#ezekiel reyes x oc

[garbinge]

Contaminated (13/?)

Angel Reyes x OC Lara Barrera Losa OC Lara Losa x OC Frankie Loza

From these August Prompts:  “Damage Control"

A/N: Update for my girlies <3 and Angel lol.

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of death, losing a loved one, Alzheimers, cancer, light angst, cursing. . 

Word Count: 1.8k 

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

“So this has been going on for five years?” Frankie sat at the kitchen island trying to wrap her brain around everything. 

“No, once five years ago. And now, only for a few months.” Lara explained. 

“Months?!” Frankie’s eyes went bug eyed. 

“Weeks! A few weeks!” Lara corrected herself to ease Frankie more into it. She was in full damage control mode and trying to back track her mistake of not telling her best friend about her and Angel, although classifying it as a mistake wasn’t exactly true. She had her reasons for not saying anything but she was regretting her finding out this way. Lara’s eyes moved over to the person to her right expecting him to chime in but Angel was too busy stuffing his face. 

Lara closed her eyes and took a big sigh before looking back at Frankie. 

“I was going to tell you, I promise I was going to tell you.” Her hand extended across the island to grab Frankie’s. “I just, things are really complicated right now. I didn’t wanna risk Bishop finding out and honestly we weren’t really sure this was anything until yesterday anyways.” 

At that Angel looked up from his plate, “Um, no I was actually sure, just following your lead.” 

Lara looked at him with a frown and then back at Frankie, “Alright well I wasn’t sure this was anything so I wanted to wait to tell you.”

Frankie just sat there, frown on her face, more confused than angry as she took in all the information.

“Are you happy?” She looked at Lara and asked, her face was serious. 

Lara looked at Frankie for a split second before looking over to Angel who was also waiting for her response. Her silence was bringing anxiety to everyone in the room except herself. Turning back to Frankie she nodded. 

“The happiest I’ve been since Aiden.” She knew Frankie would get that, Lara loved her little brother like anyone would have loved and cared for their little sibling, but Aiden brought Lara pure joy into her life and when he died that light in Lara went with him. 

“Okay then.” Frankie said with a nod and she stood up getting ready to leave. 

“I’m going up north with Hank today to see my grandma.” She was grabbing her bag and situating it back over her pajamas. 

“It’s like 5 in the morning.” Angel said confused since the girl had just gotten home an hour ago and was pretty drunk. 

Lara knew though. This time of year was difficult for everyone. For Lara and Bishop it brought up the painful memories of losing Aiden. For Frankie and Hank it was his mother, her grandmother, while she was still alive, she was going downhill but they still went up every year around this time to celebrate the anniversary of her beating cancer. It was fucked up that the year she beat cancer the early onset of Alzheimer's began. It gave them an excuse to visit her and ring the bell every year, though and it did bring some happiness to each of them to see her celebrate it. 

“I completely spaced.” Lara said realizing it was one of the reasons she had gotten drunk. “Do you need a ride?” Yes, Lara was sucking up, but that’s what you did when you were in full damage control mode with your best friend. You kissed her ass. 

“No Hank’s picking me up, I’m gonna wait outside for him.” She squeezed Lara’s arm and gave a half smile even though it looked more like a frown. “I’m happy you’re happy. You deserve that.” 

As Frankie passed Angel she leaned over to give him a quick goodbye. “If you hurt her I’ll fuckin’ gut you.” It was said at such a whisper, Angel almost missed it but he didn’t. His eyes went wide and his brows met in the middle of his forehead as the shock and confusion of what Frankie said to him settled in. As Frankie pulled away the smile on her face was like nothing of the sorts had just been spoken from her mouth. 

Lara walked Frankie to the door, there was so much more she wanted to say but right now wasn’t the right time. But she couldn’t just say nothing. 

“I want you to know it’s not because I didn’t trust you–”

“I know, Lara. It’s because you wanted to keep it yours. I get it.” The smile on Frankie’s face was a lot more genuine now, “but I’m still mad at you. And whatever this is, I expect it when I’m back.” She laughed, referring to Lara’s full kiss ass mode. 

The two hugged before Frankie walked out the door leaving Lara and Angel in the apartment by themselves. 

“That could’ve gone worse!” Angel said, standing up from the stool. 

“That could’ve gone better.” Lara said with an eye roll. 

“Well, I’m sure a couple hours of sleep will make you feel better.” Angel was practically begging to go back to bed. 

“You can go back to bed but I have tons of shit I need to get done.” Lara started picking through the cabinet under the sink for cleaning supplies. 

“What?” Angel frowned and looked at what Lara was doing. 

“I’m in full damage control mode, I’m gonna clean her room, like really clean her room and do her laundry.” Lara said in an obvious way like Angel should have known better. “Why don’t you go home, crash, and call me when you’re up, I’ll come over and we can stay at your place tonight. Give Frankie some space.” 

Angel was genuinely baffled and confused but knew better than to argue with the girl. “Sure, you don’t need help cleaning?” 

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll be good.” Lara smiled as Angel bent down and placed a kiss on her head.

Cleaning was actually pretty therapeutic for Lara, it gave her time to clear her head while also going through some thoughts and feelings she needed to sort out, doing this for Frankie felt like the right thing. She honestly didn’t hide it because she thought Frankie would tell Bishop it was exactly what Frankie said, she wanted it to be just her and Angel’s thing. No outside sway or opinions. It was dark by the time Angel called, Lara knew he had probably been up for a while and got called into club stuff, she didn’t mind, it gave her more time around the house. 

Now at Angel’s, the two of them were knocked out on the couch, both catching up on the hours they missed from the night prior. Hours must’ve passed by just with the TV playing overnight in the background while the two laid snoring on the couch. An alarm went off on someones phone, causing both of them to stir awake, both a little frightened while they searched for the source of the noise. 

“It’s not mine.” Angel said his voice groggy and raspy. 

“It’s mine, I have a shift. It’s already 7AM.” Lara sighed and plopped back down against Angel who had already tried to go back to sleep. 

“Call out.” Angel mumbled. 

“I wish, I need the money. I’m gonna shower.” Lara wasn’t exactly speaking at anything higher than a mumble either. “Please can you make me coffee?” 

The groan from Angel’s throat was one of annoyance but not one of defiance so Lara knew she’d have a hot cup of coffee when she got out of the shower which is what motivated her to get up in the first place. “Thank you.” 

______

“I don’t know what you did to get water pressure like that but I’m demanding you come to our apartment and do it to our shower.” Lara said as she walked through Angel’s house in one of his flannels and her hair wet ready for a coffee. 

To Lara’s surprise, Angel wasn’t alone, she walked right into the living room where EZ was with the biggest grin on his face. 

“Hi Lara.” He smiled from ear to ear. 

“Prospect.” She rolled her eyes, no need to hide now. If Frankie didn’t tell him, she eventually would have and there was no going back from or denying her swimming in Angel’s clothes. 

Angel had a cup of coffee in his hand and handed one to Lara. “EZ brought coffee, you can have mine.”

“If I knew you were gonna have company I would have brought three, or not come at all.” The grin on EZ’s face was getting bigger as he spoke, he wanted to boast and tell Angel every version of ‘I told you so’ that he could. 

Lara took two sips from the cup and handed it back to Angel. “Here I just needed a jolt, I gotta get ready and head out anyways, I’ll grab something on the way.” And before she could even let either of them respond she was running back into Angel’s room and tossing her all black hostess outfit on and tying her hair back. 

As the two boys stood alone in the living room, EZ wiggled his eyebrows at Angel which earned him a light shove and ‘shut the fuck up’ before Lara reappeared in the room. 

“Sorry to leave like this, thanks for the coffee sips.” She stood up on her tip toes to grab Angel’s head and leave a kiss on his lips before grabbing her purse off the hooks and going to the door to leave. “Bye EZ!” 

Now both the men were truly alone in Angel’s house, there was a couple seconds of silence before EZ spoke up. 

“So should I say I told you so, I was right, or something else? I’ll let you come up with it even, it can be a joint effort.” EZ was still grinning from ear to ear. 

“Man, shut up.” Angel turned to grab his kutte from the hooks. “I thought you needed me for club shit.” 

“I do, but this is just my reward for having to play hide n seek with the fuckin’ club. No one answers their phone this early.” 

“Yea bro, it’s 7 fuckin AM.” Angel’s eyebrows raised as he placed his kutte on and grabbed the coffee back to chug half of it down. “Come on let’s go.” 

“Yo,” EZ said as they started to head out themselves. “Don’t fuck this shit up.” It was serious, he wasn’t grinning anymore, it was coming from a genuine place. 

“Don’t go saying shit at the club, aight? Bish doesn’t know and I’m gonna let Lara tell me how she wants to deal with that.” Angel yelled back at his little brother and paused before speaking up again. 

“And I’m not gonna fuck it up.”

[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.”

[saturnville]

bibliophiles

pairing: ez reyes x black!oc

warning: none

He recommended Don Quixote. Never had she expected a broody and seemingly dark biker to be overly invested in literature—sixteenth century literature at that. 

He remembered the confusion on her face when she flipped through the first few pages and saw it was the original version written in Spanish. Her eyes had pleaded with him to give her another suggestion, but he reiterated her desire to learn his native tongue and said it’s be a good challenge. 

She finished the book in two weeks—an unusual length of time for her to finish a book—and gave a full report to him when they saw one another again in his father’s shop. 

“You liked it?” he asked her, a half smile pulling at his lips. 

She nodded and pushed her glasses further upon her nose. “Yes, it was good. Challenging, but good. I had a dictionary pulled up next to me every time I read it.”

He chuckled. “Dedication. I like it.”  She responded with a sly smile. “Since you gave me such a challenge, I can only offer the same in return, Ezekiel.”

His stomach tingled, he loved the way she said his name. EZ ignored the looks from his father and older brother as he finally broke and took a seat by the old, rickety bookshelf where his childhood imagination was first introduced. He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward on his elbows. 

“What do you have, Indra?” 

The woman dug into a familiar navy blue shoulder bag and pulled out a book as large as his head. Intrigued, he leaned forward more. “What’s this?” 

“Beowulf. The original version from between the eighth and eleventh century first book recorded in the English language. Old English.”

“Ah,” EZ hissed, picking up the book. Indra watched as he clutched the book in his hands, flicking through some of the pages. He rose his eyebrows in amusement. “A challenge indeed. You gonna give me a time limit, too?” 

“Three weeks max.” Indra stood from her seat, prepared to exit. 

“Not so fast...” he dug into the side of his cut, pulling out another book. “Macbeth.” She examined the book closely. The cover was in tact, the spine was sturdy, and the pages were as crisp as new dollar bills. He bought it, she concluded. She bought it just for her. “Little birdie told me it was your favorite.” He hoped she hadn’t caught him glancing at his father. 

Indra thanked him wholeheartedly. The gesture was simple yet so sweet, it made her  insides flutter. Their exchange had gone on for going on two months and she couldn’t get enough of it. Often times, she found herself finishing her novels early and coming into the store just to have a reason to look into his hazel eyes or slide her fingers against his. 

“No problem.”

“See you in a few weeks,” Indra bid her farewell, but was soon interrupted by EZ’s hand around her arm. “Yes?”

“Can I,” he cleared his throat. “Can I take you out sometime? Don’t want to have to keep waiting for a literature exchange to see you...” 

Indra tucked the book further underneath her arm and readjusted her glasses. Here she was, about to dive into Macbeth for the umpteenth time, only to be caught off guard by him asking her on a...date? 

“Like a date?” 

His face flushed as he nodded slowly. Her uncertainty made his insides twist.

“Yeah, if you’re okay with it.“

“Of course I am.” She cursed herself for speaking so quickly. EZ chuckled softly. “I mean, that sounds nice.” 

His beautiful eyes met hers and she fought the urge to grin like a fool. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, yeah?” 

She didn’t trust her ability to utter words so she nodded slowly with a wide smile on her lips. 

EZ turned on his heels and tossed a smile over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow, querida.”

“Bye, Ezekiel…”

[superhoeva-archived]

❜ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐒 ❛

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Angel Reyes x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC), Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC), Miguel Galindo x Gabriella Adéline Carter (Black!Female!OC)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 27.1k

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐔𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: August 13, 2022

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 15/? (eleven chapters, four drabbles)

𝐊𝐄𝐘

† - nsfw

∞ - author favorite

✎ - director’s cut

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

“𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨/𝐎𝐜” (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟏)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐬𝐦, 𝟐.𝟖𝐤 - During a run-of-the-mill drop, the Mayans and Gabriella are gifted with an unpleasant surprise.

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐨, 𝟐.𝟗𝐤 - The Mayans and Gabriella have a tense meeting with Miguel Galindo. Ezekiel finds himself with a newfound crush. ∞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝟐.𝟖𝐤 - Alvarez finally makes it to Santo Padre, and Ezekiel and Gabriella connect a little more.

𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝟐.𝟗𝐤 - Gabriella deals with how much someone from her past has changed, and Miguel holds a rather bloody event in his pew.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝟑.𝟖𝐤 - Ezekiel’s cousin KJ pays him a unexpected visit. Angel and Gabriella bring the prospect in on their secret affairs.

“𝐄𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐃𝐳𝐞𝐜” (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟐)

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭, 𝟑.𝟐𝐤 - The MC goes on the search for some answers on a new possible threat.

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝟐.𝟕𝐤 - The Rebels go through with their plan, leaving Miguel to turn to the Mayans for some much needed help. 

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝟐.𝟒𝐤 - In the search for his son’s whereabouts, Miguel’s rage boils over.

"𝐁𝐮𝐡𝐨/𝐌𝐮𝐰𝐚𝐧" (𝟏𝐱𝟎𝟑)

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝟑.𝟎𝐤 - Gabriella’s lying rubs a certain someone the wrong way. KJ makes a surprise visit. The Mayans set up a meeting at the San Buho Casino.

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝟎.𝟗𝐤 - KJ makes his rounds.

𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝟏.𝟓𝐤 - The Mayans head to the San Buho Casino.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝟎.𝟐𝐊) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐲𝐬𝐦

☄. *. ⋆ A little glimpse into Ezekiel’s head when he meets Gabriella.

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝟎.𝟐𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

☄. *. ⋆ Marcus and Gabriella mourn together.

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝟎.𝟔𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

☄. *. ⋆ Gabriella meets Miguel.

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬 (𝟎.𝟖𝐤) || 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

☄. *. ⋆ Gabriella confronts Miguel.

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀/𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐒 ✧.*

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞™ || 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞™ ||  𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞™ || 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞™ || 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋'𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐞™ || 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈™ || 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚™ || 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞™

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 || 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 || 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒/𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐓𝐀𝐆 

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[obsessedasusual]

Lonely No More - Seven

Bishop Losa x OC series

Summary: There was never a dull moment, being the only Reyes sister. But between overbearing brothers, being the family peacekeeper, and countless disaster dates, Amalia finds herself wishing she had someone to unwind with after a hectic day. Funnily enough, Bishop Losa wishes for the same thing.

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, alcohol

Note: - 2.4k - it’s here!! Hello to readers new and old….. dive in!

Also - I had a tag list for this series at one point, starting from scratch. Let me know if you’d like to be added!

Tags: @danzer8705 @delightfulheroshoeflap

“Guess who I saw at the store today.” She threw at her older brother before she took a sip of her orange juice.

“Who?” Angel questioned from the kitchen as he dug around for something that could pass as lunch.

Amaila rolled her eyes, “I said ‘guess’, dumbass.”

Angel pulled his head out from the fridge to glare at his sister sitting on his couch, “Don’t give me that shit. Just tell me.”

She raised an eyebrow expectantly at her brother. While both stubborn, she could definitely out-wait him.

It was his turn to roll his eyes at the gesture knowing she wasn’t about to give it up, “Fine,” he sighed, shaking his head in thought, “Was it… I don’t fucking know - Mrs Sanchez from High School?”

“Mrs Sanchez? No?” Amalia stared dumbly at her brother, “Why the fuck was she the first person to come to your mind?’

Angel offered a shrug in response before turning back to the fridge.

“I saw Kevin.” she finally relented.

“Who?’ he mumbled, half distracted by his sandwich making.

“Kevin,” she repeated, “Kevin, our cousin Kevin?”

She watched her brother’s face transform from confused to understanding as he clicked to who she was talking about, “Didn’t know he was in town. Thought he was in the city?”

Amalia mumbled a quick, “Thanks,” as he placed a plate holding a cold meat sandwich in front of her, “I thought so too, guess he still is? Don’t know, didn’t actually talk to him.”

“You didn't talk to him? So that whole story was for what?” Angel spoke with his mouth full earning a glare from his sister.

“Shut up. I was just passing comment.”

“Well, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without this life changing information.”

Amalia looked at him as she chewed, “You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”

She was met with a middle finger and decided to finish her sandwich instead of dignifying her brother’s gesture with a response.

“How’s EZ? With the club I mean.” Ever the protective sister, Amalia had been worried about how her younger brother would fit in with the Mayans. Everytime she brought it up with the brother in question she was met with a small smile and a, “Everything’s good, A.”

Angel thought about his answer for a moment, “He’s doing okay I think. But I just - some of the shit we see man, sometimes I wonder if sponsoring him was the right thing to do you know?”

She nodded in understanding, “When he got out, he had nothing to go to, Angel. You’ve given him… something. And at the end of the day, Ezekiel’s an adult now. He’s gonna make his own choices no matter what we say.”

“Yeah, I know but… he was so young when he went inside. He was s’pose to be a fucking doctor, not following me into an MC.”

Pursing her lips at the statement she silently agreed with him. Ezekiel was always the one out of the trio that they were sure was going to do well. Angel had always done his own thing, Amalia had a college degree in communications but that wasn’t exactly a field that screamed ‘successful’. EZ was going down the medical route. Now that was impressive.

“Pop’s pissed at me for bringing him in too.” Angel continued.

Amalia sighed at that. The Reyes Patriarch made no effort to disguise his real emotions about anything. And it seemed clear as day that he wasn’t pleased with his youngest following his oldest’s footsteps, becoming more protective over him then ever.

“Pop is Pop,” she offered, “No matter what, EZ is always gonna be the apple of his eye. And that isn’t fair, but… at least we have each other at Christmas.”

That succeeded in getting a chuckle out of her brother. Amalia knew their father’s favouritism weighed on Angel.

“Yeah… lucky us.” he huffed good humouredly.

Feeling her phone buzz she moved her attention to the message on her screen, feeling her cheeks heat up as soon as she saw who it was from.

Is it safe to assume you have no plans tomorrow and can join a lonely man for dinner?

She and Bishop had exchanged numbers two nights ago when she had returned home from work and found a note in her mailbox from said President.

Fixed your gate, the note had read, here if you ever need a handyman.

The note had been signed ‘Bishop’ along with a phone number. After texting him her gratitude, the two had been periodically texting.

“What’re you smiling at?” her brother questioned, eyeing her suspiciously.

Amalia snapped her gaze from her phone to Angel, caught like a deer in headlights, “Nothing.”

“You texting a guy?”

She rolled her eyes, “Leave it, Angel.”

“That’s not a ‘no’.” again, speaking with his mouth full.

“It’s a ‘mind your own business’.”

He rolled his eyes and demolished the rest of his sandwich, Amalia following suit.

“As long as he treats you good.” Angel muttered as he walked back to the kitchen.

Amalia bit her lip at the comment before typing out a reply to Bishop.

Name the time and place :)

Her phone vibrated within seconds of hitting send.

My place, 6:30. See you then sweetheart.

Amalia looked from the text, to her brother who was fluffing around in the kitchen. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by getting dinner with Bishop. They’d done it before, not that she’d told Angel. And besides, it was only dinner. Just two friends who happen to live down the street from each other.

How would Angel react to it? Probably not well. But still, she couldn't stop herself from the excitement that bubbled at the thought of the dinner.

Can’t wait.

```

It shouldn’t have surprised Amalia, how good the food was as she’d already experienced it with the pie weeks prior. Although dinner was ‘only’ spaghetti and meatballs, it was damn near the best she’d ever had. The big, scary Mayans President was an absolute whiz in the kitchen.

Dinner had passed with the pair indulging in both wine and beer, Bishop had begun to keep a bottle of red handy for occasions such as this, and sharing so much laughter their sides hurt. It was peaceful, and oh so comfortable.

Neither brought up the stressful day to day topics like work and the club. Instead they spoke of their favourite holidays as kids, where they’d go if they could travel anywhere in the world, what animal best represented them.

That last one was all Amalia, but Bishop had indulged her.

“You’d be an ant,” he’d decided, “with how social you are.”

“An ant?! That’s not even an animal. I’m more like a… penguin.”

In the end they agreed to disagree.

“Bishop, you cooked. Please let me do the cleaning.” she all but begged as he began to gather up the dirty dishes. The biker waved her off with a smile as he continued.

“You’re my guest, querida. Sit there and drink your wine.”

Amalia let her eyes follow the rough man as he cleared the table, moving to fill the sink with hot water. It was weird seeing Bishop like this. It almost felt wrong. She was in his house, his private four walls away from the club. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, he looked almost relaxed. In that moment, it wasn’t ‘Bishop Losa, MC President’. It was just Bishop. Bishop, the man that kept his lawns immaculate. Bishop, the man that could cook an incredible pot pie. Bishop, the man that owned exactly one nicknack.

Bishop. The man had been on Amalia’s mind constantly lately.

“Have I got something on my face or what?”

His deeper voice broke her train of thought as he caught her staring red handed. His eyes weren’t on her though, they remained on the dirty dishes he had begun to wash.

She smiled at his side profile, “Just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous way to spend your time, querida.”

“What… thinking?” Amalia giggled.

Bishop pulled a tight-lipped smile and nodded once, “Gets you in all sorts of trouble.”

The Reyes sister cocked her head and made her way from the table to stand beside the older man, still diligently washing the dishes. She took a moment to properly take in the comment, knowing the President usually had a deeper meaning behind his words. Grabbing a dish towel in silence, Amalia made a start on drying the dishes.

“Some would say,” she began, “You attract even more trouble by not thinking.”

Bishop glanced at her briefly, “You just love to argue with me don’t you, sweetheart?”

Amalia grinned slyly up at him, “Gotta keep you young somehow, Prez.”

He shook his head, chuckling lowly not dignifying her remark with a verbal response, instead deciding to use the scrubbing brush to splash bubbles at her, hitting her square on the nose.

“Bishop!” she burst into laughter, doing her best not to get any of the hopefully not-too-dirty dishwater and bubble combo that was now dripping down her face, in her mouth.

“Told you not to think, querida.” he winked at her and went back to washing the cup in his hands.

Quickly wiping her face with the dish towel, she twisted it in her hands, lined it perfectly with her target and let it fly, whipping Bishop’s bicep perfectly with a satisfying ‘snap’.

Her target startled, hand quickly coming up to caress where he had been hit, turning to face Amalia with a shocked smile.

“You…”

“You were thinking too hard.” she mocked, shrugging and continuing to dry the plates.

She froze when another belt of soapy water hit her, soaking her more than last time. Mouth hanging open in shock and laughter, Amalia moved quickly to once again whip her dish towel at the taller man. Bishop responded accordingly with more dish water, this time wetting the dish towel as Amalia held it up in defence.

Water on a dish towel gives it much more power when used as a whip… much more. It seemed that they both realised this at the same time, Amalia growing excited and Bishop growing regretful.

“Don’t…” he warned, but it was hard to take him seriously when a smile was plastered across his face.

Amalia giggled as she twisted the towel once again, readying it for her shot. It seemed that Bishop could anticipate her next move however as he made to grab it just as she took her shot. The brunette tugged at her end.

“That’s not fair! This is my weapon, not my fault you chose dish water.” She tugged again, only to be met with the resistance of a strong man.

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

“Bishop!” She was in stitches at the situation, laughing too much to be able to actually grip the towel enough to stand a chance, “Give it back!”

He tugged his end again, “Apologise.”

She tugged back, “No!”

“Apologise.” he chuckled, tugging at the dish towel a bit harder, in turn pulling Amalia toward him with it.

She collided with his chest in a fit of laughter, sides beginning to hurt as she attempted to catch her breath. Pushing herself back from her position, she gained her composure and looked up at Bishop. Only now realising how close they actually were.

Silence fell over the duo. Amalia breathing heavily still trying to catch her breath, and Bishop breathing shallowly due to the close proximity he found himself in with the woman that held his infatuation.

Amalia cleared her throat when their eyes locked, “Um-”

His lips were on hers before she could mutter a complete word.

It took a moment for Amalia to process what was happening, but it was a short moment and she soon found herself sliding her hands up to gently grasp the sides of Bishop’s neck, quickly returning the kiss. She could have sworn she felt him sigh into her at that moment, almost in relief.

He kept the kiss clean. No tongue. No teeth. Just lips. And want.

Amalia felt like her mind was racing but couldn’t pinpoint what she was actually thinking. She knew what she was feeling though.

Butterflies making their presence known in her stomach, a satisfying burn on her waist where Bishop held her, an almost-annoying-but-actually-quite-nice tickle on her lip from his mustache, and the feeling of wow, this is actually happening.

They were lost in their moment, her hands on his neck, his hands on her waist, and their lips interlocked. No one could say how long they would’ve stayed like that if that goddamn phone hadn’t decided to ring.

Bishop quickly pulled back from her at the ringtone. Not moving to answer his phone, instead just removing himself from her grasp and staring at her flushed face. Neither spoke a word as the ringtone finally died down, only to start up again a second later.

The second ring seemed to break the President out of his daze as he broke his eye contact and grabbed the still ringing cell phone from the bench, cursing quietly when he saw who was calling.

“What?” he answered with a gruff tone.

Amalia spent the next few seconds collecting herself, not paying attention to the topic of the phone call. Although she could guess it was club related based on the amount of swearing she could hear on both ends. She found her fingers tracing her lips subconsciously when Bishop ended the call.

“Fuckin’...” he trailed off, turning back to her, “Uh… club shit,”

He was struggling to meet her eyes, instead deciding to focus on the now abandoned dish towel sitting on the bench, “I gotta go. You uh… you can…”

“I’ll clean up then head out.” She offered, seeing how he was struggling with words and making the whole situation more awkward.

Still not meeting her eyes, he stared intensely at the towel, opened his mouth as if he had something else to add, before settling with a nod and turning to leave the kitchen.

Amalia could hear him pulling on his boots in the next room and imagined him shrugging on his kutte too. The opening and slamming of the front door pulled her back to reality as she realised he had left. The roaring of his Harley as it started up and rode off confirming it.

The breath she let out was so shaky it was audible, she made to grab the bench behind her to steady herself.

“Holy fuck.” she whispered. What the hell just happened?

“Holy fuck.” she exclaimed as she made her way to the front door, leaving the dishes in the dirty, cooling water.

Fuck cleaning up. She just wanted to go home.

[brooklynislandgirl]

10 Fandoms / 10 Characters / 10 Tags

Tagged By: my loves @kylo-wrecked and @tangleweave Tagging: Anyone who feels like they need one more Sunday this weekend.

~*~*~*~

I. Marvel: Beta-Ray Bill, Eddie Brock/Venom, Doctor Strange, Phil Coulson, Vision, Groot, Spider-Man {Peter Parker}, Gambit, Doctor Morbius, Bucky Barnes. M'Baku {Hate the moniker of 'Man-Ape'}. Magneto. Loki. Night Crawler. Frank "Punisher" Castle. Colossus. Danny "Iron Fist" Rand. Foggy Nelson. Ghost Rider {Both Johnny Blaze and Robbie Reyes, "Caretaker" Carter Slade}. I know that's more than 10. Whatever, I do what I want. >.> II. DC: Lex Luthor, Nanaue {King Shark}, Martian Man Hunter, John Constantine, The Joker, Jonathan Crane, Morpheus {Dream of the Endless}, Death of the Endless, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Swamp Thing, Green Lantern. Cisco Ramon. Hunter Zoloman.

I absolutely blame @nightmarefuele for at least two of these.

III. Star Wars: Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader. Admiral Piett. Kylo Ren. Wedge Antilles. Kit Fisto. Han Solo. Chewbacca. Jocasta Nu. Darth Rivan {not to be confused with Darth Revan}. Jos Vondar. Jango and Boba Fett, and of course, all my 10,000,000,000 Clone children. No I will not be taking questions.

IV. Star Trek: Worf, Martok, Gowron, Chancellor Gorkon, Kurn, Dr McCoy, Uhura, Sulu, Chekhov, Chris Pike, Ortegas, Nurse Chapel, Geordie La Forge, Riker, Data, Lore, Chief O'Brien, Q, Benjamin Cisco, Garak, Gul Dukat, Quark. V. Firefly: Mal Reynolds, Jayne Cobb, Hobun Washburne, Zoe Washburne, Shepherd Book, Kaylee Frye, YoSafBridge, Adalai Niska, Badger, Jubal Early Take my life, take my land, take me where I cannot stand. I don't care 'cause I'm still free, you can't take the sky from me. {{My coat has always been a little...brownish.}

VI. The Walking Dead: Shane Walsh, Daryl and Merle Dixon, Michonne Hawthorne, Abraham Ford, Glenn Rhee, The Governor, Bob Stookey, Ezekiel, Dwight, Aaron, Morgan Jones. VII. Justified: Raylan, Boyd, Ava, Art, Rachel, Tim, Dewey Crowe, Johnny Crowder, Loretta McCready, Robert Quarles, Ellstin Limehouse, Mags Bennett, Devil, Jean Baptiste, Boon, Willa, Carolyn, Sweety... oh so many. VIII. Yellowstone: John, Jamie, Beth, Kayce Dutton, Rip Wheeler, Jimmy Hurdstrom, Thomas Rainwater, Mo Brings Plenty, Lloyd, Colby, Teeter, Jake, Ethan, Angela Blue Thunder, Malcolm Beck. IX. Law & Order- Alphabet Soup: Captain Cragen, Lenny Briscoe, Mike Logan, Anita Van Buren, Jack McCoy. Rey Curtis, Ed Green, Arthur Branch, Cyrus Lupo, Kevin Bernard, Frank Cosgrove, Jalen Shaw. Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson, Odafin Tutuola, John Munch, Chester Lake, Melinda Warner, Amanda Rollins, Rafael Barba, Dominick Carisi, Peter Stone, Bobby Goran. I have seen literally every episode of the American Law & Order franchise Original, SVU, CI, OC, etc...with the first three watched multiple times. While I often wouldn't call it my most favourite show...it's probably my most favourite shows.

X. The Lord of the Rings: Boromir and Faramir, Éomer and Éowyn, Theoden King, Theodred, Gimli, Pippin, Sam, Meriadoc, Fangorn {Treebeard}, Beorn, Celebrimbor, Bard the Bowman, Dwalin, Celeborn, Denethor, Gil-Galad king, Fingolfin, The Watcher in the Water, Maedhros, Finwe, Manwe...and I could go on for years. My first true fandom as we know it {probably Arthurian Legend was my first and truest fictional love}, and one I have been faithful to for over 25 years. Honestly never please talk to me about it, because I have rabid opinions about literally everything. And lastly, I only included tv/movies here because books and rpgs would require an entire three or four Long Ass Posts all of their own. Much Love.

[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.’

[cloveroctobers]

Here you’ll find part ii. To my spring prompts. This will consist of all works written during the spring season of 2023 🦚🍃🪷

FEELS = Dante Torres > Series: Chicago PD + NBC

CHUCKY CHEESE = Barry > Series: OBX + NETFLIX

WORTH IT = Kiara Carrera > Series: OBX + NETFLIX

KEEP UP = Rio (platonic?!) x oc x Mick > Series: Good Girls + NBC

HOLD ME = Tommy Miller > Live Action Series : The Last of Us + HBO

ROSE COLORED LENS = Sarah Cameron > Series: OBX + NETFLIX

WATCH ME WORK = Carmy Berzatto > Series: THE BEAR + FX/HULU

BLACK MASCARA = Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes > Series: MAYANS MC + FX/HULU

BLOODWAR = Joel Miller > Series: The Last of Us (Live Action!) + HBO

SOUTHERN DELICACY = Rio x oc x Arman Morales > Series: Good Girls & The Cleaning Lady + NBC/FOX

DATING LAYLA = REQUESTED_ Layla Keating > Series: All American + The CW

TERMS & CONDITIONS = Angel Reyes x oc x Cane Tejada + FX/STARZ

PART iii.

[brattyfics]

summary:

❥ boy meets girl, except the girl is a mermaid with the ability to steal breath from the boy if it suits her. believe it or not, this is a submission to my fall fluff challenge. "squeezing hand for comfort and encouragement" + 'blackberries'.

pairing: ezekiel reyes x black!ofc [mermaid]

tags: i call this genre horror fluff, sexual content, dry humping of a mermaid so monster-humping? manipulation, lots of mentions of nudity, dark stuff surrounding reproduction? please let me know if i'm forgetting something.

word count: 6.6k

credit: mermaid prompts ⎈ smutty one-liners ⎈ gif 1 ⎈ gif 2 ⎈ special thanks to the lovely, brilliant @isisafrofairy & @thesandbeneathmytoes who helped turn this shitty fever dream into something somewhat legible. i appreciate it more than you know!

A little while ago, the siren would have scared him, but now all Ezekiel Reyes could feel was relief. The unmistakable, rhythmic sound of water splashing at the foot of his boat meant she was alive and well. She, being the other-worldly seductress with a long, shimmering tail for legs. At least until she dried out, shed the scaly skin, and sprouted a shapely pair of human legs.

"Mister Reyes." Adah sang his name, her mesmerizing voice muddled but distinct. He followed the sound with urgency, catching a glimpse of the tips of her tail as she disappeared back under the water. Her giggles rang out wild and child-like past the sound barrier, so familiar but so far away.

In the past month, Ezekiel learned a lot about the siren, the main thing being that she liked to play games. They ranged from harmless, like the one she played now, a little underwater hide and seek, to extremely dangerous, like the time she insisted he join in on the fun, nearly drowning him when she yanked him down into the water for a deep-sea game of Marco Polo. She didn't call it that, of course, but the concept was the same.

It amazed him really, the things that were universal, whether on land or in the ocean. That he had more things in common with a sea creature than he ever would have guessed.

Ezekiel's neck worked double-time trying to spot her underneath the dark water. Just when he thought he'd seen a flash of her long tresses that crinkled like seaweed or ashen brown skin, he blinked, and there was nothing.

Adah was fast, unbelievably so. She was also an apex predator with the ability to steal breath from him if it suited her. Deep inside, he knew better than to let his guard down, but he was only a man. When she called out his name again, Ezekiel sunk to his knees and peered out into the water.

The ache in his chest didn't subside until her head peaked past foamy surface bubbles.

Her eyes were as hypnotizing as they were haunting, a beautiful blue-green shade he had never seen on a human being. The first night she showed herself to him, it took over an hour for them to transition into a deep brown shade he was much more familiar with, the same as his brothers' or the woman that bagged his groceries.

The more she changed, the quicker the process became. If Ezekiel's estimations were correct, it wouldn't take longer than a few minutes tonight.

Her webbed hands gripped the edge of the boat, not for stability, because she could float upright as long as he could stand, but in invitation. Ezekiel wasted no time placing his hands over her water-logged skin, sighing as he absorbed the cool, thin layer of slime like it was the natural thing to do. It probably should have scared him, or at the very least, grossed him out, but when he was with her, he felt nothing but fascination. It was reckless, but he only ever wanted to see and learn more.

Adah blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the nitrogen above the surface; the action almost amphibian-like in a peculiar but captivating way.

"E.Z." She chimed his nickname like a bell, angling her neck this and that way as she studied the planes of his face. No matter how hard she tried to remember every little detail, nothing did him justice. Especially when he smiled wide like that, tawny skin and hazel eyes sparkling with the help of the moonlight reflecting on the water's surface.

"Mi tesoro. My treasure." He breathed. Ferocious underwater warrior she was, but to him, just a woman. One with shark-like teeth and tough, alligator-like skin for a tail, but still.

"Miss me?" She asked in a distorted tone. Once, she explained to him that her organs started shifting mere moments after breathing air instead of water. The seawater itself had nothing to do with the transformation.

"Like the moon misses the stars." Ezekiel indulged, knowing that Adah loved when he used land expressions on her. He had to explain himself most times, but she liked hearing their origin just as much. Growing up, she heard stories about the moon. Adah knew that it determined their migration patterns and how much light there was down under, but there was nothing like hearing it firsthand from someone who walked the land.

"Aww." She cooed in a deep tone. Ezekiel laughed at the nearly identical imitation of him. It was the sound he made whenever she was tender or sentimental.

Ezekiel finger-combed the heavy, tangled curls away from her face so that he could see her clearly, full lips forming an 'O' at the gradual changes happening before his eyes. Tiny hairs sprouted from her previously bare brow bone, pointy teeth withdrawing from her mouth up into her skull, while ashen skin peeled and shed away to reveal a more golden undertone.

In a word, it was remarkable. As a man of science, he never believed much in what couldn't be seen or proven. If mermaids truly existed (and they did, he now knew), there should be evidence more substantial than a few old sailor's stories. The whirlwind romance with his very own siren seemed to explain that phenomenon.

From the moment Ezekiel met her, he was in her orbit. It wasn't supreme beauty or unbridled lust, at least not at first; she looked like nothing like the beautified, commercialized mermaids they showed on television in this state. Perhaps it was that she came to him vulnerable and weak that first night. Maybe it was all a part of her allure, a tool for survival the same as any other species, but he had only ever wanted to protect her. Just the thought of sharing her existence made him light-headed and queasy.

"Need. To. Change." Adah reminded him, panting through the mind-numbing pain.

What does it feel like? He asked once. Nothing and everything was the only explanation that made sense. How could one possibly explain how it felt to be squeezed and stretched in every direction, to feel turned inside out?

Ezekiel pulled her up and onto the deck while she gasped for water, dragging her several feet to rest in front of the saloon table, just across from the boating cockpit. Instinctively, her appendages flailed, searching for home, safety the same as a goldfish would. He fished the bright, industrial flashlight he kept close out of his backpack and stuffed it in between her lips. Adah bit down in preparation. Next, he scrambled to lay heavily across her chest, just enough to keep her anchored but still avoid the wild thrashing of her sharp tail.

This part of the process wasn't so pretty.

Adah fought the instinct to kill for the saltwater she so desperately thirsted for, screeching and clawing at the boat's floor to keep from shredding him to pieces while Ezekiel held on for his life.

That very first time, he'd left with a concussion and a severely bruised side. Everyone in his life wondered, where did a wealthy doctor who spent his free time alone on a catamaran get hurt like that? He spun some story about an unexpected gust of wind and jerking the wheel recklessly in reaction, but he was a veteran sailor. One that had spent too much time and money on boating lessons to make an amateur move like that.

Ezekiel learned to hide his injuries better, but it didn't help that his brothers suddenly weren't invited to tag along. Angel complained about being downgraded to the regular, degular ambiance of his living room on weekends. Miguel didn't mind as much, preferring the company of whatever new girl he was seeing for the week to get him through his divorce.

If the buck of her strong torso sent him flying backward and he hit his head, or her tail slit his throat, no one would be able to help him. This far out? It might be a week before anyone found him. He'd be half-decomposed by then, and his brothers might struggle to identify him. His father would have to bury him without the closure of an open casket funeral.

Still, time and time again, he showed up to meet his Sirena.

There were five vast oceans and seven expansive continents. What were the chances of them ever being in the same place at the same time? Of her being injured, dazed, and desperate enough to expose herself? There had to be a reason for it all. He refused to believe otherwise.

When Adah stilled, the only sound to be heard was water lapping at the sides of the boat in waves. Not a finger twitched, nor an eyeball shifted as she lay perfectly still; heart stopped temporarily. He hated it. It wasn't necessary, but Ezekiel shifted to breathe for her, full lips covering hers as he exhaled and inhaled deliberately. Breathing her in was an experience of its own. She always tasted like something he couldn't quite place. Salty, yet cool and refreshing, strangely calming. There was nothing like it.

It took a few minutes, but when her organs finished contorting and recuperating, she breathed back into him. "Mi tesoro." He groaned into her mouth, cupping her face as her eyes blinked open, warm brown and familiar.

"Ezekiel." Her way of speaking emphasized each syllable. "Hurt?" She blinked, voice heavy with exhaustion as she looked him over.

She couldn't see blood or scratches, but he'd explained internal injuries to her that first night. Through her blue-green sea eyes, skin was translucent. Therefore, all injuries were injuries that could be seen. Other animals like wolves could smell sickness and weakness. Mermaids saw it. Through human-brown eyes, though, Ezekiel was all sinewy muscle and attractive flesh. Nothing weak about that.

"I'm fine." He breathed, scooting back a foot to rest against a wall. His arms flexed as he shook the tension and terror away. Adah crawled to him and pressed her hand to his chest. His heart thumped erratically, and she felt her own chest tighten in response.

Adah curled into his side, gathering his hand in hers and squeezing. It was what they did in the water during times of conflict with other tribes, linking themselves to each other in solidarity. I'm still here. Whatever you are going through, I am too. An attack against you is an attack against me. Ezekiel felt the sentiment through her touch.

Several minutes later, his heart rate returned to normal, and she cupped his face the way he had hers. "Better?"

"Yes," Ezekiel reassured her, standing on shaky legs. He helped her to her feet and smiled reassuringly. "Much better."

Without fail, he found himself drawn to her wide-set, upturned eyes that were always unbelievably dark and striking. Next, his gaze traveled to her button nose and defined cupid's bow. He was utterly stupefied by her ethereal beauty now that she stood before him as a human.

Adah shifted, adjusting her weight between feet in search of balance. After all, it was a considerable undertaking transforming into a completely different being, but all the movement did was draw his attention to her equally alluring body. His hands itched to cup her small, pointy breasts, and pull her close so that he could feel her taut stomach against his own. And then there were her healthy legs and butt, toned by the constant swimming. Despite the stark darkness of the night sky, her dark skin glistened, and he felt himself swell beneath navy slacks.

"Kiss?" She asked expectantly, so used to literally being swept off her land legs and carried off upon arrival. Ezekiel exhaled deeply. It took everything to resist his desires to pull her close and steal her breath away, but he needed to have a clear mind, free from the euphoria of lust for the conversation he wanted to have later. He grasped her hand in his and pulled her with him towards the cozy cabin.

The cabin was small, but it served its purpose. There was enough space for a small bathroom with a shower, a bed with built-in storage, and a small coat closet. Ezekiel headed for the bathroom and came out with a towel, gently drying the excess water from her shoulders before wrapping it around her mountain of coils. She thanked him with a slight shiver. It was ironic, but wet hair while on land always made her uncomfortable.

Next, Ezekiel fished a t-shirt and pair of boxers out of a drawer; he needed her to cover up so that he could focus. Adah still didn't quite understand the need for clothes, but she took them and dressed anyway.

By the time she returned her attention to Ezekiel, he had produced a circular charcuterie board topped with colorful fruits and vegetables, meats, cheeses, and crackers; all arranged in a pretty rainbow for her viewing pleasure. Adah liked food almost as much her games, bouncing with excitement as he peeled away the shiny, clear wrapping that felt funny when she rolled it between her fingertips.

"For me?"

Ezekiel laughed. "For us." She had a hard time sharing, but he didn't mind. It was just fun to tease her.

"Yes." She agreed seriously, crawling to the center of the bed where he had placed the board. She looked at it from above while Ezekiel settled across from her. Adah stuffed her face with a handful of purple grapes, sighing at the fresh and tart taste before grabbing another handful. One of Ezekiel's warm hands rubbed circles on her bare knee while she ate. He watched her with mild amusement, enjoying her pleasure more than anything. Adah reached out and offered him the next handful.

"For you."

Ezekiel opened his mouth and accepted the fruit, kissing her hand quickly before she could pull it away. She roared with laughter. The pattern of feeding herself and then him followed through a bunch of blueberries, crunchy red cabbage, and tangy kiwi. When he arranged her food according to color, she finished each ingredient in its entirety before moving to the next.

Even in his blur of musings, Ezekiel noticed details. "The blackberries are this way." He frowned, pointing to the dark fruit as he chewed. He knew she favored them over other fruits. "Yes." Adah chirped, crunching adorably on a stalk of celery. "Saving them." Was her simple explanation. Ezekiel watched her and the board until it made sense. "For last?"

"Yes." She nodded, enjoying the yellow bell peppers Ezekiel had sliced and deseeded himself. He worked long shifts at the hospital and rarely had the time to cook for himself, but he was heavily involved in preparing her food. Only buying organic, washing and drying it thoroughly himself, and breaking out the cutting board when necessary.

Whatever it took to make her happy.

"Because they're your favorite?"

She looked to him with a bashful smile.

"Yes."

"You could have them all the time."

The words tumbled out of his brain and past his lips before he could stop them. Ezekiel had wanted to broach the subject more delicately, but now that he had an opening now seemed like as good of a time as any. Adah was never more willing to bend to his will than when he was feeding her, and he never could hide much from her anyway.

Besides, she seemed open and relaxed, smiling affectionately at him like something she treasured and couldn't live without. At least, he thought so.

Adah looked up from constructing a cracker sandwich the careful and meticulous way he had shown her, picking up on the sudden tension she felt from him more than what the words implied. Though she picked up language and the things he taught her easily, intention and tone were sometimes lost.

She took a break from stacking meat and cheese cubes to dissect his body language. Ezekiel's forehead wrinkled at the center; Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and then he clasped his hands together with finality. "On land, they're everywhere. I could buy you a basket a day." Adah giggled with excited eyes, reaching out to grasp his shoulders. "That is my…." She racked her brain for the right word. "...dream."

It was his too. How could he make her understand?

Adah's eyes zeroed in on him then, cracker forgotten, as she sat up on her knees to inspect him closely, hands dropping to rest on the tops of his thighs.

"Hurt?" She checked again, sure that must be the source of his distress.

"No," Ezekiel said assuredly, pulling her into his lap. She leaned into the familiar position, stroking the back of his head and neck as he readied himself. The short hairs tickled her fingers with each stroke. He leaned into the embrace, looking up into her eyes with a serious expression.

"It doesn't have to be a dream." Her fingers paused as she focused her attention on what came next. "You could- you should come home with me. We can be together, and not just for a couple of hours. It wouldn't be easy, I know that, but I'll take care of you. Same as I do now."

Adah blinked at him silently while Ezekiel tried to place her expression. His grip on her hips tightened when she shook her head.

"No."

Ezekiel's skin heated just below the surface. It was unlike him, but he hadn't planned on what to do if she said no. Working in the OR had taught him always to have a Plan B and C, but it hadn't seemed possible in this case. If she felt the way he did, it would be a no-brainer. He'd do the same for her if the roles were reversed. Right? No one had ever asked him to abandon the only world he knew, but he felt like he loved her enough to leave it all behind- his family, his career, and the comfort that came with wealth and extravagant material possessions.

His thoughts were in disarray as he scrambled for a new strategy. "You said there are others, like you, that live on land now. If you wanted to, you could, right?"

It was much, much, more complicated than that.

"Others are not- Can not just-" Adah stuttered and stopped, feeling herself get more frustrated by the second as she searched for the right words. None came to mind. Did Ezekiel understand the gravity of what he asked of her? Her voice shook as she spoke over the lump in her throat.

Mermaids that chose the land permanently were shunned by their families and banned from ever returning home. Rumors circled that a long-term life on land could lead to respiratory and joint problems, or worse, premature death for those born in the water. Adah wasn't sure if it was fact or fiction. The elders had good reason for telling those stories. With pollution in the water making it harder to conceive and birth healthy babies, they needed as many merpeople building the next generation as possible.

Adah's mother, Nerissa, was a pillar in their community. To some, she was the most important leader (besides the elders with their immeasurable experience and wisdom). Nerissa patrolled their territory daily, settled disagreements between clan members before they escalated to violence, and even led them into battle when circumstances called for it. One day, their community would expect the same of Adah. She was her mother's daughter, fast and ferocious when necessary, equal parts competent and cunning.

Unfortunately, she was also curious and open-minded in a way that would be frowned upon. If anyone ever found out she was considering living on land instead of doing what was best for the community... She didn't even want to think about what would happen. Her gaze darted between Ezekiel and the stairs that would lead her to the water. Home. This moment felt like the end, or maybe the beginning.

Ezekiel or Family?

"Ezekiel does not understand." Adah shook her head and tried to create space between them, all the while, Ezekiel refused, pulling her closer.

"What don't I understand?"

"It is hard to... explain."

"What is?" Adah refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the threads of the comforter set. Ezekiel gently grasped her chin, forcing her to face him, all the while searching her eyes for answers. He gave her his best reassuring smile, but her beautiful brown eyes didn't look any less said.

With a heavy sigh, she held both palms out. "Life on land. Life in water." She dropped one hand. "Can not choose land."

Ezekiel could barely contain his frustration, matching her exasperated sigh as he scratched the back of his neck. He took in a deep breath and reminded himself to be kind.

"Okay. How come? I mean, why?"

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she gestured the sign for family. Again, he found himself perplexed by her abilities, lips pouting as he eyed her with wary eyes. The only reason he knew ASL was because of a college course. Where did a mermaid learn something like that? Did they communicate with each other like that?

Suddenly, the reality of the situation began to creep in.

Ezekiel was only a few weeks into the deepest connection he had ever felt. Yet, he knew nothing about Adah's other relationships and nothing beyond the superficial about her life underwater. He could have sworn he asked her about her family at one point, but he couldn't recall her answer. There was a mental block. Somewhere along the way, he had formed the opinion that mermaids were similar to other animals in the wild. Parents raised their offspring until they could be on her own and then moved on. But she was saying differently?

Rationally, Ezekiel understood her hesitance to take that next step. He hadn't exactly discussed Felipe, Angel, or Miguel at length either. That didn't make them any less real. Maybe they should take the time to deepen their connection past the superficial, but he couldn't force himself to want her any less. He was beyond that now, so he persisted.

"I could be your family."

A noise that he had never heard escaped her throat. Her expression softened, but no words came. Ezekiel stroked the side of her face, outlining the unbelievably high and pronounced cheekbones. Adah reached up to unravel the Egyptian cotton from her head. Wet, beautifully wild, and tangled hair fanned out around their faces, engulfing Ezekiel in her presence. Being so close, suddenly, all he could think about was living in the moment. She'd asked for a kiss earlier, and he had denied her. What a fool he had been then.

Ezekiel leaned forward with parted lips, his Sirena meeting him halfway. Adah still tasted distantly salty as her tongue roved over his, but the added sweetness of the fresh fruit made Ezekiel's brain swirl. He licked inside of her mouth greedily, groaning as she rolled her hips in search of friction.

Over time, she had learned to tolerate him on top, but it wasn't her favorite. Predators didn't like becoming the prey, but she indulged him anyway, allowing him to pin her to the soft bed. The position and perceived shift in power dynamics made his head dizzy with desire. Even in this small way, capturing her was almost too exciting to handle, especially when she laced her arms and legs tightly around his midsection. He was effectively trapped, but couldn't see it through the haze of lust.

"I dreamed of this, of your legs wrapped around my back," Ezekiel whispered, his ever-growing erection pressed against her clothed center more than sufficient proof. Adah sighed into his ear and grabbed hold of his face. "That is silly to dream."

Ezekiel dropped wet kisses to her neck, finding himself annoyed with how well his t-shirt covered her body.

"You can ask. I will do. For you."

His heart and dick throbbed almost simultaneously. He just barely contained the gasp that threatened to escape his throat. Ezekiel pulled away, seeing the lascivious sincerity in her darkening eyes.

"Just for me." He remarked possessively, almost trance-like. Adah clutched him tighter. "Yes. Just Ezekiel."

His hips jerked forward as if forcibly compelled by her honeyed tone. The light side of him that comforted patients and families alike thought she deserved better- more tender kisses and sweet words at least- before he rutted against her like a wild animal. The darker side of him, the primitive side he tried to keep safely locked away, thought it was what she deserved. She made him lose control in this way.

"What are you doing to me?" He panted, moaning as she pushed up into his lap despite the layers of clothing between them. Each movement was just right, calculated, and formulated to drive him crazy. Adah was always perfectly in-tune with what he needed. So much so that he found it hard to separate his thoughts from hers at times. The worst part was that the realization didn't alarm him, even as she cooed his name and pulled him away from his thoughts once more.

His resolve grew weak, hot air from his delectable mouth sending shivers down her spine as he buried his face in her neck. It was so good, better than anything he had ever felt, and intense that Ezekiel forced himself to choke back sobs. They weren't even connected- bare skin to bare skin- in the way he was used to. Adah's fingers slithered up his shirt and stroked his skin as she repeated something he couldn't understand. Whether it was English or not, he couldn't tell. He didn't care.

Ezekiel lifted his head to look at her with glassy eyes, needing to see the gorgeous face that kept him spellbound before it was all over. Instead, he found himself transfixed by the flashes of blue-green peeking through dark brown.

"Your eyes-" Adah's vice around his midsection grew impossibly tighter, and despite his shocks, he rutted forward without missing a beat.

"What?" Even her voice sounded different to Ezekiel, but he chalked it up to the lack of oxygen getting to his brain.

"You're. Making. Me. Lose. My. Mind." He choked out in between thrusts, moving harder and faster despite the slight pain accompanying his pleasure.

"Yes," Was the last thing she puffed out before he saw stars beneath his closed lids.

It felt like mere seconds when Ezekiel opened his eyes again, but he couldn't be sure. Adah had a way of making him lose track of time. Somewhere in between his long blinks, she had found the time to undress and clean him up. Sweaty sheets were haphazardly thrown across his midsection to preserve his modesty. Ezekiel laughed to himself. Adah was slowly but surely learning the ways of the land.

Maybe there was hope for them after all.

Ezekiel looked around the room for his singer, wincing at the chafing between his legs as he moved to sit up. He called out her name, at the same time as sound returned to his ears. Two loud thumps caught his attention, making him look towards the door he hadn't remembered closing. The third finally stirred him from his sleepy, lazy haze.

Adah emerged from a corner then, moving to stand at the bottom of the stairs with an uneasy expression. Ezekiel studied her through heavy eyelids, having never seen any emotion too far off from joy. When she turned the door handle and looked as if she would leave him, he called out her name once more. Adah turned to face Ezekiel as he scrambled clumsily to stand on shaky legs. He reached out to her with one hand, the other holding the bed sheet to his lap.

"You don't have to go! A fish probably just jumped on board. I'll-" Adah threw out an arm that stopped him in his panicked tracks. "No!" She hissed as he flinched backward. It was a natural reaction, his basic fight-or-flight instinct kicking in, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty. She was the love of his life, no more capable of harming him than a fly.

"No. Me." She softened her tone, but it didn't ease his concern. Her neck and back were tense, body coiled like a snake preparing to strike. Ezekiel wanted to hold her, wrap her up in his arms and squeeze, but something in her stance told him to exercise caution. Could she sense something that he couldn't? Even seeing her in this new light, as more than the alien creature that needed saving or the sweet girl he had grown to love, he decided there was no way he'd let her go alone.

"Together," He declared simply, dropping the bedsheet as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

Ezekiel had never said no to Adah in any capacity. When she wanted him to join her in the water despite his better judgment, he did. When she asked for bigger portions of food, he delivered. And the times they were wholly intimate, and she insisted he finish inside of her, he did it without much hesitation. It was more than reckless considering the circumstances, and in any other situation, he would never. He hadn't even decided he wanted kids or a wife definitively before they met. There was no guarantee a child of theirs could even exist, but he would do anything to make her happy and keep her safe, even when she didn't like it.

When he reached for her hand again, she accepted, letting him lead her up the stairway. In Adah's mind, the action confirmed that moment that she had made a good choice. Ezekiel was strong and brave. Capable and understanding, willing to learn.

He would make an excellent partner.

The rattling continued on board, growing louder with each step, and Ezekiel felt his earlier theory slipping away. Adah clutched his hand tighter. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of the noise either. The same human body that helped her get close to Ezekiel now betrayed her, leaving her with weakened senses.

The galley was empty as they had left it, but fresh puddles of saltwater shined on the boat floor. Ezekiel guided Adah over to the cockpit. He unlocked the air-tight first-aid-kit, rummaging past antiseptics and bandages in favor of a bright orange flare gun. Then despite everything in his instincts telling him to turn around, to go and barricade himself in the cabin with the make-shift weapon, he pushed on. His feet moved purposefully as if compelled until he saw that a much bigger fish had joined them.

More than one, actually.

A baby-faced mermaid desperately clung to the side of the boat, moaning and groaning pathetically while another crouched over the edge in support. His gaze excused their nudity in exchange for the pure terror on the youthful, familiar face. "Azalea," Adah gasped as the young woman crawled onto the deck with the help of her older companion. Ezekiel couldn't tear his eyes away from her, especially as she shook violently and shrieked like a woman possessed. The sound of bones cracking and shifting and the sight of muscles rippling just underneath the skin was unforgettable, yet just as jarring each time.

Perhaps it was the healer in him, but the concern Ezekiel should have felt for himself, he felt for Azaela and the pain she was in. The older mermaid with chunky sun and saltwater bleached braids hanging just past her breasts perched next to the young woman and whispered something in her ear. The ghost of a chant Ezekiel wasn't entirely sure he wasn't imagining hung heavy in the night air.

When blood gushed from her nose, even to Ezekiel, it was apparent that she was struggling more than she should be. He went to help her, but Adah snatched him back. "No. It is first time. Azaela must do alone." Ezekiel frowned. Adah hadn't been alone that first time, so why did her baby sister?

Azalea squealed, and then like a pack of wolves in a horror film, more joined her in her screams. Ezekiel's human ear couldn't discern whether there were only a few or dozens more out in the open water. Not when the sound rang out around the boat, simultaneously, surrounding him wholly. A shiver ran down his spine, but he couldn't look away.

Not until Adah pushed him to stand behind her, baring her teeth at the third mermaid he hadn't taken notice of yet because she approached from the rear. She was the tallest out of the four sirens, standing at the same height as Ezekiel. She, too, bore a striking resemblance to Adah. A near carbon copy with the same eye shape, cheekbones, lips, and skin tone. It was almost like looking at Adah in a time machine, except instead of loose, kinky tresses, her mother sported hundreds of micro braids as a signifier of her status. They hung heavily down to her rounded hips, swaying as she walked.

In some alternate universe where they were all of the same species, he'd have been excited to get a glimpse of what Adah would look like as she got older.

"Now, daughter, what have I told you about playing with your food?" Nerissa flashed them a dark smile and then lifted a webbed hand to brush her dripping wet hair behind one shoulder. Ezekiel followed the trail of shape-shifting skin as it transformed, seemingly painless and at her will. Adah had been changing for weeks and still didn't have nearly that much control. If the ease came with time or if it was just pure skill, he wasn't sure. Either way, this one wasn't in any way helpless or needy. At last, his self-preservation kicked in, and he felt fear.

"That was joke, Ezekiel." Her mother giggled with delight. "We do not eat people." Why did he feel like the main course being served up on a platter then? Nerissa's use of his name made him even more uneasy, especially as she laughed, looking between him and Adah as if waiting for something.

His singer refused to look at him squarely in the eyes even as he tugged on her hand. Instead, she faced forward, glaring in her mother's direction.

Nerissa said something in their native tongue that caused Adah to hiss once more. Eventually, she switched back to English so Ezekiel could understand. "So nice to finally meet you. Up close." Her mother emphasized as she analyzed his face through her blue-green eyes. "I met you before." She stepped forward and twirled Adah's coils around her sharp fingernails. "Even before my darling daughter." He felt Adah stiffen against his chest, but she didn't make any move to step out of her mother's reach.

Ezekiel glowered at the older woman over Adah's head. Trying to figure their interaction out was like trying to complete a puzzle without all of the pieces. He had never met this woman a day in his life, but for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt inclined to believe her.

Ezekiel looked to Adah for guidance. "Talk to me." He tugged on her arm harder, all the while keeping an eye on her daunting mother. Adah snatched her arm away and faced him with her lips pressed into a thin line.

"What's going on?" He asked through clenched his teeth, hands instinctively balling into fists. Her gaze dropped to them and back up. "Do not hate me, please." She touched his forearm lightly and Ezekiel's irritation simmered to a cold calm.

"I don't hate you, but I need to know what's happening right now. Can you tell me?" In the corner, Azalea was helped to her feet and he remembered their earlier conversation. Can not choose land. Family. "Please, just tell me." Ezekiel sighed. With each passing second of silence, dread set in.

"I am sorry." Adah grimaced as she stepped backward, closer to her family and farther away from him, her body language telling the story her mouth couldn't.

Ezekiel felt his chest tighten. Nerissa and Adah joined hands while Azalea and the other did the same, forming a small circle around him before he could even realize what was happening. His mind was still frozen in the moment that Adah made her choice.

She tried to convey her remorse with pouted lips and pinched eyebrows, but he wouldn't look at her. It didn't matter anyway. Ezekiel couldn't go home because he knew their secret. There were only two choices: water or death. She'd rather he live to hate her than meet his untimely end on a hard, cold boat deck.

The chanting started then, repeated phrases in an ancient language Ezekiel didn't understand, making him light-headed and weak in the knees. Dozens of dark heads peaked past the water's surface one after the other in a never-ending, profoundly dark, and disturbing deep-sea version of Pop Goes the Weasel. They bobbed continuously, filling their lungs with the saltwater needed to breathe before their bodies betrayed them and forced the change.

His feet were forcibly frozen in place even as his neck swiveled in a futile search for escape. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of the boat's tinted windows, gasping at the sight of himself.

Ezekiel's usually neatly groomed mustache and goatee were overgrown down his chin and neck. The same hair he hadn't allowed to grow long since middle school, wave at the top of his head. How the fuck? He had just gone to the barbershop a few days ago... He looked to Adah, who's already watching him intently. She took a break from chanting to speak to him. "It will hurt, but you are strong."

"What? What will hurt? What are you talking about? I wanna go-"

"Thank you for your sacrifice." Nerissa breathed and then threw a menacing glance in Adah's direction. "Focus. The transformation must be successful."

An hour later, when Ezekiel curled into a naked ball of flesh and fins with bones jutting out of his hips and shoulders, Nerissa crouched down to caress his side. Ezekiel wheezed desperately through the split skin that will form gills. "It is time, son." She took his weight under one shoulder while the other adult female did the same on the other side. Azalea drug his feet while Adah looked on pitifully as he was tossed overboard.

There was nothing to do now but to wait and see if he would sink or swim.

Yes, mermaids walk the Earth, but not for the reason anyone tinks and definitely not for puppy love. Natural, water-born mermaids are female, always, thus the need to constantly scour the surface for males to mate with. Making matters worst, most men didn't survive the first change.

That was why Adah had spent the better part of a month slowly acclimating Ezekiel to his new conditions. Their transference of bodily fluids, the time she forced him to spend in the water, as well as the spells she spun in his head would all make the transformation easier for him. Things wouldn't get easier for Ezekiel though, even after he changed. He would become nothing more than a round-the-clock sperm donor.

Adah knew it was a necessary evil, one that she had committed before, but for Ezekiel's sake, she found herself wishing things could be different. That they could be different, two beings in love without the weight of responsibility or manipulation affecting their feelings. But she was a mermaid tasked with bettering her community, and soon he'd be a merman, destined to father countless children across the seas.

Mermaids walked the Earth in search of hidden treasures; brilliant, strong, and adaptive men to birth the next generation.

Love had nothing to do with it.

notes: I spent tons and tons of time on this, so please let me know what you think. Did you suspect something all along? Would you classify this as horror? Do you think Adah genuinely cared/cares for Ezekiel? Are there any questions you have for me? I'd be happy to explain because there are so many ideas/theories in my head. I'm just hoping they all come across.

Eventually, I would like to maybe create another one-shot set within this universe, maybe one where Miguel is involved based on this photo set? Personally, I don’t feel too strongly about Emily one way or another, but many of you seem like you would get enjoyment out of her taking a knife to the chest, so let me know. Lol 👀

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes @amorestevens @relaxing-najee @tremendousdinosaurhideout​ @appropriate-writers-name @bugngiz

[joannasteez]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ezekiel Reyes x OC (Talia) || 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Alternative Universe. Inspired by this post || 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes (18+) I’m unashamedly a lover of descriptions. Don’t sweat me too much on this y’all lol, this is my first Ezekiel fic || 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.8k

Credits to the person who made the gif: @spookys-girl

You can read 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐆𝐄, my second EZ fic here and my other fic 𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒, here

✞✞✞

Prison, despite its viciousness and untainted ability to enervate the soul, taught Ezekiel one of many valuable lessons. The art of observation. A nostril flare, the slitting of the eyes, the dilation of the irises, hard tickings of the jaw; all these things were somatic tellings of the chaos to come. But the scenery had changed from a cesspool of death and wrath to one of warmth and familiarity, trading in muted grey prison walls for the unrefined grittiness of the city he called home. A disdainful orange jumpsuit ridded itself away, and once again he donned that simple signature attire he loved so much.

"At your own welcome home party standing in the corner of the club brooding, all introspective n' shit. Can't say I'm surprised".

Angel shook his head in feigned disappointment. Never fully getting used to how methodical his brothers introspective nature could be, in that he could be in the loudest of places, areas and environments where the passing of a single second could bring on some fate changing moment or another and he was completely else where. Free falling and floating in the confines of his mind. The VIP section of the city's most illustrious club was spacious and exclusive, this fact making Angel chuckle at his own mistake. The more space you give Ezekiel to think the further he goes to wander off away from reality.

Just over the balcony of the VIP section swayed a sea of bodies over taken by spirits. The brothers watching on from above.

"If you know me then why complain".

"Because it's my nature to complain when you do that weird shit. Go get a drink, loosen up".

Ezekiel followed through without much hesitation, he himself thinking that the distraction was needed also. Upon stepping onto the main floor the bass became unrelenting, a thunderous boom that trembled the floors. The atmosphere pulsated as some concocted scent of pungency and sweetness wafted, his senses nebulous. As he maneuvered between drunken bodies, he could feel the excitement of the night seep into his skin as it permeated the place. Music and tantalizing liquid spirits joining as a fierce pair to command the wills and courage's of any who dared to partake. Ezekiel wanted to submerge himself into the energy, to feel the exhilaration, if just for a moment, but he needed someone to go there with him, to look caution in its face and throw it freely into the wind.

His desires, fleetly flying and eager, rained down on him as if they themselves lived, to engender the very thing he wanted. The very woman his heart had harbored over for what seemed like the full stretch of eternity.

It was her. Talia.

She was a beautiful girl, with a soft and yet alluring disposition that made his skin crawl in the best way. But that was just it, she hadn't been a girl for sometime now, but a woman who by his observation had come to the full realization of just how dangerous she was. She was half way across the room and nearly bringing him to his knees. It was a terrible misfortune, to be so touched starved with an appetite for one person.

Finally, the bar was in reach, the heavy selection of liquors overwhelming his tendency to be decisiveness about things of this nature. Maybe it was nerve?, the love of his life was just a couple of bar stools away from him. He was on edge.

He hadn't expected to hear her voice so clearly above the obnoxious blaring of some generic beat but he had and the sweet rasp tickled his ears and tightened his gut with want.

"Double shot of tequila please", she called.

And so, as it always seemed to do, an opportunity presented itself, his own voice resonating. "Make that another two, her shots on me".

Her gaze was sharp, earthy toned and scrutinizing as she peered over him. A ghost of realization loomed her features, surprise and then some semblance of neutrality because all the legions of emotion reeling in her, ripping and running over her nerves, was just too much to handle. Or that's how it seemed anyways, what with how in the time that he'd made his presence known, her eyes never wavered from his own with this look of disbelief that was melded with so many other things. Excitement, confusion, shock, anger maybe?

"Actually no, her shots on her. Thanks but no thanks", she shot out quickly.

The bartender with a partially annoyed expression, shifted away to pour the drinks. The life altering moment they seemed to be witnessing completely lost on them.

In his mind, closing the distance between them was the best course of action. "After all this time, still won't let me treat you to anything".

"Give men an inch, they take a mile and then some. I never want to feel like I owe someone, you should know this".

There was an inflection in her tone, as if the brutal distance of eight years and multiple cities would force him to forget little pet peeves about her.

He never forgot. Blessings to his photographic memory he never forgot.

Their drinks came in a matter of moments, the clear liquid resting innocently in the glass that shaped it, but it's taste said otherwise. Pungent and burning. The sensation made both of them wince.

Ezekiel cleared his throat. "You don't owe me anything, but a letter or two while I was inside would've been nice. I've been out what?, a couple months. Never heard from you".

Indignation weighed Talia with a heaviness, nearly to the point of suffocation. Incredulity knitting her brows to a frown. "The phone works both ways Ezekiel. My numbers been the same for nine years".

"Mines been the same for ten".

Talia huffed, rummaging her clutch for her card. "I'm not doing this tit for tat with you all night".

He was faster, slipping the bartender enough to cover both their drinks. "Now you owe me", referring to the tab. "Talk".

There was a moment between them, several seconds of silence comprised of equally parted hesitation and desire. The phrase was correct but slightly misguiding. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, but this fondness is one born of longing and the unbearable desire to have something completely out of reach. The hesitation was, and always would be a protective mechanism to ward off the possibility of pain. But desire was always stronger, more enticing, and so she relented. She talked.

"It was the same excuses every time I came to see you, limited visitations or you just refused to see me. After awhile I just stopped, it hurt too much.......and then as soon as you got out Emily was all over you. I figured it was best to keep my distance".

Prison was a breading ground for wretched conditioning. It made you brutal, your humanity weak. He'd rather her not see him that way, even the thought of it made him sick. "My stint upstate was a lot more brutal than I'd like to admit and it showed. I didn't want you to see me like that".

Her demeanor softened. "I get it".

"Emily was just getting me accustomed to everything again. Haven't seen her in weeks. Don't plan on it".

"Good because she's bad news, cartel ties and shit. She's dangerous".

He smiled. She was, as always, ever the person to worry about him. "I know".

"Who are you here with?", he asked.

"Some friends, but we're all pretty scattered".

"Come up to VIP with me", he guided, and she followed without much objection. The feeling of his fingers too warm and familiar to say no.

At the spin of a new song, the club went up in a roar of drunk celebration, the heavy bass tolerable to the extent that Ezekiel had someone to dance with now.

For Ezekiel, this moment, and every moment after till the dark hours of the morning were nebulous and deliciously destabilizing to his placid instincts. She was undoubtedly special, a conclusion he’d always known, but eight years of isolation had his mind staggered and forgetful. She was a soft alluring thing, mystifying and addictive. Every roll of her hips to the dropping bass set his skin ablaze, the weight in his gut churning as it rushed to pressure his building hardness. He felt possessed, his fingers gripping the leather tightly attached to her skin, guiding her waist as it rolled, flushed against him.

The hard bleed of the music didn’t falter his senses, hearing a small unabashed moan tremble out her throat.

He needed to get her out of here. She must’ve known it too because she slipped in his hold to face him.

The lights in the club gave horrible exposure, but they were close enough. She was completely overwrought, pupils blown out, teeming with a pulling tension.

She cradled his neck, her lips at the shell of his ear. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“At Angel’s ”.

“No you’re not, I haven’t finished welcoming you home yet”.

He nearly hauled her out of the club their exit was so fast.

✞

The rush back to her place was excruciating, an army of stop lights red and glaring as they zipped through the tireless city.

Naturally the key to her apartment refused cooperation much to her dismay and to Ezekiel's amusement.

At the click of the lock she sighed, a sliver of tension running off her shoulders. She faced him, her fingers directing him to various corners of the apartment that were open to his use. "The kitchen is just beyond here, you can put your shoes there and if you need the bathroom it's next to the bedroom just down that hall".

Ezekiel was quiet but receptive, naturally committing the layout to memory.

"You want a drink? A water?, Beer?"

He grinned. "If I take it, it's only so it doesn't seem like I'm rushing you".

She feigned confusion, barely hiding her excitement.

"Rushing me into what?"

He strode to her slow, with the intensity of a wolf. Patient and exacting but visibly hungry. His hands took her cheeks, eyes boring so deep into her own he was sinking.

"Don't play dumb with me baby".

There was a swimming sensation in her limbs, nerves rippling beneath the skin like sea waves. She gasped, Ezekiel's thick fingers commanding her thighs to separate, feet lifting from the floor to wrap around his Herculean build. His stare was dangerous, a dark possessive thing, but his lips, they were soft, pouty and demanding. A pleasure denied for nearly a decade.

He maneuvered to the bedroom quick, a confident agility. The edge of the bed welcomed them, the juncture of her thighs snug against the hardness in his jeans. She moaned at the feeling, lips caressing his for a slow kiss. It was tongue filled and wet, a leisured passion that made him agitated.

His grip was bruising, the pads of his fingers pressing into her thighs to bring her impossibly closer. Forsaking her mouth, as much as it pleased him, he edged his teeth against her neck, rosy lips suckling hard. He groaned, a resonating vibration from his chest when she ground her hips to his. The coarse fabric of the jeans coaxing a pulsating rhythm to strum there. The zipper at the top seam of her leather skirt slid open, the free skin succumbing to Ezekiel's remorseless hold.

He growled at the feeling of her. She giggled at his greediness, lips parting to speak as her fingers lifted the hem of her top. "So touch starved Ezekiel, I'm not going anywhere".

A line of tattoos caught his eye, starting just a few inches from her under arm down to the end of her waist. Intricate designs and bold colors, his brows knitted with a tinge of jealousy. With his left arm around her waist, his other hand touched the art.

"When'd you get these?"

The fingers of her right hand ruffled through his black hair. Eyes taking in the way he examined her. "Couple of years ago. You like it?"

"Your first ink without me".

"You can be there for all the others. You will be", she assured.

He switched there position suddenly, her back slipping onto the soft sheets, hooded earthy eyes watching as he undressed. His shirt went first, rippling muscles and defined veins on full display. He was built solid, strong wide shoulders, and a carved abdomen that slipped into a nice waist. He dropped his bottoms, kicking his rough jeans and Calvin Klein's to the side. He was hard, a rigid shaft of thick veiny flesh, length intimidating, causing a sliver of her anticipation to blur into fear.

He smirked, fingers pulling her closer toward the edge of the bed. Fuck, she thought. If this was it, she'd die on a high at least.

His lips trailed over the exposed flesh of her chest, fingers digging under her to release the restraints of the bra. With an agonizing pace, he licked her skin, the rounded peaks twisting and hardening under the wet touch. Her nails clawed at his back, a silent plea for relief.

Laying just perfectly at the sensitive skin of the bundled nerves between her legs was him, hard flesh pulsing red beneath her skin.

He delved in, a shiver rattling his skin at the feeling.

From it’s beginning, the pace was animalistic. A fervent, mind numbing dig of his hips that rivaled steady avid pulls of his lengthy piercing flesh that dared her to lose her sanity. He was growling curses at the shell of her ear, whispering encourages and praises accented by chest deep moans.

She was in heaven. Body a feather in the air as he rushed his hips to that place in her that laid deep.

“Yes”, she said.

“Please”, she whimpered.

“Ezekiel”, she pleaded.

A pressure at her neck, rigid and strong, made her back lift in an arch. With a domineering hold at the base of it, he lifted her slightly, his left arm a pillar against the sheets to support his own weight. She could see him so clearly like this, his hazel eyes dilated nearly to black. The depths of them mesmerizing as he bottomed out. Imprinting himself, staining her mental like deep red wine. He gave her another bruising kiss, tongue greedy and controlling. His roughness was endearing, the wild pull of his thrust rude and fierce.

“Ezekiel”, she slurred. A soft throaty groan trembling.

He smirked, licking at her lips in lust. “Mmm, that’s it baby”.

His grip tightened slightly, the burn in his gut building. “I missed you so much querida”.

She sobbed a gasp, nearly at her peak.

At the squeeze of her he became ravenous. “You feel that Talia?, you feel how much I missed you?”

“Yes baby”.

“Shit”, he cursed.

She gasped at the rushing release of tension, a scorching heat flushing under her skin, a light tremble in her hips. It made his high all the greater, a lasting thrust to savor the sweet buzz. With a collapse at her side he huffed. Their bodies limp and sated.

✞

With the morning came a dazed euphoria. A soft thrumming in the limbs signifying weightlessness. Pure bliss

Talia shifted, attempting to ease from under the thinly veiled sheets. A sturdy hand forbade it.

"Where you going?", Ezekiel asked. Morning voice chest deep and slightly slurred.

"A shower. Come join me".

With a twist in his grip, her fingers, delicate and loving, caressed the soft plain of his cheek. He was warm, not like the blistering heat of summer, but like the comforting embrace of a crackling fire in the dead set of winter. The feeling of his skin, resting beneath her's, nearly reduced her to tears. Disbelief consumed her so, she nearly thought he'd disappear. Vanish into thin air leaving her lonely once again.

Then he spoke, words dripping smooth into her ears. He was here. Ezekiel was home. "Cmon baby".

The shower, teeming with steam, held also an undeniable residue of tension from that night before. As if every wisp of a whimper and guttural groan had seeped into the walls to bleed around them once again. It was powerful, and potent despite the silence , but without the stillness completely it was addicting. An unwavering ferocity that made their skin shiver and there bodies quake. It was love. Unabashed, unadulterated and completely pure.

He gripped her till she was flush against the tiled walls, and even then he refused to let go, descending to lay a heavy kiss to her lips. It was a languid thing, a slow passion filled with lax tongue and soft whimpers. Desperate fingers gripping at wet skin and rasped groans aged divinely by the nature of the morning. They caressed and licked, pulling at each others lips with sharp teeth and an even sharper desire.

They released, lungs heavy longing for air.

"I love you"

They said.

—————-

[garbinge]

Cynalena ‘Cyn’ Reyes

The youngest Reyes sibling. 

“I stopped being a child the minute you got locked up, actually no, from the day mom died. You and Angel made sure of that.” 

[drabbles-mc]

Remind Me (14/?)

EZ Reyes x OFC (Aanya Reyes)

Request by @noz4a2: Ez & oc are married 2 years, Ez leaves on a run and while he’s gone oc gets into a bad car accident, she almost dies. Instead she is in a coma for 6 months. During that 6 month time Ez goes everyday or as much as he can, reads to her from her favorite book, etc. After 6 months she finally wakes up, but has retrograde amnesia & doesn’t know who Ez is or their life together. So he is determined to help her get her memory back and goes about wooing her again.

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I've had a good portion of this chapter written for a long time and I'm so glad it finally gets to see the light of day.

Chapter Index

EZ Reyes/Reminde Me Taglist: @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @choochoo284 @thesandbeneathmytoes @meadowofsinfulthoughts @mijagif @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @buckybarneshairpullingkink @amorestevens @garbinge @enjoy-the-destruction @bport76 @nessamc @winchestershiresauce @artemiseamoon @littlekittymeow @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardburnsupersoldiers @justazzi @solidly-indulgent @danzer8705 @samcrobae @langiinspirations @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @lightblindingme (If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

When he walked into the clubhouse, he was torn between getting a drink, and just heading right to Templo before the meeting was even called. Letting out a sigh, he turned and was about to start heading towards the latter when someone let out a short, sharp whistle.

EZ turned around to see Bishop sitting at one of the smaller tables in the clubhouse. They locked eyes for a moment before Bishop waved for him to come over. EZ quickly strode over to the table. He sat down across from the club president, suddenly getting washed over by the feeling that whatever Bishop had to say was important, but it wasn’t a Templo discussion.

“Yea, Bish?” EZ broke the silence, attempting to test the waters.

“It was good seeing Aanya today,” he said with a nod.

EZ had been so caught up in everything that had happened since they left the clubhouse, he hadn’t even thought about the fact that the two of them had seen each other. His eyes widened slightly as it all came rushing back. He nodded. “Yea. She’s doing alright.”

“Alright is good,” Bishop said, “especially given everything.”

He exhaled sharply before agreeing. “Especially given everything.” He paused, waiting for Bishop to start whatever conversation he’d called him over for. When he didn’t, EZ said, “Something you need to tell me, Bishop?”

“You think that you’re still going to be able to do this?”

“Do what?” There was a long second of silence. “The club?” When Bishop just gave a wordless nod, EZ didn’t hesitate to reassure him. “Of course.”

“I know last time we talked,” it was evident that Bishop was working hard to choose his words carefully, “this wasn’t how you were expecting things to go. With your girl, I mean.” He saw the conflicted expression on EZ’s face and sighed. “No one would blame you if—”

“I’m not backing out of the fucking club,” his voice was quiet, but angry in its firmness.

Bishop didn’t take the bait, keeping his tone even. “You know I gotta ask.”

“No, you don’t.” EZ shook his head. “I can handle it, Bish. I’ve been fucking handling it.”

“And we’ve been using the fucking kid gloves when we’re dealing with you,” he shot back. He saw how it put EZ back on his heels. “Shit is still moving. We still have business to work. If your priorities need to be elsewhere, then fine. But I need every man on fucking deck, and I need to know if you can handle that.”

For a few seconds, EZ was looking everywhere except for at his club’s president. When his eyes finally landed on him again, he said, “Why are you doing this right now?”

Bishop leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “It was good seeing her today. It was. But if I was in your position,” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, “I don’t know if I would be able to do that and this.” He stopped for a moment before elaborating. “And actually be able to do both well.”

“I’m not you,” EZ said, jaw clenched tight as he tried to keep his feelings from exploding out of him.

“I know,” Bishop conceded. “Which is why I’m even more fuckin’ worried.”

“You don’t know—”

“I know that you’re all she’s got here,” Bishop cut him off.

“So I’m expendable from the club?”

Bishop fought the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s not what I said.” He dragged his hand down over his chin as he thought through his next sentence. “Guys like us, we usually don’t even get lucky once. And that’s…there’s no other way someone like Aanya ended up with someone like you. That was luck. Fuckin’, divine intervention if you ask me.” He paused. “Don’t be so arrogant that you think you’re gonna get that lucky twice. She needs you. You…you need her.”

He saw the look on EZ’s face and knew he was about to fire back with another angry comment, so he held his hand up to silence him. “I’m not gonna go around with you on this all fuckin’ day.” He stood up, pushing his chair back in the process. “We got shit to handle.” He started to make his way towards the back room, barking out, “Let’s go!” to the rest of the guys as he went.

It took EZ a few seconds to be able to get himself up and out of his chair. Despite his initial anger, he knew that Bishop was just looking out for him. More than that, Bishop was looking out for Aanya. It was a good thing of him, acknowledging the fact that there was something in EZ’s life outside the club that might demand more of his time and attention. That wasn’t a courtesy he was known to extend to his men, and with good reason—he didn’t run a successful charter by letting everyone put the club low on their priority lists.

But the conversation brought EZ’s mind back to things that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about for a while. Because Bishop was right: this wasn’t how EZ had pictured things being when Aanya came out of her coma. And luck wasn’t anywhere near a strong enough force to credit for EZ ending up with Aanya in the first place, but it was the closest thing he could think of. He knew that. He knew Bishop was right about that too. He just didn’t want to think about it, because if he did, he was going to have to come to grips with the fact that he might not get lucky a second time around. There was always the lingering possibility that she wasn’t going to fall in love with him again. He had tried not to dwell on it too much because of everything else that she was dealing with, but the selfish part of him couldn’t push it from his brain.

In light of all that, he’d been so wrapped up in her being back and not having her memories that he hadn’t really thought much about the club at all. He showed up for Templo, did his shifts at the yard, but he hadn’t had the mental space to think about the business side of it all, the side that paid all their fucking bills. Truthfully, he didn’t know what was going to happen when he got taken off the reserves bench. When Bishop needed him to start going to late or out of town meetings and on runs again. Leaving Aanya to her own devices for a few days or a week before all of this had happened was one thing. But it would feel cruel to leave her now. Now that Bishop had put the idea in his head point-blank, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it.

“Yo!” Angel called to his brother from the Templo doorway, “You comin’ or what, boy scout?”

EZ nodded, finally forcing himself to focus on the present and get out of his chair. “Comin’.”

Aanya unlocked the front door of their house, stepping inside and being confronted with silence. She softly closed the door behind her as she slipped out of her shoes. She made her way through the house to the living, room, flipping on the lights as she went. She felt a little silly turning on a few extra lights, but it made the house seem less empty.

She set her book on the coffee table and went over to the record player that was perched on the bookshelf. She smiled as she walked her fingers along the vinyls that she had, trying to decide which one she was going to play first. Once she chose, the house was immediately filled with the sound of an acoustic guitar being strummed as the record began to spin. Aanya smiled to herself as she adjusted the volume before going and plopping herself down on the couch to get comfortable and try to get some reading done.

She pulled her legs up onto the couch as she leaned onto the arm of it. Reaching forward, she easily wrapped her fingers around the book on the coffee table, lifting it and placing it in her lap. She dragged her fingertips down the cover of it, rereading the title and mentally preparing to dive in.

She cracked open the cover, ready for whatever journey the book was about to take her on. But before she even got to read the first sentence written in the novel, she was hit with a punch of emotion that knocked the wind right out of her. Looking in the margins of the first page, she saw handwriting that she immediately recognized as her own.

She swiped the pad of her pointer finger over the tiny letters scribbled on the side of the page. She knew the writing was hers. Upon reading it, it sounded like something that she would write. But she didn’t remember writing it. She didn’t remember reading the book at all. No wonder it had ended up in the Previously Loved section of the bookstore—she put it there.

She let out a shaky breath as she contemplated shutting the book and setting it down. She anxiously pulled her teeth along her bottom lip as she tried to figure out if she was emotionally prepared to forge ahead. It felt like a cruel scavenger hunt that she hadn’t agreed to go on, finding little pieces of this woman that she apparently was now that she had no recollection of.

Tears stung her eyes, causing her to try and blink them away. After a few controlled breaths, she decided that it was at least worth a shot. Maybe it would help her remember something. Maybe there was a reason that this was the book that she decided to take home with her once again.

She read the book, and her notes in the margins. She read them like she was reading ones left behind by a stranger, because essentially, that’s exactly what they were. Aside from the initial jarring sensation of the reality of it, it wasn’t as strange as she thought that it was going to be. She picked a pen with a different color ink to make new notations in. There were a few things that caught her eye that apparently hadn’t the first time around, which was interesting. She tried to frame it like that: interesting. She hoped it would make it more bearable.

She had no concept of time as it flew by. She had enough lights on in the house to offset how it was getting darker outside so it didn’t even make it onto her radar. She hadn’t even noticed the fact that the music stopped when the record reached its end. In the course of reading, she had flipped completely around on the couch, draping her legs over the arm of it while her back laid flat against the cushions. She had the book propped on her chest, her pen perched nimbly between her fingers in such a way that it wouldn’t interfere with her turning the pages.

The only thing that brought her back to reality, that let her know how much time had gone by, was the sound of the door opening and EZ’s boots clunking against the floor. Her eyes widened as she sat as upright as she could manage, propping herself on her elbows. Her book was still open to the same page, laying face-down on her stomach.

“Ezekiel?” she called out, although she was fairly certain it was him.

“Yea?” he called back.

“Are you…home early?” she half-laughed as she asked. She already had an inkling as to what the answer was.

He laughed as he walked into the living room, his footsteps much quieter now that he was just down to his socks. He must’ve left his kutte behind in the kitchen as well, because all he had on was his t-shirt. One look at her sprawled out on the couch and he knew exactly what had happened.

He walked over, hands resting on the back of the couch so he could lean and brace himself against it. If it had been about seven months before, he would’ve leaned down to kiss her. As it stood, he simply just gazed at her and shook his head. “I’m not home early, no.” He watched as Aanya dropped back flat against the couch cushions again, and the smile on his face grew. All the stress from the club was momentarily pushed from his mind. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “But!” She held up the opened book that had been resting on her stomach with a smile and said, “I made some good headway on this.”

His smile softened a bit, shrank to be a little smaller. “Is it good?”

She nodded. “It is, yea.” She paused, looking at the expression on his face. “There are some upsides to being able to experience things for the first time again, I guess.”

He let out a breath, some of the tension disappearing from his shoulders knowing that she knew. “I was going to—”

“It’s okay,” she said earnestly as she slipped her bookmark between the pages and set the book aside on the coffee table again. She swung her legs so that her feet were on the floor, forcing her to sit upright and turn to face him. Pushing her hair back out of her face, she said, “It was a little weird, seeing my handwriting in a book that I haven’t read.” She paused. “I mean, I’ve read it, but…”

“I get it,” EZ said with a nod.

The two of them lingered in silence for a moment before she asked, “Did you eat?”

He shook his head. “No, didn’t get a chance to. Shit with the club was…” he sighed, not really wanting to get into it with her. He changed tracks. “I didn’t have time.”

“I don’t want to cook,” she said honestly. “And judging by the look on your face you don’t want to either.” She saw the way he laughed quietly as he nodded in agreement. “I know for a fact there are three different kinds of cereal sitting on top of the fridge.”

“Cereal?” He laughed as the word came out like a question.

“You don’t seem like you eat it for breakfast,” she countered, “so we might as well eat it for dinner.”

He smiled as he nodded. “That’s fair.”

He watched as she hoisted herself up off the couch and made her way towards the kitchen. She moved through the house with so much more certainty than she had before, and it hadn’t even been that long. It put him a little bit more at ease. Maybe the more comfortable she got, the easier it would be for her memories to come back. He could hope, at least.

He followed her into the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he asked, “You gonna climb up onto the fridge to get it?”

“Was hoping you would help me out with that one.”

He chuckled, slipping past her with ease as she grabbed bowls from the cupboard for them. “I got it.”

When they both walked back into the living room, cereal bowls in hand, for a second EZ almost felt like things were how they used to be. Aanya plopped herself down on the couch, pulling her legs up so that she was sitting crisscross, all without spilling anything over the edges of her bowl. EZ sat on the other end of the couch from her, each of them leaning against the arm of the couch closest to them. Aanya already had a bite of cereal tucked into her cheek when she asked EZ to pick something to put on the TV. It took him a moment to really process what it was that she had said because his brain was so busy replaying every other moment that somewhat mirrored that.

“EZ?”

He shook his head a little to try and get his thoughts back into order. “Right. Sorry.”

“Want me to pick?” she asked as she gestured towards the remote with her spoon.

“I got it,” he said with a half-laugh, trying to smother his emotions with the sound.

They were a few episodes deep into nothing serious. With the way that things had been going, EZ figured a mindless sitcom was about the speed that both he and Aanya could handle. He thought that maybe she would tap out of it, that when she finished her breakfast for dinner she would dive right back into her book. But she didn’t. She set her empty bowl on the table, keeping the spoon and twirling it between her fingers as she watched the show. Every now and then EZ realized that he missed an entire chunk of the show because he was too busy looking down at the other end of the couch where Aanya was sitting and chuckling quietly over what they were watching.

When she had been quiet for a while, EZ looked back down towards her again. She hadn’t fallen asleep yet, but he could tell that she was getting closer and closer to it as the minutes ticked by. She was sinking a little heavier against the arm of the couch, spoon discarded and hands stilled. Her eyes were getting heavy but there was still a drowsy smile on her face.

“Aanya?” he spoke up, a little quieter than he intended.

She looked a little more alert at the sound of his voice. “Yea?”

He nodded towards the stairs. “If you’re tired, you can head to bed. You’ve had a long day.”

“Most of it was spent on the couch reading,” she argued softly as she tried to bite back a yawn.

EZ chuckled as he watched her try to fight off the tiredness. “It was an emotionally long day.”

She had no choice but to concede to that. “A little, yea.”

He leaned forward and braced his arms against his thighs. He nodded towards the stairs again. “Go ahead. I’ll throw these in the dishwasher and shut off the lights.”

“You sure?” she asked as she slowly rose up off the couch.

He nodded. “Positive. Go get some rest.”

“Thank you.” She strolled by him, resting her hand on his shoulder for a moment in a soft gesture of thanks. “Goodnight, EZ.”

“Goodnight.”

He had both their sets of dishes in his hands as she watched her disappear up the stairs. Her footsteps were slow, quiet. EZ found himself smiling even though he was also feeling the exhaustion of the day. He took his time rinsing the dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. He meandered through the house, shutting off all the lights and the television as he went. When he reached the top of the staircase, he shut off the one light that illuminated them and finally cast the entire downstairs into darkness.

He walked down the hall, and when he reached the door to their previously shared bedroom, he saw that it was closed. He contemplated knocking, wanting to say an extra goodnight, but he stopped himself. His hand was raised, ready to rap his knuckles against the wood, but he didn’t. Letting out a quiet sigh, he softly rested his fingertips against the expanse of the door for a moment before prying himself away and continuing the walk down the hall to the guest room. He lingered in his own doorway for a moment, looking back at the shut door down the hall before finally flipping the switch and making that hallway dark as well.

He closed the guest room door but not all the way, leaving it cracked. He never really thought much about whether or not to shut the door all the way until Aanya came back from the hospital. Before that, it was the default that the door was always closed. But he didn’t want to close it now and end up inadvertently shutting her out.

He peeled his shirt off and tossed it onto the dresser. Running his hands down his face, he collapsed back onto the bed. His legs were still half hanging off the mattress when his eyes started getting heavy. He didn’t even want to take the effort to pull himself fully onto the bed. So, he didn’t, allowing his eyes to finally shut.

EZ woke to the sound of screaming. He leapt off the bed, body operating on what felt like autopilot, grabbing his baseball bat as he ran out of his room and into hers, ready to swing. He stormed in but was met with an empty room, save for Aanya sitting on the bed, sobbing into her hands. His arms drop back to his side, letting the bat tap lightly against the ground as he lowered it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs. “It was just a bad dream. You, you can go back to bed. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He leaned the bat against the door and turned on the light before he walked over. He sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to apologize. Anything I can get you?” He saw the fear in her eyes and all he wanted to do was hold her.

“I don’t know,” her voice wavered as she spoke.

“You want a hug?” he offered.

She nodded but didn’t say anything. He shifted farther onto the bed and pulled her into him so that she was leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to kiss her. She trembled in his arms as the tears continued to flow. He gently rubbed her back, wishing that there was more that he could do to help her. The warmth from his chest radiated against her cheek. It almost felt like it was coursing through her entire body. It didn’t fix everything, but the warmth, the comfort, it certainly didn’t hurt.

They sat like that for a few minutes until she calmed down. She pulled away from him slightly, wiping the tears from her face as well as his chest. She was halfway through apologizing for crying all over him when she realized what he was wearing.

“Did you…do you wear jeans to bed?” She sniffled, a hint of a smile on her face despite the tears still welling in her eyes.

EZ laughed. “Uh…yea…sometimes,”

“How is that comfortable?” She chuckled, wiping at the last of the tears on her face.

He shrugged, just glad to see her smiling. “It’s just a habit, I guess. You, uh, you were never a fan.” A small smile passed over his face for a moment. “You’re responsible for me even owning a pair of pajama pants.”

She laughed. “I see they’re doing you a lot of good.”

“Old habits die hard.”

The smile on her face was a tired one, but genuine nonetheless. “I guess so.”

He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”                         

“You know,” she shook her head, “I don’t, I don’t really remember being in the accident. Not here.” She pointed to her forehead. “But things like this makes me feel like I do. Times like this, or even sometimes when my mind just…drifts. I don’t know if it’s something my brain is just making up, or if it’s a real memory it’s trying to work through. Something from here.” She gestured to the back of her head for a moment before letting out an exhausted laugh. “Not that that’s really how the brain stores memories.”

EZ shot her a smile, shaking his head. “Nah, front-to-back memory storage sounds right. That’s definitely what they teach in medical school.”

“And you’d know what they teach in medical school?” She said it as a joke, not realizing how close to the truth she was skirting.

He let out a short, dry chuckle, trying not to think about all of that on top of everything else that was happening in the moment. They could only piece apart one tragedy a night and Aanya was a much more sympathetic victim as far as he was concerned.

“A little, yea.”

She looked over at him, confused. “How?”

It felt silly, to sit there and talk about his incredibly short stint in college while she was battling and trying to figure out what was a nightmare and what was a memory. But if a distraction was going to help her keep it together, he wasn’t going to take that from her.

“I, uh,” he looked over at her for a moment, “I was pre-med for a little bit.”

“You were? What,” she sniffled, “what happened?”

He exhaled, the breath pushing past his lips after exerting more effort than it should’ve taken just to breathe. “It’s complicated. Long story short, I did not become a doctor.” He punctuated his sentence with a soft chuckle, one that felt more genuine than the first.

It got Aanya to laugh a little. Her heart was still speeding inside her chest, her mind still reeling, but there was still a tiny shred of ease to be found in the midst of it all. Even if he didn’t say it, even if she didn’t ask, she knew that there was much more going on with EZ than she could try to fathom. And things with her were what they were. She couldn’t articulate it, but it felt like there was something to be said about that, about the fact that they were there together still, in whatever capacity they were.

She dropped her head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh. There were a few moments of silence. It was just Aanya focusing on the rise and fall of EZ’s torso as he breathed. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, not that she was going to be falling back to sleep anytime soon. His skin was warm against her cheek, and part of her was aware of the fact that maybe it was too much, too familiar, but she was too drained and exhausted to care. With the way that it all was, she wasn’t going to be turning away anything that made her feel just a shred more normal, no matter how fleeting the feeling was.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, eyes still closed.

He reached and rested his hand on her leg, the callouses on his palms not feeling as harsh against her soft skin as she thought they would. He waited for her to flinch, to pull away, but she didn’t. He eased into it, allowing his head to rest against hers for a moment.

He kept his voice at a whisper too. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

She hummed softly. “I woke you up.”

He chuckled. “I’ll be alright.” He paused. “I’m sorry.” He turned his head slightly and was centimeters away from pressing his lips to the side of her head when he managed to rein it in. Instead he just rested his forehead against the side of her head. “If I could fix it—”

“You would,” she finished the sentence for him. “I know.”

“Do you need anything?” he asked as he fought to keep his composure.

She shook her head as she peeled herself off of his shoulder. “I’m okay.” She paused for a moment before correcting herself. “I’ll be okay.”

It physically pained him to peel his hand off of her thigh, but he managed it. Aanya was wiping the lingering tears off of her face as he discreetly reached up to brush them from his shoulder. He knew that he should get up and head back down the hall to his room, but he couldn’t quite force himself to stand up.

“What’re you thinking, Ezekiel?” she asked, tiredness thick in her voice now that her emotions were starting to level out again.

He looked over at her and shook his head. “I’m not.” He paused. “How often…has this been happening every night?”

“No,” her reply had no hesitation. “Not every night. Only a couple times.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he made sure to keep his voice soft.

“There’s nothing we can do about it, right? It’s just,” she gave a helpless shrug, “just a bad dream.”

EZ frowned, knowing that she wasn’t wrong. His nightmares were all memories, but he knew better than anyone that there wasn’t anything to be done about them once you were having them. By then, it was already too late.

“Right.” He rested his hands on his knees. “If it happens again, I’m…I’m right down the hall.”

Her smile was tired, weak, but genuine. “Yes, you and your baseball bat.”

He chuckled. “If someone had been breaking in, it would’ve been useful.”

“And you would’ve gotten a homerun?” she asked with a soft laugh.

“Yea,” he nodded, “something like that.”

He finally stood up and took a step towards the door. He grabbed the bat as he went, keeping a loose grip on it. Looking back over his shoulder, he offered one more goodnight to Aanya. She answered in kind, her voice making it sound like she was already halfway to falling back to sleep. He lingered in the doorway for a moment as she crawled back beneath her covers. Once her head hit the pillow, he shut the door behind him and made his way down the hall.

When he stepped back into the guest room, he walked over and rolled the baseball bat back beneath the bed where it had been a little while before. He was about to lay down, attempt to tuck himself in and go back to sleep, but he stopped himself. With a deep sigh, he walked over and pulled open one of the dresser drawers. He dug around in it for a moment before his hand landed on one of the pairs of pajama pants that Aanya had gotten for him over the years.

He pulled them out and slid the drawer shut. When he walked back over to the bed, he undid the button and zipper on his jeans, pushing them down so the denim pooled around his ankles. Stepping out of them, he unfurled the pants in his hand and stepped into them. He let out an exhausted chuckle when they were situated on his hips.

They were more comfortable. They always were. He knew that, too, even before he had Aanya kindly forcing him to wear them to bed instead of his jeans. He got into bed, laying on top of his blankets still as he looked up at the ceiling. At least this time his head was rested on his pillows. He toyed idly with the drawstring on his pants as the memory of getting them flashed through his mind. Aanya had the same pair in shorts form. That was what she always did at first. It was how she convinced him to wear them, because she knew that he was too soft to say no to something for the both of them.

And it worked. It worked like a fucking charm every single time. Even when he was still living in his trailer there were countless nights that were just the two of them laying on the crappy little sofa-turned-mattress in matching pajamas, each of them with their nose buried in a book. It felt strange at the time, but it felt good, too. It was all so simple back then.

Letting out a heavy sigh, EZ forced himself to get underneath the covers, to let himself have that small bit of comfort in the middle of everything else. Putting one hand behind his head, he let his eyes close, knowing that even if he wasn’t going to fall back to sleep at this point, it was better than nothing.

[tulipjeanohare]

Untitled

PAIRING: EZ Reyes x OC (Sloane)

NOTES: I wrote this during Season 2 and just never shared it but I’ve been wanting to get back into writing. SO, I hope you guys enjoy and I’d love feedback!

WARNING: Mature Themes.

Credit to the person who made the gif @shadesalvarez

WORD COUNT: 6, 370

It was another typical Friday night at the bar; the place was packed wall to wall, a new band was perched on the stage performing a set list of songs she’d never remember, and the regular unfavorable drunks were crowding the bar top. Just another weekend wasted working behind the bar when she’d much rather be somewhere else doing just about anything other than this. The bar wasn’t that bad, really. But it wasn’t what she wanted. It paid the bills and that was all that mattered to her as a single mother.

There was never time for men and she was fine with that. Her son didn’t need any other men dropping in and out of his life. That much she were sure of. So she lived the monotonous life that she had grown accustomed to the last few years. During the week she worked at a local art museum in an attempt to keep her passion for art alive while she couldn’t afford to actually make any then the weekend came and she spent her nights slinging drinks for every lowlife that decided to slither into the dimly lit hole in the wall bar off the highway.

It wasn’t as bad as it seemed, she had regulars that she loved seeing and for the most part everyone kept their hands to themselves and tipped rather well. The whole single mother thing did work to her advantage from time to time. But every now and then some idiot would come in trying to impress whatever frat friends he had drug along with him and made a pass at her. She could normally handle herself pretty well but when they got too aggressive she defaulted to the gruff, muscular man they’d hired to work security.

Tonight was no exception to any of this.

Earlier in the evening she had dropped her son off at her friend’s house and gave him an extra long hug. Promised him she’d see him bright and early in the morning and she was off. It never got any easier to leave him; he was four now and was the smartest kid she’d ever met, she might be a little biased but it was true. Those big brown eyes of his melted her heart every time he gave her the same sad puppy dog face before she left. She knew he was fine there. He loved her friend, she was like family to the both of them. But she still hated to leave him to go deal with a bunch of overly macho men for hours on end.

By the time she got to the bar the place was already crowded and the band had already started to play. As quickly as she could she made her way behind the bar and dumped her bag and jacket in the backroom before making her way to her first customer of the night.

-------------

EZ had taken off from the clubhouse almost two hours ago without a plan in his mind of exactly where he was going. All he knew was that he needed some space. He needed to forget the life he’d chosen for just a few hours and pretend he wasn’t the man he’d become. The loud engine of the motorcycle roared in his ears as he passed a big black sign reading ‘Big Al’s Roadside Bar, Next Exit’.

That’ll have to do, he thought to himself.

When he pulled into the gravel lot in front of the building there wasn’t a single motorcycle in sight and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders he didn’t know had been there. Before he headed inside he took off the leather cut with his name stitched on one side and shoved it into the bag on the side of his bike. There was no reason for anyone here to know who he was or that he ran with any club.

His watch read half past eleven when he entered the door. Enough time for him to have a couple drinks and maybe make his way to that motel he'd noticed just up the road. The place was loud and the people were crowded inside like a can of sardines so he figured his best bet would be to make himself at home up at the bar, hide himself in the corner there and get a little drunk.

Once he reached the bar though he was a little more than surprised to see such a beautiful woman behind it. All the bars in Santo Padre either had weathered old ladies behind them or former inmates he’d probably seen in passing during his time inside. The woman behind this bar was far more beautiful than anyone he’d seen back home in a long time. She had thick mess of black hair that fell well past her shoulders, he watched as she pulled it back into a bun at the nape of her neck.

She looked real. Not like the girls who hung around the clubhouse in hopes of becoming someone’s old lady. Her face was bare except for the gloss that created a sheen on her plump lips. Lips he’d pay good money to kiss. The black jeans she had on hugged her every curve so tightly he couldn’t help but stare when she turned to hand another bar patron their drink. The T-shirt she wore had the Virgin Mary printed on the front, exactly like the statue that sat inside the clubhouse in Santo Padre, but he was sure if wasnt some funny pun for her because he’d noticed the delicate cross necklace hanging around her neck. One arm had a smattering of tattoos he couldn’t quite make out while the other seemed bare.

It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d been staring at her until she turned to him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face before leaning her palms against the bar top, “you wanna order something or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“Shit, sorry,” he quickly answered.

A laugh fell from her lips, a laugh that rang over the music. It was sweet and soft, no malice behind it. It made EZ’s shoulders relax a little. “S’ok...not the worst anyone has ever done in this bar. Long day?”

“You could say that,” EZ replied.

Without a word she nodded, reached under the bar for a cold beer and popped the top off before sliding it across the table to him. “Nothing an ice cold beer can’t help, right?”

“Amen,” he smiled, reaching in his pocket for some cash.

Before taking it the bartender eyed it for a second, “you wanna just open a tab?”

“Nah, I’ll take it one beer at a time,” he assured her.

-------------

The rest of the night went off as usual; the same guys sidled up to the bar to grab her attention for a few quick moments before another pushed his way up to her. But there was one thing that was different tonight. The guy at the end of the bar.

He wasn’t like the others. His eyes were kind and he spoke with more eloquence than any man she’d met in her entire life had. He was polite and quiet, a god send on a night like tonight. So she spent a little more time at his end of the bar than any other. Any time he would finish a beer she was sure to be right there with a fresh one and he would hand her another handful of bills.

One beer at a time.

Things were beginning to quiet down at one when it happened.

She was wiping down the bar top at the other end of the bar when a new guy took a seat. He leaned over a little too close for comfort when she asked him what he wanted. Then when she handed him the class of brown liquor he’d asked for he grabbed her hand in his, which she quickly shook herself free of.

EZ took notice of the interaction. He’d been nursing another beer, trying to decide if it was time for him to head to that motel when he saw the guy grab hold of her hand. He felt himself begin to react before she shook her arm free, scowling at the guy before walking back down towards him.

“You alright,” he asked, his voice low so only she could hear.

A smile crept across her lips as she nodded, letting her elbows rest on the wood top while she leaned over it. “I get five of those guys a night...that’s nothing. I appreciate your concern though...I never got your name.”

“EZ,” he smiled, those pearly white teeth of his on full display.

Standing there across the bar from him, a mere few inches from him, she felt like her heart skipped a beat. There’s got to be a catch here, she thought to herself. “EZ? Interesting,” she smiled, holding her hand out for him. “I’m Sloane, nice to officially meet you.”

When he took her hand in his she could feel the slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She hoped to god he couldn’t see it in the dim lighting in the bar. But the rough, calloused feeling of his palm against hers felt nice. A sign of a real man.

And EZ got a rush of electricity through him as he held her hand in his. He could smell her perfume wafting in front of him when she leaned in closer to him. It was like a field of fresh flowers on a breezy day. “That’s a nice name, it suits you,” EZ said softly.

Before either of them could say anything else someone at the other end of the bar was shouting for her. Quickly she gave him an apologetic look before making her way to the person.

Once again EZ was tempted to watch her; the way she moved was so easy, like she was doing a dance every time she’d spin around to grab a bottle of liquor or reach one way or the other for a glass. The same piece of hair kept falling in her face until she finally pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall at her shoulders. Somehow it made her even more beautiful to him. The dark mess of hair she’d had pulled back before now framed her face. Every now and then she’d tuck a piece behind her ear before it fell again.

The way he was feeling towards this new stranger in front of him was different. It had been a long time since he’d felt any sort of way about a woman. His mind had been stuck on one in particular and it was becoming more and more evident that nothing was ever going to happen with them again.

She wasn’t Emily but deep down he felt like she might be better than Emily.

Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts he noticed the same guy from before giving her a hard time. But this time he had a hold of her forearm, hard enough that her skin was white where his hand held to her. He gave her a few seconds, waiting for her to pull free of him again or for the bouncer to jump in but nothing like that happened. The guy kept holding onto her and she was getting more and more agitated as the interaction went on.

“Let go of me right now,” she all but shouted at the guy.

He rolled his eyes, leaning in closer to her, “oh come on, stop playing hard to get and just let me take you home.”

Before she was able to get another word out EZ had his hand on the guys arm and was almost chest to chest with him. “Let her go before I make you,” he said, his already deep voice seeming to drop another octave.

Now it was a tangle of arms in the middle of them. EZ holding tightly to his while the guy still kept his hold on Sloane. And the next thing she knew the drunk guy was headbutting EZ and lunging towards him. With her arm now free her eyes darted around the room in search of her back up, the guy that was generally posted up at the end of the bar to keep his eye on her was nowhere to be found. All she could do now was hope it didn’t get too out of hand.

EZ took a quick swing at the guy and landed his fist right on his chin, knocking the guy back a couple steps. But that didn’t stop him from going at her new friend again; swinging with all his might in hopes of landing something. It was clear to Sloane that this wasn’t EZ’s first fight, he knew what he was doing but the other guy was way in over his head with too much testosterone and alcohol running through him to tell him to stop while he was ahead.

A few more punches had the guys lip bleeding and his already wobbly footing worse. By that time the bouncer had made his way back to the bar and quickly grabbed hold of the swinging drunk and started to cart him out of the bar. He turned to yell at the other man that he’d be back for him but she stopped him, “let him be, he was just stepping in to stop that guy. He’s fine.”

The bouncer glanced from his bartender then to the muscular man standing just a few feet from him, not a single bead of sweat on him. All he could do was nod and continue kicking the other man out of the place.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Sloane shook her head, trying to conceal the smile attempting to break across her face.

As much as she hated having anyone thinking they needed to defend her honor she had to admit that it was really hot seeing him land that punch. And his body hadn’t looked bad doing so either.

She pulled another bottle of beer from the ice and handed it to him, “this one's on me, as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” he started.

Shaking her head she pushed the money he’d started to hand to her back his way, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

-------------

The band had long since vacated the stage and people were filing out of the bar by the time EZ had decided it was time to leave. Sloane had been a breath of fresh air for him and he didn’t want to have to head out any sooner than he had to. But he figured she wanted to get the place cleaned and clock out so he’d dropped some cash on the bar top for a tip and started for the door. But soon he heard her familiar voice call out to him.

“Hey,” she shouted, her voice carrying over the soft music playing from above. “How do you feel about a couple drinks...back at my place?”

EZ wasn’t sure he heard her right. Sure, she’d given him a little more attention than any of the other bar goers tonight but he hadn’t even for a second thought she’d ask him back to her place. The room felt a lot quieter as he stumbled with his words, completely caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, yeah...that actually sounds great.”

“Give me ten minutes,” she replied before bouncing off to wipe down the tables scattered around.

-------------

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm on the drive to Sloane’s place, both of them eager to hear the other’s voice no matter what they were saying. Every now and then she’d catch his gaze lingering a little longer than he’d intended for her to see and it gave her those familiar butterflies from earlier in the night. She was having an internal battle with herself though; this is so stupid...what do you thinks going to come of this, she’d hear the voice in her head ask. But she didn’t care. It had been years since she’d had any kind of relationship with a man, one night would be good for her.

So, a fifteen minute drive later and they were pulling up to the front of her apartment building and he was following her closely up the stairs. To be fair he wanted to press her up against her door the minute they hit it but he restrained himself, he wanted to let the night last as long as possible. He was enjoying himself. Enjoying not thinking about his life back home.

“Place might be a little messy,” she told him, kicking her shoes to the side as soon as she stepped inside with EZ following suit.

While she busied herself in the kitchen searching for the liquor EZ wandered around the living room, taking everything in. The place was immaculate except for a few toys strewn about on the floor; a small blue blanket with cars all over it tossed over the side of the couch hastily, a tiny plastic easel in the corner with a freshly done finger painting clipped to it. Next to it was a larger one with the beginnings of an incredible, vibrantly colored painting.

“You have a son,” he asked, his voice carrying to Sloane in the kitchen as she grabbed a couple glasses.

Biting her lip she nodded, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch before making eye contact with him. “Yeah, he’s the one guy in my life,” she beamed. “Just turned four last month, he stays with my best friend while I work at the bar on the weekend. Is it weird?”

“Nah, I love kids,” EZ smiled. “Dad in the picture?”

Sloane shook her head, pouring some of the brown liquor into the glasses. “No, it’s probably for the best anyways. We make a pretty good little duo. What about you?”

“Just me,” he said, wincing a little as the hard liquor stung the back of his throat. “Pretty close with my pops...and my brother.”

It was tempting for her to question the little pause he made before he mentioned his brother but she didn’t think it was any of her business having only just met him a few hours ago. She felt so at ease with him though she almost asked, it was on the tip of her tongue to say something but she held back. The smile that lingered at the corner of his lips told her there was good there.

The two of them sat side by side on the floor in front of the couch; the coffee table pushed out a little to give them more room, their bodies turned towards each other so they could talk, the brown liquor getting less and less in the bottle. There had been a handful of moments where EZ had wanted make a move. To rest his hand on her thigh or tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear before leaning in for a kiss. But he wanted to hear more about her and her life and everything about her.

He was enthralled.

And so was she.

She could see the kindness in his eyes. Past the bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek there was more to him. When they had left the bar she’d noticed the motorcycle and wanted to ask him about it but she decided not to. There was probably something there she wouldn’t like and tonight she just wanted to have fun. Every time he made even the slightest move the veins in his forearms shifted just the slightest bit and it made her think of how it would feel to have those arms wrapped around her body. Then he’d speak and she was enticed by the deepness to his voice, the diction in the wash he spoke was nothing like she’d heard around there before. The guys there wouldn’t know how to string an intelligible sentence together if their lives depended on it.

EZ was different.

-------------

Sloane rested her head on the chest of the new man in her bed. One arm of his slung around her waist while his hand gently stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. She let her hand rest on his abdomen before she let her fingers trace lines down the center of his stomach. He was all muscle and she could feel it while he was on top of her, the way his body weighted over her as they moved in rhythm together.

The room was silent except for the heaviness of their breathing. EZ felt chills run up his spine the way she tucked her leg over his bare thigh while they laid there. Her soft skin felt like silk against his and he wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. If he closed his eyes long enough he could still see her silhouette above him in the dark room. He could envision the way her hips moved back and forth as she rode him. His fingers holding tightly to her hips until he finally pulled her down close to him so he could nip and kiss at her skin.

For a second he leaned down and pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair, a simple gesture that spoke volumes, before he spoke. “Ezekial,” he said quietly.

“Huh,” she questioned, turning so she could rest her chin on his chest.

The outline of his face just visible in the moonlight pouring in through the closed blinds. “That’s my name. My full name. Ezekial.”

“I like that,” a smile spread across her face and she wasn’t sure why. She turned her face to nuzzle her nose against his bare shoulder before peppering his skin with a few quick kisses. “Ezekial.”

EZ loved the way his name sounded coming off her lips. The raspiness in her voice and the way he could almost hear her smile as she said it. He’d heard it countless times before but it felt special when she said it.

After a few more silent minutes she got up to use the bathroom and he leaned over to grab his boxers, sliding them on before he turned the bedside lamp on. The bathroom door was left open a crack and he could just barely see her naked frame moving in front of the mirror before she pulled his shirt on over her head. His eyes wandered down her body as she walked back into the bedroom, the shirt of his clinging to her curves and just stopping below her ass.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, reaching his hand out to her as she moved to the side of the bed.

She couldn’t help but smile back at him. Not because of the compliment but because of the way his face lit up as he said it. The laugh lines next to his eyes crinkled as his smile widened and it made his deep brown eyes even more endearing than they already were.

Thoughtlessly she let him take her hand in his and pull her down onto him on the bed. Her legs rested on either side of him as he let her sit in his lap, his hands resting at the small of her back. If he had it his way this night wouldn’t ever end. He hadn’t thought about the club or his brother or Emily all night and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Where’d they make you,” she asked with a hint of a laugh in her voice. “You’re...different. Good different.”

He didn’t answer her with words. He simply just wrapped his arms tighter around her and pulled her into his chest before he pressed his lips against hers once more. There wasn’t any hesitation there; her lips parted to allow his tongue to slide across her bottom lip before they let themselves get lost in the kiss. Sloane’s mind wandered back to earlier in the night after they’d finished their whiskey and their bodies had somehow moved closer and closer to one another where they sat. She could see his eyes move to her lips every now and then while they talked and she wanted to beg him to kiss her about a hundred times before he actually did.

And once he finally did they were quickly moving to the bedroom. Her bedroom she hadn’t shared with anyone but her son in a very, very long time. They’d stumbled down the hallway attached at the lips before he finally grabbed ahold of her and pressed her up against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as they both yearned to be closer to each other.

“Is this okay,” EZ had asked, his lips trailing down her neck while his hands held tightly to her back side.

It had made her smile; it had been a very long time since any man had ever asked her permission for anything let alone this. So she had placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled his attention back to her face before speaking. All she said was a breathless yes before they stumbled their way to the bedroom.

By the time Sloane was able to pull herself back to reality, back from her thoughts Ezekiel had flipped her onto her back and was pushing his shirt up over her chest to let his mouth wander over her breasts. A shiver shot through her at the feeling of his soft lips kissing and sucking at her skin. She let her fingers run over the smooth buzzcut of his as he traveled farther and farther down her body until she could feel his warm breath between her thighs.

Before they had both been so hungry for each other all they wanted to do was get off and quickly. But now they wanted to take their time. EZ wanted to explore her body; he wanted to hear the way she’d moan the first time she felt his tongue on her, he wanted to know how it felt to have her body wrapped around his while they made love. Sloane wanted to hear his gruff voice whispering to her while he was inside her, to feel the weight of his strong body on top of hers once more.

The room had fallen silent except for the sound of the shaky breaths she was taking as he gave his full attention to her core. His tongue lapped at her lips teasingly before she felt his teeth graze the sensitive little nub tucked inside. A whiney moan escaped her, her back arching at the new sensation. His hands held tightly to her thighs with his face buried between them for what felt like an eternity and by the time he pulled back her entire body was shaking on the edge of an intense orgasm.

“Ezekiel...please,” she almost pleaded with him.

A smile curled at the corners of his mouth before he peppered the inside of her thigh with kisses, “be patient, baby.”

And she tried to stop herself from letting out the sound that came next but she couldn’t help herself. The moan was throaty and full of lust, her lips parted perfectly and bright cherry red from how she’d been biting on the bottom lip. Hearing him call her baby was more than enough to encourage her to hold off for him. If she was honest she’d do just about anything for him right now.

Once more his lips trailed her skin but this time he was heading upwards, leaving the spot between her legs he’d made himself at home at and making his way to her breasts. The pink colored skin of her nipples was pebbled and hard from just the light nibbles he was giving her skin. But he hadn’t forgotten about her needs; while his mouth made quick work of her nipples he let one hand slip between her thighs and slipped two fingers inside of her which elicited a sharp intake of breath from her.

Her body writhed underneath him in an attempt to hurry along her orgasm because she knew once she came like this he’d been inside of her. And her body felt like every inch of her was on fire the way he was working her core with just his fingers. The tips of his calloused fingers were gliding over her gspot repetitively while his thumb rubbed back and forth over her clit.

Just as her back began to arch off the sheets below her EZ moved his attention from her chest up to her neck and then let his lips rest against her earlobe before he spoke. “Can you come for me,” he whispered, his free hand caressing her side.

In her head she had a witty line to reply with but she couldn’t get it out. The wires were crossed because her body was in overdrive the way he was fucking his fingers into her. So she settled on a lot of eye contact and a quick, almost pleading, nod of the head.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

At that her legs began to shake and she let her nails dig into his bare back as she began to hit her climax. A few throaty moans broke the silence in the room before he pressed his lips to hers, letting his mouth swallow her audible pleasure as she came down.

For a few short moments the two of them laid there tangled together allowing each other to cool off. But she could feel how hard he was as his erection pressed into her hip. Without a word she slipped her hand between the two of them and slowly stroked him, his hips absentmindedly working in motion with her hand. “I need you,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his temple.

They both knew one of them should’ve reached for a condom. It wasn’t anything new to either of them to use protection but they couldn’t be bothered in this moment. Both of them ached to feel that closeness between the two of them again. They each wanted to feel the slow movements of the other while they were so intimately joined together. Before had been quick and sloppy. But this, this was going to be slow and needy for both of them.

They hadn’t spoken of it but they both knew the other needed this intimacy. He was looking to forget his life back home for a while and she was holding off on reality herself. She wanted to remember what it felt like to have a man’s gentle touch, to be with someone who wanted to be with her.

EZ lifted his head until their foreheads were resting against one another, his nose grazing the tip of hers as he repositioned himself between her legs. He pushed her legs wider with his muscular thighs, his cock grazed her lips for a second before he slowly slide inside of her.

In unison they both let out shaky moans; her hands gripped onto his biceps as he hovered above her, their faces still touching. His eyes studied her face for a few more moments before he began working his hips against hers. The soft sound of skin on skin filling the quiet bedroom. One hand of his slipped beneath her to grab hold of her backside while the other slide up her neck until it was placed just under her chin, the slightest amount of pressure applied.

“Ezekial,” she sighed, her lips curling into a smile at the feeling of his hand around her neck.

He had to clinch his jaw to keep his composure. Hearing his name fall from her lips like that, with the visual of his hand where it was placed was too much for him. And the way her body moved in rhythm with his as he fucked her slowly only made him more sensitive. To keep his mind occupied, to hold himself off as long as possible, he busied himself kissing up her jawine until he buried his face into the crook of her neck. The faint smell of her perfume lingered there.

Sloan let her eyes flutter closed as he allowed himself to rest on top of her, bringing them closer together as they fucked. One leg hooked behind him to keep them close while her hands held tightly to his broad back. His skin was soft to the touch and he smelled like sandalwood, she couldn’t imagine anyone like him ever being in jail but he’d divulged that to her earlier. If it had been anyone else she would’ve ended the night but not with EZ. No, for some reason even after he told her about his past she still felt safe with him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he finally spoke again.

She smiled against his ear, nibbling at the skin, before pressing him back from her and back onto the bed. For a split second he fell from her but she quickly straddled him and guided him back to her core. A shutter went through her at the way she stretched around him. “I could do this all night,” she finally replied, her breathing uneven.

That beautiful smile of his spread across his face and she couldn’t help but smile back. Even in the darkness of the bedroom she could still see how perfect it was, she could still map out the little creases at the side of his eyes that formed when he smiled.

Resting her hands on his chest she began to buck her hips back and forth quicker now. His hands found their way to her hips and held onto her as he watched her from below, his hips working up against her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted at the feeling of him slipping deeper inside of her. EZ’s eyes were fixated on the way her breasts bounced up and down with every movement either of them made.

The tattoos that littered her skin on display as she rode him and he wanted to kiss every last one, trace them with his fingertips while they laid naked together. He wanted to know about the little one that sat on her left hip all the way up to the lotus flower at the nape of her neck.

Soon he was pulled from his thoughts when he heard her call out his name once more. This time it was needy; her brow furrowed together as her body leaned down closer to his. Instinctively he placed his hand into her mess of hair and pulled her down even closer until they were chest to chest. Again their foreheads hovered close together as he began to take control.

It was her turn to watch him as he fucked up into her in an attempt to get them both off. Short, choked moans came from both of them as they got closer and closer. She could see the neediness behind those brown eyes of his. And she could feel it in the way he was holding onto her, his fingers digging into the skin of her ass.

Slipping a hand between them she began to work her clit in time with the way he was working into her and it made her breath catch in her throat. The sudden newness of the pressure against the bundle of nerves drove her closer to the edge. And he could feel it in the way she tightened around him so suddenly.

Again they locked eyes as he fucked into her a few more quick times before he felt her tighten against him. Her mouth fell open as she let out the most lust filled moan he’d ever heard. Which only egged him on more, thrusting into her at a punishing pace until he finally released inside of her. Her lips rested against his earlobe as she let out a few more soft, whiny moans while he slowly continued to work into her.

The two of them went at it like this for the next few hours until the sun began to creep into the room through the blinds. He held her close against his chest as they spoke in hushed tones as if someone could hear what they were saying. It took everything in him to finally make himself leave her. But he knew he needed to start home or else he’d have more missed phone calls on his cell.

She pulled the sheets up over chest while she watched him pull his jeans on and search for the shirt of his she’d pulled on earlier in the night. The way his muscles moved under his clothes only made her want to pull them off again but she knew he had to leave. He had a life somewhere else and she had a son she was missing more than she realized at that moment.

“Last night was,” EZ paused, trying to think of the right word to us.

[superhoeva-archived]

𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the mayans head to the casino. gabriella struggles with everything that's going on.

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gabriella adéline carter, angel reyes, michael "riz" ariza, marcus alvarez, che "taza" romero, obispo "bishop" losa, johnny "coco" cruz, ezekiel "ez" reyes, miguel galindo, adam, hank "tranq" loza, gilberto "gilly" lopez, jimmy

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: as promised, here's the next chapter. very i'm excited about how the story is about to ramp up ;) (gif credit: @everyhowlmarksthedead)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): language, angst, drugs (mentioned), some fluff (finally)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

“Bishop wants to hit the road early. I guess Galindo invited the Chinese to our prison sit down.”

Gabriella shuffles uncomfortably at the news before turning to Angel with an apprehensive expression. Her heart dims a little when he looks away from her, his obvious disdain for the fact that she lied to him still fresh in his head. 

“Let them know the cartel will be able to deliver,” Gabriella assumes with a sad shrug of her shoulders, giving up on trying to get the older Reyes brother to look at her. Riz nods and goes to make his way into the clubhouse so he can change before they leave. 

Marcus, Taza, and Bishop trek down the stairs and away from the Clubhouse just as Coco breathes out, “that makes it easy.” 

“Hey, buy me a few minutes?” Angel wonders, Coco and Gabriella nodding immediately. “Gonna give Jimmy a call.”

Angel steps away from the group, pulling out his phone. Gabriella’s gaze locks onto him until there’s a soft nudge on her arm. She turns to find Marcus staring back at her. 

“Can I talk to you before we head out, mi’ja?” Gabbi swallows at the questions, but nods. She attempts to mask her worry with a small smile, telling him, “of course, Padrino.” 

Gabriella follows him back inside the clubhouse and into Templo quarters in complete silence. All she can think about is Benny and his son. And how upset Angel is with her. And how upset Ezekiel was yesterday. And the intrusive questions KJ found himself with the audacity to ask. And whatever Marcus is about to speak to her about. And Miguel. 

Gabriella barely managed to repress the shaking her body wants to take part in under the curious gaze of her godfather, instead allowing her hands to wring themselves behind her back. 

“You know I don’t like when you lie to me, right?”

The question has Gabriella’s hand squeezing tighter as gives him a small nod. 

“So if I ask you how you’re doing, you’re not gonna lie to me, right?”

Gabriella nods again and Marcus sighs. 

“Alright, then,” Marcus starts, “how are you doing?” 

It only takes a few short seconds for the tears to well in Gabriella’s eyes. Luckily, Marcus is already waiting with open arms. Gabriella falls into his chest with a broken sob, thankful for the way his arms create a protective barrier, at least for the moment, around her hurting soul. 

Marcus grips Gabriella tighter than he probably should, but he doesn’t care. He knows this is something he should’ve done after they left Galindo’s pew yesterday. No matter how she gets, he feels that it’s his responsibility to take care of her… and not just because of the promise he made her father.

Just as he promised, Gabriella rides with Riz in the van when the Mayans head to the San Bujo Casino. He decides against asking about her puffy eyes and occasional sniffle, instead attempting to cheer her up with purposefully bad singing along with the radio as they speed down the highway. 

By the time they make it to the casino, Gabriella’s eyes are only a little pink, stomach sore from all the laughter. Marcus notices immediately, sending a quick nod to Riz after he parks his bike. Riz nods back, pleased to know that he was an adequate distraction from whatever had her so upset. 

As they travel to the front doors of the facility, both of the Reyes brothers send desolate stares Gabbi’s way. Ezekiel, for feeling bad after not making an effort to really speak to the woman ever since he found out that she knew what would happen to Emily’s son. And Angel, who still wants to know why she wouldn’t tell him where she was last night. 

“My brown brothers,” a voice calls out as the group saunters through the front entrance.

Everyone looks up to see Adam, the owner of the casino, and two of his men ready to greet their visitors. 

Bishop smiles and holds out a hand. “Adam.”

Adam smiles, returning the grin and handshake. “Bishop.” The casino owner then goes to greet Taza with a cordial hug, before turning to Gabriella. “And the lovely Gabriella.”

“It’s good to see you again, Adam,” she smiles as the man presses a short kiss on her cheek. “How’s the family?”

Adam beams at the mention of his children, answering, “oh, they’re great. I’ll have to tell that you asked about them. Oh, and sorry about checking the weapons. It’s tribal law. Booze and bullets have not been a good combination for my people.”

“Our’s either,” Hank replies, pulling a small grin from Adam. 

“The other parties get down here yet?” Riz questions. 

Adam shakes his head. “Not that I know of. But we have the room you requested. It’s private. Very quiet.”

Alvarez nods assertively with a quick, “thank you.”

Adam gifts the Mayans with one last smile, before leaving to go take care of other pieces of business. Bishop turns around with a sigh. “Well, we’ve got a few hours to kill.”

“Me and the Boy Scout,” Coco starts immediately, we’re gonna win a little wampum.”

Ezekiel can only look at Coco before the sniper is dragging him to one of the tables, causing Bishop to turn to Angel, Gilly, and Gabbi.

“Keep him contained,” Bishop orders, earning nods from the three. As soon as they are away from the older Mayans, Angel turns to Gilly.

“We’ll catch up,” he tells Gilly, who nods and goes to follow Ezekiel and an exhilarated Coco. Gabriella then turns to Angel. With Gilly gone, it’s just the two of them, now. 

When she looks up at him, he’s already looking back at her. In his eyes, a hint of guilt.

“Look, Angel,” Gabriella sighs, “if you’re still mad at me, fine. But can we please just shove that aside for a moment and handle our business? This is important, and Jimmy won’t take if he sees that you can’t even look at me without–”

Gabriella pauses when Angel wraps his arms around her. Her eyes widen when he pulls her close. 

“I’m still mad,” he starts delicately, “but I missed talking to you. Like, a lot.” 

A small smile crosses Gabriella’s face, as she gives in and lets her arms clasp around his body. There’s an elongated silence before either of them speaks again. 

“We can talk it out later, okay? Let’s just get this over with so we can get home.” Angel nods before taking a step back. The two share a stare before turning to make their way to the side entrance they agreed to meet Jimmy. 

He’s already standing outside when Angel and Gabriella arrive, a cigarette working to keep him company. 

“How you been Jimmy?” Angel asks as he settles on the other side of Gabbi, lighting his own cigarette in the process. 

“Getting by,” Jimmy nods, peeking down at Gabbi, “what do you have?”

Gabbie sighs before telling him, “six keys.”

“Ninety-seven percent pure Guero heroin,” Angel continues for her. “Thirty per brick.”

A frown crosses Jimmy’s face and has to bite his lip to contain his irritation. “Thought you had nine.”

“So did I. But circumstances change, Jimmy.” Gabriella steps in. “So like I said before: six keys, thirty per brick. You don’t like that, I’ve got plenty of other buyers I dump you for––”

“Okay,” Jimmy calls out with his hand in the air. He takes a deep breath before asking both of them, “can you get it to Vegas?”

“You certain it stays outside the family?”

Jimmy takes a long drag of his cigarette before nodding. “Yep. You?”

A small laugh leaves Gabriella. “Would we be speaking out in the open like this if the answer was no?”

Now, it’s Jimmy’s turn to laugh.

“I’m in.”

Angel and Gabriella part from Jimmy swiftly with a quick, “okay,” not wanting to risk catching the eye of any of the other Mayans.  Jimmy watches them leave with a shake of his head, having to ignore when the smallest voice at the back of his mind wonders ‘What the hell am I doing?’

Back inside, Ezekiel sits begrudgingly in a seat a few feet from where Coco is playing Blackjack. The youngest Reyes brother has been there for song long that he almost forgets to scratch his chin when to alert Coco that he should call for another card. 

“Twenty-one,” the dealer calls out before flipping over a few more cards. “The house is over. The gentleman wins again.”

Ezekiel shakes his head at the smile on Coco’s face, a deep sigh leaving him when it’s apparent that Coco wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. 

Angel and Gabriella arrive at Gilly’s table just as Coco starts another round. 

“Jimmy?” Gilly questions, Angel responding with a nod. 

“All good. I’ll fill you in,” he replies while Gabriella looks over at Ezekiel with furrowed eyebrows. 

“He’s got him counting cards?” She asks, eyes going back and forth between a locked-in Coco and annoyed Ezekiel.

“Yup,” Gilly tells her and Angel lets out a scoffed laugh. 

He and Gabriella waltz over to where Ezekiel sits, Angel ordering his brother to “take a break.”

Ezekiel blows out a long breath, telling his brother, “thank you.” Before he walks away, he swallows and turns to Gabbi with a reddened face. Her breath nearly catches in her throat when she looks at Ezekiel and realizes he’s already staring. 

“Want a drink?” Gabriella questions, shoulders relaxing some when Ezekiel nods. 

“I’d love one.”

taglist (open): @rae-gar-targaryen @blackgirlglitter@shawty-fenty @alienstardust @lovelytricia @est1887 @afriicanhoe @bigchoose @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @rkil98 @youlovetkay @blowmymbackout @angrybirdxx @munteanumiss @cruzwalters @joannasteez @amorestevens @toni9 @proudlittlewitchbitch @taylorm1367 @savagemickey03 @melaninhawtie @relaxing-najee @goldxnbutterfly @mistermiraclee @cjricks98 @blackwriter48 @atomevee @khiraeth @blessedboo @bitchmystique

[mikeisthricedeceased]

Kinktober 2021: Day Five

Sixty-nine

EZ Reyes x OC

Word Count: 226

Warnings: Smut 18+, oral (m + f receiving)

~*~*~*~

Lori muttered a curse, pressing her forehead against EZ’s thigh and gripping the sheet in her fist. “You gotta slow down with that or this is gonna end a lot sooner than we planned,” she told him, near gasping.

There was a low chuckle from between her thighs. “So, I’m doing too well?” he asked, pressing a sticky wet kiss on her inner thigh.

She pinched his hip in retaliation. “Overachiever.”

EZ just grinned as he held her down against his mouth, cupping and kneading her ass.

Groaning, she couldn’t help but shift her hips, needing him to keep doing exactly what he’d been doing, despite her complaints. But she was still determined to even the score, wrapping a hand around his cock so that she could get back to the steady rhythm she’d been working on.

It earned a deep, rumbling hum from him. With renewed encouragement, she took him back in her mouth, working down as she continued stroking, tracing the thick vein along his shaft with her tongue.

He moaned and the slight buzz right against her pussy turned her thoughts into a haze.

She took his cock as deep as she could at that angle, hand sliding down to grope and massage his balls. A hot coil of satisfaction tightened in her belly when he panted out a curse of his own.

~*~*~*~

Kinktober 2021 by @the-purity-pen

~ Mike

[minimel-fics]

Mayans M.C Masterlist

Find my multi-fandom blog here.

Reyes Brothers

Nowhere to Go, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8- Angel had hurt you before so what was causing you a little more pain now to avoid a future of hurt? 

Obispo “Bishop” Losa

I Want You (18+)- You aren’t his to have but he sure wants you, you keep your thoughts about him buried until you go to bed at night.

Broken Bells- Annabelle’s life has been anything but easy. Just when she finds a sense of peace in the desert town she gets slammed back into a life full of conflict and men who ride motorcycles for more than just a little fun.

On Hiatus - May resume/ rework after final season airs?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,  Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (18+), Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18,

Neron “Creeper” Vargas

Unexpected Blessings, Part 2- An unexpected late night encounter brings out Creepers soft side and flips two unsuspecting worlds upside down.

Familial Persecution- Creeper loves you more than anything and sticks by your side while you deal with the death of your father but your family does not approve.

A True Gem- Everyone thinks you’re eccentric but Creeper embraces your quirks. 

Inked (18+)- There’s a mutual attraction but the admiration for your tattoo’s is what brings you together.

Marshmallow Dreams- What happens when you mix a Cali boy and wintery New York? The risk of frostbite and hot cocoa with too many marshmallows.

Parental Guidance- A daughter’s first date is a father's worst nightmare.

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes

Coffee Connections- It is an unspoken rule to never be late for the first date. 

Getting Old (18+)- While a back injury causes you to have an existential crisis, Ez has other plans for you.

The Way We Get By, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5- Working at Vicki’s was just a way to put yourself through law school and keep food on your table. (18+)

People Watching- If he is the one to interrupt your peace while hiding away from the party downstairs then you’re okay with that.

 Johnny “Coco” Cruz

Second Chances, Part 2- He had always dismissed his family because of the poison that ran through their veins until Letty showed him that it didn’t have to be that way, now he just wants to make things right.

Asshole- No matter what you do, you’re always the bad guy.

Hank “Tranq” Loza

Moral of the Story, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4- Their marriage took a turn for the worst, but they made a vow that neither of them had the heart to break. 

Loss of a Brother- Lucille had never imagined the day she would lose her baby brother, nor would she imagine Hank being the one there to pick her back up.

Che “Taza” Romero

Summer Break- You couldn’t get through to your son but Taza has dad powers.