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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months

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Lost & Found - A Guero (Mayans MC)/OC Story.

Okay, okay! I cave to the demand and the excitement I have warmly received from you all. Here you go, darlings. First chapter is here. I can’t promise I will be posting the second next week just in case I want to do ANOTHER deep dive into the editing, but since I am just over halfway through writing it now, I thought I would at least post the first.

Story is somewhat canon, with a few changes here and there to suit my artistic vision... i.e. I kicked canon in the ass and told her to go home, hahaha! Oh, I also gave Guero a surname, too! I tried to keep him as true to who we see on screen, but obviously since we didn’t get him for long, some of his characterisations are of my creation. Don’t like it? Don’t read. Simple as that.

Nervously and excitedly awaiting your feedback, eeek! :)

Words - 3,834

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

Unknown numbers. Ezekiel Reyes often received more than he wished to endure upon the burner phone he used for club business. Regularly they were legitimate, but occasionally telemarketers, such annoyances he simply hung up on instantly. While walking from his trailer to the clubhouse, he expected the call coming in to be that of nuisance, 11am seemingly the call centre worker bee’s peak time to bother him about his long-distance courier needs, or savings on his energy bills.

It was no telemarketer, but he almost disconnected the call all the same in sheer disbelief.

“Ezekiel Reyes?”

“Who wants to know?” His journey across the yard was undisturbed, watching as Bottles and Nestor took in an alcohol delivery, a nearby Guero and Downer giving them the usual offering of shit talk.

“Rocco Lombardi.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. The Rocco Lombardi was reaching out to him? Nah.

“This your idea of a joke?”

He heard a deep chuckle filter down the line. “I’m more of a knock knock, who’s there kinda fella.” Remaining paused, he thought whoever it was had at least nailed the thick, New Jersey accent. He had to give them props for that, he guessed. “Listen, you got FaceTime, I take it?”

“I do, but...” The line cut dead. Five seconds later and sure enough, a FaceTime call came in. EZ nearly fell over when there on the screen, appeared the face of the big boss, the notorious and famed king of the mafia. There he was; the head of the biggest, most powerful crime family on earth. Rocco Lombardi.

“That better?”

He raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, the confirmation is appreciated.”

“Good. Now not for nothin’, but I can’t fuckin’ stand video calls, encrypted or not. I’ll call you back.” Once again, the call disconnected, the cell ringing after a few moments. All the while EZ could feel his ego swelling, realising truly how far he’d come in his leadership that he was being sought out by someone of such standing within the criminal underworld. He was nothing short of surprised when he eventually found out why, though.

He’d always believed that the code of La Cosa Nostra forbade their operations to extend into the realms of drug trafficking. To be specific, he’d assumed it stemmed from reasons of mortality, perhaps a skewed sense of Catholic guilt, when in fact, the commoner explanation was far simpler.

The prospect of a lengthier prison sentence, of course, increased the propensity of their members turning upon the organisation, becoming government informants in order to secure a more lenient custodial term. When the federal carrot is dangled before a desperate man, one looking at forty years when his assistance could mean all he ends up serving is ten to fifteen, tongues tend to be loosened.

Rats out themselves, major players are taken off the streets and ultimately, the government wins. It would be very reasonable to assume that the code is in place for this very reason, to prevent such catastrophic damage within their organisation and family infrastructure. The risk is not worth the payout. Or rather, it is bendable to the point of unrecognition when those doing said bending can earn a substantial profit.

Enter Rocco Lombardi and his proposition.

“I think we could mutually benefit from the blending of your organisation with mine, Mr Reyes.” Lombardi was intelligent enough to be concise, even when speaking upon the relative safety of a burner phone. He hadn’t gotten to the top because he was sloppy. Lombardi had sat at the very head of the hierarchy for years, after all. He was hailed as the boss of all bosses for a reason.

They’d once given John Gotti the monicker of Teflon Don, because nothing ever stuck to him in the way of evidence to bring about charges. That was until his own underboss has turned on him, the evidence given at trial by Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano leading to his incarceration. Truly, if there was one overlord within the organised crime world who lacked cohesion, it was the man who ruled the Romano crime family with an iron fist.

EZ Reyes had launched into thoroughly researching Lombardi after his reaching out to him, learning the ins and out of his character, how much of a slippery customer he was, how – and it went without saying – he would use people as pawns to further his own reach and agenda. It went without saying because it was the way of his own world, too. Within his MC, he went about the very same, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Rocco Lombardi’s reach was, to put it simply, enormous. EZ and his VP would be lying if they’d have claimed that bearing such in mind, it hadn’t piqued their curiosity over what on earth he could want with a Californian based MC. For all intents and purposes, the man had his operations not merely sewn up tightly, but steel reinforced.

“All I know is we gotta play it carefully, mano,” Bishop had sagely advised prior to their leaving Santo Padre to for a face to face with the mafioso legend, Rocco insisting that a larger MC presence not assemble in the interests of it remaining nothing short of clandestine. “Our worlds might be similar, but the mafia play by an entirely different set of rules. I ain’t saying you’re not smart enough to outsmart the guy, but he’s the kind who will have thought three moves ahead before we’ve even stepped foot into that hotel suite.”

EZ had sipped his beer, narrowed eyes unmoving as he’d absorbed the words of the former president with all the credence they deserved. Bishop had, after all, been approached by the mafia before. His reasons for turning down an offer from a different crime family had been solid in their validity, and EZ knew he would be a fool to let this warning go unheeded. Especially since the club were on their knees where their drug trade was concerned. He also knew that somehow, Rocco likely knew this, too.

The mafia tended to have ears in the very last places one might expect them to extend. He also knew that they preferred to keep their operations within the Italian American brotherhood if they could at all help it, so the need for an alliance was somewhat even in its beneficial mutuality.

“I guess we just have to wait and see what this sit down entails.” Truly, it was all they could do.

The time passed quickly between then and the two of them riding through the strip, both separately feeling the mist of apprehension gather, until they were parking up at the hotel and casino they were scheduled to meet Lombardi at, their demeanours switching to cool composure before they’d even entered the building.

The two men dressed in denim, flannel and leather looked out of place as they strode across the foyer of the MGM Grand, the buzz and tacky decadence of Las Vegas swirling all around them. Gamblers bet it all, slot machines flashed in frenzy while spitting out endless streams of coins, and alcohol flowed without restriction, certainly enough to keep it so the house always won.

Would it be their own win he was sealing, EZ thought while waiting for the elevator, or was this the biggest and most uncertain gamble the club were about to make to date? He guessed the next few hours would tell, whether or not he was about to be presented with a winning hand.

The ding of the elevator roused him, both stepping inside, Bishop pressing the button for the tenth floor. EZ stared straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator doors, noting the haunted veil that hung over his features. Shadowy eyes and skin bearing many more lines than a man in his mid-thirties should do were now his staple in appearance, a few further flecks of grey in his hair also.

Ezekiel Reyes was a man barely holding it together, but his demeanour did not give away the tumult that gnawed at his guts and yanked at his nerves, even if it had seemed to age him five years in just over seven months. His control was as unquestionable as it was unshakable, even in the dark times his club was currently under the duress of. He would never, ever let the toll it was taking upon him show.

He was in Vegas, after all. Home of the poker face.

The man at his side, though? He saw through the veil. He knew. In the interests of helping him glue back together the smashed fragments of the MC, he chose to keep his observances to himself. When he’d reigned supreme, if someone had pointed out his weak points, he would have shown no magnanimity in return. He knew better than to antagonise. Bishop Losa was nothing if not tactile these days, with how much delicacy teetered upon a knife’s edge, how much was at stake.

The elevator shunted to a stop, the doors gliding open, the men exchanging a look and a nod before they exited, walking in step down the long hallway. Coming to a stop in front of room eight one five, EZ reached to knock, his arm suddenly grasped, preventing the rap of knuckles upon the sleek, white enamel.

“Whatever goes down in there, I got you.” Bishop’s words were delivered with a solemn nod, EZ returning it before knocking the door. They stood tall as they waited, unflinching, rock-like in their demeanour, the door opening to reveal a slight yet menacing looking man in an expensive suit. He eyed up the two men standing before him, his lips pursing slightly as he stood back to allow their entrance.

“Guns on the table.”

EZ’s brow knitted. “The fuck?”

“You heard me, stronzo. Guns. On. The. Table.”

Neither man took well to his condescending delivery, both irked at the display of what they considered to be one hell of a chip upon his shoulder. EZ was just about to offer his retort when a voice came from further within the suite.

“Stop playing rottweiler and let my guests in, Mario. If we’re armed, so can they be, too.” Immediately, he stood aside at the instruction of his boss, a large, dark-haired man rising from his seat at the dining table, two armed men stationed in opposing corners of the suite. “My apologies. This one here, he can be a hot head, y’know?”

Although seemingly personable right off the bat, there was an aura surrounding Rocco Lombardi that virtually crackled with menace. His ‘thou shalt not fuck with me’ demeanour was beyond palpable. “Take a seat, fellas. Can I offer either of youse a drink?”

EZ’s eyes flitted around the room, taking in every detail. He stored it all on the internal hard drive that was his brain, his guard up as naturally it should have been. “No, thank you.”

Rocco took the rebuff in his stride, gesturing to the chairs opposite as he sat again. “A man who likes to get straight down to business. I can appreciate that.” Down to business was exactly how it went, no pleasantries, no idle chatter. Rocco cut right to the chase.

“My proposition is simple, Ezekiel. My current methods in transportation of product are, shall we say, attracting more attention than myself and my associates are comfortable with, y’know? I need to implement a one stop solution. I also need a far more financially viable method of my product crossing the border from Mexico than I’m currently paying through the fucking nose for.”

Bribes. Of course, Lombardi meant bribing the border control, an exercise EZ knew likely cost fortunes, cutting into a profit margin the mafia were probably tired of having bites taken out of. “This is where the MC comes in, youse and your tunnel.” EZ’s eyebrow twitched, just a fraction, Rocco smirking at the tell.

“Yeah, I know all about it. Ain’t many places my ears don’t have reach. I want that tunnel as a new channel to move my product across the border, which then will be transferred to the Port of San Diego, to a designated shipping container the day it ports. You unload into the container, minus your personal cut that will ensure you keep the monopoly on supply within the Californian correctional facilities, and you also get a nice little monetary injection for you and your boys on a monthly basis. How’s that sound?”

EZ took a moment to ponder, his fingers knitting before him on the table, arm muscles flexing as he shared a sideways glance with Bishop. “Sounds like there’s a catch.”

Rocco smirked, taking a long puff on his cigar, his eyes twinkling through the thick plumes of smoke as he leaned back in his chair. “You move two tons at a time. That is non-negotiable.”

Two fucking tons every month. Holy mother of god. Before they’d even entered that room, they of course knew the reach of the Romano crime family, that it was extensive. Worldwide, even. Two tons of heroin every four weeks truly hammered home just how far Lombardi’s tentacles reached within the criminal underworld. The risks associated with that were unfathomable, EZ lifting his chin, his poker face firmly set once more. “I’m gonna need to see a number, the nice little monetary injection you speak of.”

Rocco reached into the pocket of his suit, removing a pen, taking a napkin from the table before him and scribing a number upon it, sliding it across the polished wood. Upon viewing it, EZ’s well trained blank façade slid south quickly, showing it to Bishop.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

His quiet exclamation was no understatement over the amount of zero’s scrawled upon the napkin.

“I assume you know of our current difficulties with the LNG?”

The tall man nodded. “Quite a fucking pasticcio youse have gotten yourself into, eh?” His smile widened suddenly, slowly drawing his thumb and forefinger from the corners of his mouth down to the centre of his lip. “If you do the first shipment for free, I can take care of that, as well as your issues with the knuckleheaded, heavy arms wielding fuck heads you got yourselves caught up in, too.” He hissed a breath over his teeth, shaking his head. “Fentanyl, gentleman. What a risky business that is.”

What in the fuck didn’t this man know about their operations? EZ was all but surprised that Rocco wasn’t clued in on the colour of his underwear by that point, the man seemingly well informed, his intel even extending to knowing about their deal with Cole.

He rose to his feet, jerking his head towards the balcony. “If you could give myself and my VP a moment?”

Rocco made a passive motion with his hand, nodding. “Sure, take your time.”

They strode across the suite, wallet chains rattling and leather creaking the only sounds to permeate the silence of the room, EZ sliding the glass door open. The warm Vegas air hit him, his eyes narrowing as he looked out over the luminosity of the strip, thousands upon thousands of lights twinkling. They glittered a promise of wealth and prosperity hinged upon a gamble, which was exactly what Rocco Lombardi was offering up to them.

“You have to back me on this when we take it to the table. The risk is massive, and I appreciate that, but this? This is our way out of it all. Our way out and our ladder to climb back to the top.”

Bishop considered the words of his president as he pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one up. A massive risk; fuck, that was putting it lightly. It was a fool’s errand, in short, transporting such a colossal consignment of heroin. The pay off, though? If they could execute each run flawlessly, it would be beyond worth it. Santo Padre would be back on top, and the Mayans kings of California.

He wanted with everything he had to back EZ, but something persistent tugged at him deep in his guts. The old adage ‘too good to be true’ echoed through his mind. There had to be another catch. For all appearances, said catch appeared to be the two tons of narcotics, the kind of consignment that would mean the MC would never see the outside of a prison for the remainder of their lives, should they be caught moving it. However, he felt there was another shoe yet to drop from Lombardi’s perspective.

Conflict rose in him like an unpleasant tempest, knowing that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Take the deal and shoulder an enormous risk or walk away from it and try to seek a way out of their mess alone. Being in the pocket of the mafia was a dangerous location, he knew that; they both knew that. In this instance, no matter how much trepidation he felt, he had to concede that Lombari’s offer was very much the lesser of two evils.

Still, it didn’t prevent him voicing the concern. “I feel like there’s something extra he’s gonna have us on the hook for further down the road.” Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he turned to his president, brows furrowed, his head shaking softly. “I wanna back you, but I don’t trust him.”

Neither did EZ, if he was honest. “We don’t need to trust him. We need to make ourselves indispensable to him. The weight of his organisation has the power to break us completely, and I’d be an idiot if I didn’t see that, Bish. We gotta remember that he’s coming to us because he needs this symbiosis too. If he had any other plan to move his product, he’d have exacted it by now. What he’s offering us in payment solidifies that. He needs to lock the MC down.”

He took a breath, his eyes once again focusing on the lights below. “And our backs are against the kind of wall we can’t break alone. Rocco Lombardi can not only break that wall, he can obliterate it completely. We can’t refuse.”

Upon their return to Santo Padre, an immediate templo was called, the proposition repeated, a vote cast. It was, just as EZ had anticipated, a unanimous yes. Hell, it wasn’t like any of the men assembled around the table hadn’t known that extreme danger was exactly what he was signing up for, and this was about a risky as it got.

Moving heroin two tons at a time for the mafia was the height of hazardous endeavours, but the payoff would elicit the kind of money and power they had been striving for. Sure, they were still ultimately under someone else’s thumb, but in the world of the MC, Santo Padre rose like the phoenix from the proverbial ashes. If they were careful and exercised caution, they would remain risen, too.

The operation was undertaken with military precision. The two tons of heroin were moved through the tunnels from one side of the border to the other, then stowed away down there for a day before the Mayans arrived, loading one ton into each van. The vehicles both then hit the road, two members within, two members upon motorcycles escorting at the front and rear, and EZ leading the way.

They drove far enough apart not to attract the attention that such a closely assembled convoy likely would, with EZ a quarter of a mile in front, so he could warn of any upcoming complications that might lead to said convoy needing to peel off the freeway. Since the run was done at 2am, the risk of such was minimised greatly, yet still they always prepared for the worst-case scenario. This is why two vans were utilized, when all it truly took was one. If one broke down, then there they were, stuck with a life sentence cargo on the side of the freeway, rather than another means to continue their journey.

Arriving at the port, EZ gave the usual nod to the guard, a guard whose pockets had been nicely lined with mafia cash, who would duly send another of his team down to the container as soon as the Mayans left, standing guard until the cargo was loaded onto a vessel bound either for New York or the far east the following morning. Yes, the tentacles of Rocco Lombardi even reached over to the Yakuza, the Japanese criminal organisation taking two tons of product off his hands on a bi-monthly basis.

The shipment they were about to offload on that particular night was heading straight back to New York, the guys all assembling, the usual banter firing back and forth.

Downer, of course, was at the epicentre of it. “Hey, I thought there was meant to be whores on the dockside? That’s a thing, ain’t it? We’ve been here four times before now and no damned pussy anywhere.”

Angel lit a cigarette, raising his eyebrows. “Man, where the fuck you get that from?”

“He’s right,” Hank chimed in, “but about a couple hundred years out of date. Hookers used to frequent the docks back in the eighteen, nineteen hundreds. Gave lots of navy men who’d been at sea for months at a time a rampant case of the syph.”

Guero couldn’t help himself. “Eighteen hundreds. Back in your youth, huh bro?” He was shot a look of pure distain from Downer, his chirp continuing. “I bet you’d like the crotch rot. You’re a sick enough individual to probably be into it.”

“It’s his kink. Itchy balls and a putrid cock, man,” Bottles interjected with, earning a snort laugh from Guero and an incredulous stare from Downer.

Aggressively delivered middle fingers were raised. “Fuck you and fuck you even fuckin’ harder!”

Bottles grinned at the rise he’d gotten. “You wish.”

“You’re getting way too smart with that fuckin’ yap of yours, prospect,” he snorted, pointing at Guero. “Been spending too much time with him and his big mouth.”

The man himself beamed, pulling his hood up. “What can I say?” He held his arms in wide expression, his smirk growing. “I’m infectious. Like your cock, just way less scabby.” He received a boot in the ass as he turned, heading straight over to the yellow container and hauling the levers to open it. What he expected to see within were the usual lines of packing cases into which they would load their cargo, with a specially marked one housing their cash.

The last thing he expected to see was the body of a dishevelled looking blonde girl with a gash upon her head, lying there out cold, and the marked case notably empty of its usual stack of bills.

“Uh, guys?” he called, appearing back around the container door as his brothers were carrying cargo across from the vans. “We got a situation in here.”

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zaenight · 9 months

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Crazy but she's mine ch21🖤

Jackie groaned its been a month since the events of that night , The mayans & Sons had to hold another meeting , however it was gonna be held during a club party honoring Creepers release .

Jackie had one month left before baby reyes was born , Ez and illiana had built the crib , the nursery being on the other half of their room.

Illiana was excited to be a big sister , Ez and Jackie had decided to wait untill the baby was born to learn the gender.

Ez's hands were around Jackie's waist trailing downwards.

"Nice try , we gotta go." Jackie said as Ez kissed her neck.

"Te amo querida." Ez said as Jackie laughed , The two walked out of the room , Illiana had been picked up by letty and hope who were heading to the party after getting their nails done.

"I love you too Ezekiel." Jackie said as His hands rested on her stomach.

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"LITTLE CJ!" yelled tig .

"Hey alex!" Jackie yelled to tig , who was next to Chibs,happy,t.o, and ratboy, Quin ended up being sick , and stayed home.

"Finally , the hell took you so long bro!" Angel yelled , arm around Luisa , who was holding a babbling maverick.

"Your brother couldn't keep his hands to himself." Jackie smirked.

"Mierda , what are you tryna do knock her up even more." Angel said as Ez smirked.

"Shut it!" Jackie laughed , while saying hello to tig and the others.

It wasn't untill A black limo drove into the scapyard that everyone was off put.

Miguel and Emily Galindo stepped out of the limo , arm in arm.

"What the hell?" Ez said arm around Jackie , As Illiana came out of the clubhouse , Ez holding an arm out so she wouldn't ram into the two who were walking up.

Illiana stared at the man who looked similar too her adoptive father , and the woman who watched her with a careful eye , Noticing how Ez had his arm wrapped around the now pregnant woman and the protective arm around the teenager.

"Ezekiel." Emily said with soft eyes , and with a glance towards Jackie's pregnant stomach.

"Emily , this is my old lady Jackie , and our daughter Illiana." Ez stated proudly , barely glancing in the woman's direction.

"Daughter?" She questioned , not seeing any resemblance between the three , and the fact the child would have been around 13 during the time Ez got released from prison , and there was no mention of her, nor mentions of the woman besides him.

"Adopted , biologically im Bishop's , but I came to santo padre with Jackie , and They adopted me together , so basically , Im the reason they got together , because without me , Jackie would have never came here." Illiana said , emily had a small smile , but Jackie noticed the grimance in the her eyes.

"Is there somthing you need?" Ez asked the man , who had just got back from saying hello to Nestor.

"I have a few words to share with Camila , alone." Miguel said , as Jackie clenched her Jaw.

Emily stared confused wondering what he was talking about.

"It's Jackie to you , Ezekiel is the only one allowed to call me Camila , and whatever you have to say , you can say it here and now." Jackie stated , Ezekiel told Illiana to go inside , nodding towards Gurero and Downer to be ready to shoot if necessary.

The sons watched curious , what does a cartel boss want with a Club president's pregnant old ladie.

"I have a propersition for you." He stated.

"I don't think the meetings gonna happen any time soon." Ratboy said as T.o gave him a "you think look".

"Tha' Lass looks angry." Chibs stated as Happy nodded.

"That's the look of murder , Im getting hard just thinking about the blood." Tig said as The sons , and the mayans around him stared disgusted.

"What proposition?" Jackie wondered , Emily stared at miguel , wondering whats going on.

"Leave Ezekiel and the club , come with me and you could have more than you could ever dream of." He said leaving everyone around them shocked.

Untill Jackie let out the loudest laugh.

"Me- Leave with you? -You , don't make me laugh, You have a beatiful wife and last I heard a child , Beside's You can't handle me , and you sure as hell can't fufill my... Sexual needs." Jackie said with a laugh , her tone high pitched and playful.

Ez was furious , Jackie couldn't believe his audacity , Emily was Hurt and confused , and Miguel had a glare as he opened his damn mouth.

"A tu mujer se le debe enseñar a obedecer y mantener la boca cerrada antes de que se meta en problemas." Miguel stated with a glare , Emily let out a gasp as the others watched.

(Your woman should be taught to obey and keep her mouth shut before it gets her in trouble)

Ez was furious , he launched forward , his fist landing a punch in the face of the cartel boss.

As Miguel launched his own punch , it was too late , as Jackie wacked the side of his face with Ez's gun , Miguel could fight But together Ez and Jackie calculated their moves , not having to speak a word.

The Mayans and even the Sons had their guns pointed at Miguel's henchmen.

"I swear to God if you pull that trigger I'll fucking kill you Motherfucker." Angel said pointing his gun towards one of Miguel's men , who's gun was pointed at Jackie's stomach.

"We jus' wanted a meetin' and to drink fuckin' beer , Yet we come ta this fuckin' mess!" Chibs Exclaimed.

"Im so turned on right now!" Tig exclaimed as Angel cursed him out.

"NOT NOW ALEX!" Jackie exclaimed pointing the gun at Miguel.

"Si alguna vez vuelves a hablar así de mi chica, te mataré, me importa un carajo si eres un jefe del cartel." Ez Stated with a glare , boot on Miguel's chest , arm around Jackie.

(If you ever speak about my girl like that again , I'll fucking kill you , I don't give a fuck if your a Cartel boss)

"The only one who should keep their damn mouth shut is you , Also to make myself clear." Jackie said trailing off , Pointing the gun at The henchman who pointed a gun to her stomach , Pulling the trigger , a headshot , as she stared Miguel straight in the eye.

Luckily there was construction work going on so the shot wouldn't have been heard.

"Don't threaten me or my fucking kids , and I'll open my mouth as much as I want , It's my best quality ... in both ways." Jackie smirked .

"Get the hell out of here , Your not welcome , Soledad and The mayans already spoke , she says you need to be thrown out , but if you stay away from the club and my girls , you'll still be part of the trade." Ez said with a glare.

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The man left furious , Emily apologized as She left , Wondering what would've happened to her , if Jackie had said yes.

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As the templo opened Jackie sat up from the couch , slightly , to not wake Illiana , who fell asleep on her lap.

"Everything good?" She whispered.

"Perfect , Samcro is apart of the trade." Ez said as Jackie kissed his cheek , Music blared , as The men laughed and cheered.

"Good , Now give me your hand." She said as He handed her his hand , knuckles were bruised and bloodied.

"You know you didn't have to make Bottles clean up the body right?" Jackie said as her hands traced his hand.

"He's a prospect it's what they do , beside's he had help from samcro's prospect and Nestor." Ez said , watching as Creeper jumped on the bar swinging his shirt around.

"You know he's about to stage dive right?" Jackie said as Ez groaned , kissing her , and rushing towards the bar , along with Angel and Gilly who tried to catch him.

And by tried , it means he landed on Angel's face, let's just say angel almost got a mouthful of di-

Angel cursed as he pushed him off , blabbering and wiping his tongue , Luisa sat By Jackie with a now awake Illiana , And a sleeping maverick , the three laughing.

Letty and Hope were spinning in circle's , yeah they were drunk as hell.

And let's just say Ez had to deal with his drunk Brothers , Specifically a drunk Creeper , who tried pissing off the bar , landing on an unaware Downer , who got laughed at by gurero.

"Jesus fucking christ." Ez murmered as Jackie's hand trailed down his abbdomen , and suddenly he felt much better , as soon as he deals with the drunk idiots , the sooner he can give his girl the time of his life.

"Ay Tiggy Don' drink that , tha bald one pissed in tha' glass!" Chibs exclaimed.

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just-some-fiction · 2 years

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Snippet from Manny Mayans x Lucia Canon divergent

"You know," he traced a pattern against her shoulder, as they laid on the bed. His voice broke through the silence and darkness. It was the first night where he could lay with her against him and his healing burns didn't sting. Lucia had a leg thrown over his and her head tucked under his chin.

"When that mother fucker was dousing me with gasoline," he felt her tense up, "I saw Bella finishing school and college, fighting with you as a teenager, I saw her living her life."

Lucia remained silent, her hands twisted into his shirt, "Saw you move on," he chuckled, "find happiness again," Manny shifted slightly, wincing as he did so, "and all I felt was relief that it was me and not the two of you in my place."

As the flames got closer to him, he was at peace for a split second. Knowing that his family was safe, it didn't matter what that piece of shit said. His daughter would grow up, live a good life and make something of her herself. Just as the flames came towards him he let out a sigh, before the sound of gunshots reached his ears and he rolled out of the way instinctively. He wasnt quick enough though, the flames catching his lower half. but he managed to protect the his head and front. It helped that Ortero smothered him with sand as chaos and bullets erupted around them. That deranged fuck got away in the chaos, while they got him to safety.

He saw flashes of Bella in a white dress, getting married, Lucia finding someone again, the both of them moving on and finding happiness. Finding something he couldn't always give them. It hurt but it made him happy too.

There in the darkness he told her all of this.

"It was hell," she whispered, her head resting on his chest, ear against his heart. When Ortero came that night, she immediately knew something was wrong. When he stepped aside and she saw her father, her worst fear was confirmed. She had to hold it in, hold in the damn, hold in the rage as she held her daughter. Her baby cried for her father, demanded they bring him back.

For almost a month, they were made to believe he was dead, burnt alive. She remembered slapping Ortero, asking him what the fuck he did as they burned her husband. Why was her husband targeted but he the president was sparred. Why the fuck did some random nomad come after them when the deranged fucker had beef with Santo Padre. She remembered her father and Downer pulling her back as she laid into him.

A month later, when her father visited her and Manny walked in next to him, her reaction surprised bo one.

Flashback

She was in a daze, washing dishes, having just come home from work. Bella was in her room, most probably looking at pictures of Manny. Her father was coming for supper tonight. The retired cartel boss wanted to live with her for a bit, help her out but she insisted she had to get through this her own way.

There were times though, where it seemed as if her father was hiding something, but then when asked, Carlos Sr would just brush it off.

The opening of the front door got her attention. Expecting to see her father holding a new present for his grandchild, she dropped the plate at the sight of her dead husband, standing next to her father who was holding an obnoxiouslyarge gift.

Manny walked towards her and she immediately noticed the limp and stiffness in his neck. Without warning, she brought the palm of her hand down against his cheek. A split second layer she and her daughter were sobbing as they held onto him.

End of Flashback

"I'm here baby," he whispered, "a bit charred at the back but still here."

"That's not funny," she sat up and switched on the bedside light, "you're my fucking world Manuel, you and Bella," her eyes bore into his, "just like I'm yours," her voice cracked, "if you're not allowed to lose me I ain't allowed to lose you either."

He sat up, cupping her jaw, "Definitely not gonna lose you over Santo Padres bitch ass drama," she huffed, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.

They heard what went down through the grapevine. It was only Yuma who knew he was still alive and now with the information reaching them that EZ Reyes went off the deep end, it was going to stay like that for a while.

Lucia held onto him, needing to feel him, to reassure herself that this wasn't a dream. That she'd wake up and find the bed empty and her husband's charred Kutte. The next morning when she woke up, the dread simmered away when she found him laying beside her, with a protect hand resting on her still flat belly.

He couldn't leave them just yet.

#manny mayans #rio good girls #mayans mc #lucia solano #manny montana #Mayans mc spoilers #Canon divergent

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fathersonholygore · 9 months

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Mayans M.C. 5x08: "Her Blacks Crackle & Drag"

Mayans M.C. 5×08: “Her Blacks Crackle and Drag” Directed by Brett Dos Santos Written by Sean Varela & Vincent Vargas * For a recap & review of 5×07, click here. * For a recap & review of 5×09, click here. “Should’ve California” opens this episode, as Guero and Downer go dump the corpses of Diaz and Jinx. The next morning, EZ’s in the scrapyard doing one of those macho ice baths all the dude bros…

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#Broken Saints #Edward James Olmos #Explosion #Gay Character #Grim Bastards #Mayans M.C.#Should&039;ve California #Sons of Anarchy #Taza

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sab201030 · 2 years

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"If I had a time machine I'd give an medieval child a 4loko"

Okay bro but me and my new mayan best friends are gonna play what will one day become basketball and soccer then im gonna show them cupcakes. Have fun being a Debby downer tho.

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

Note

I’ll be sleeping on the left side of the bed

For Downer!

You always sleep on the left side of the bed. It doesn’t matter if you’re at home, at Downer’s place or on the road you always manage to gravitate there. Over time he comes to think of it as your space, the one you occupy in his life.

It’s when he finds himself clearing out the nightstand on your side that he realises that things are starting to get serious. You end up staying at his place most nights and he has no problem with that. He wants to make it permeant but you, you aren’t ready.

Downer’s been committed right from the start but you, you’ve always been a little skittish. He understands your trepidation. El Padrino had shattered your heart into a million pieces when he’d ended your relationship. The other man had promised you the world and then he’d obliterated your trust by telling you he didn’t love you, that you were just another girl he fucked on his way through Yuma.

It had shattered your self-worth; you’d spent months trying to piece yourself back together after that. Downer refuses to put any pressure on you, he’s happy to move at your pace.

He doesn’t say anything when you start storing some of your clothing in his closet, or when your underwear appears in his chest of drawers. He takes it as a sign that you’re committing in your own way.

It’s in the early hours of the morning that it happens, the two of you are tangled up in bed together. His hands are in your hair as he kisses you, the way you’re meant to be kissed because you’re the most precious thing in the world to him and he’s determined to show it.

“I love you.” You whisper, your fingertips tracing over the tattoos that are inked into his skin.

“I love you too, mi alma.” He smiles as his thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek. “I’m yours from now until the end of time.”

@kmc1989

#downer mayans #downer x reader #downer x you #mayans mc

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nightmare-afton-cosplay · 5 years

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Wish You Lived in a ‘Game of Thrones’-Style Castle? Buy One Right Here

realtor.com

“Game of Thrones” fans are frothing at the mouth as they await the eighth—and final—season, which premieres Sunday on HBO. Will Daenerys Targaryen, aka Mother of Dragons, finally reclaim the Iron Throne with the help of Jon Snow? Or will Cersei Lannister maintain her claw hold on this seat of power by outconniving them all? And what’s the deal with that ice zombie dragon?

While many will tune in to watch the drama unfold, we here at realtor.com felt we should shift the spotlight for a moment and applaud a whole different cast of stars: the stunning homes where the warring royals live.

If you’ve ever opined “man, I wish I could live in a castle,” we’d like to point out that it’s entirely possible! Castles exist right here on U.S. soil, and while they might not be quite as majestic (or blood-drenched, thankfully) as Casterly Rock or the Red Keep, they’re still pretty darn posh.

So in honor of the greatest TV show of all time, we’ve plundered our listings to come up with the real-life regal residences you can actually buy—or fight for if that’s your thing.

Hold the door!

3716 North White Chapel Boulevard, Southlake, TX

Price: Concierge Auction bid starting at $2.5 million

Why it gets our seven blessings: Have a taste for turrets? The storybook facade of this 2007-built castle should suit anyone with royal aspirations, as it blends old-world enchantment with modern luxury. Previously listed at $3.5 million, this 19,673-square-foot manse with eight bedrooms and 12 baths will accommodate the entire extended family and a coterie of courtiers. Perhaps a good place to host a wedding? Not of the red variety, of course.

An American castle in the Dallas–Fort Worth area

realtor.com

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33300 Highway 157, Menlo, GA 30731

Price: $999,998

Why it gets our seven blessings: This castle may not be complete yet, but it comes with its own kingdom—242.5 acres, to be exact. And at just under a $1 million, it hardly costs a king’s ransom. Located on wooded land on the East Fork of the Little River, the property is also host to a spring-fed lake and waterfall. The castle itself was designed with 30 bedrooms,15 baths, and a dungeon (time to go dragon shopping). There’s also plenty of space for a grand ballroom, wedding chapel, banquet hall, and just about anything else your subjects could desire.

Massive, unfinished Georgia castle

realtor.com

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722 39th St, Downers Grove, IL

Price: $1,800,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: Fit for a king and queen, this medieval castle–style home with a private gated entrance was built in 1952, but its interior has been updated to include every amenity to please even the pickiest members of the royal family: an indoor pool, grand gala accommodations for more than 60 people, and impeccably landscaped, 1.87-acre grounds. All this, and it’s appraised for over $2.6 million. Talk about a royal flush!

Modern American castle in Illinois

realtor.com

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4720 Grosvenor Ave, Bronx, NY

Price: $3,200,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: You could be the king (or queen) of New York in this fully renovated replica of a 16th-century European castle, complete with thick walls of imported stone and a regal turret. It was built in the mid-1920s for an Italian shipbuilder to remind him of home. Even though it looks like it’s been standing for centuries, it features air conditioning, a Bose sound system, four flat-screen, HD televisions, and new lighting. Which “Game of Thrones” family would be such early tech adopters? Our money’s on the Lannisters. (And best of all, they always pay their debts.)

A castle in the Bronx

realtor.com

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1023 Lake of the Woods Ln, Bigfork, MT

Price: $1,550,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: Talk about the Many-Faced Home! Mayan meets medieval in Montana! Known far and wide as the Castle on the Lake, this four-bedroom, four-bath home even has a faux drawbridge, and comes with over 15 acres—some of them lakefront. You’d never guess it was built as recently as 1998, with its two-story stone fireplace, secret passageways, and reclaimed wood beams overhead. While it appears to be in the middle of an enchanted forest, it’s actually not far from Kalispell, Glacier National Park, and the quaint resort town of Big Fork.

A castle in Montana

realtor.com

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125 Sky Castle Dr, Clever, MO

Price: $680,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: Tapestries, suits of armor, thick stone walls, battlements—even gargoyles! Within its 4,922 square feet there are four bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and an unfinished dungeon (er, basement) that could be used as a wine cellar, storm shelter, or makeshift holding cell for misbehaving guests. And the property also has a private zip line for pulse-racing escapes.

Missouri castle

realtor.com

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6008 Hillsboro Pike, Nashville, TN

Price: $1,890,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: This home fit for country music royalty was built in 1967, but the five-bedroom, six-bath interior has been completely renovated so the entire royal family can be comfortably accommodated. Nestled on 2.45 acres, the home has plenty of room for jousting. And of course there’s a full wet bar, perfect for Tyrion to knock back a few.

Nashville castle

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14125 NW Germantown Rd, Portland, OR

Price: $4 million

Why it gets our seven blessings: A one-of-a-kind Portland icon known as Blackberry Castle, this one has a royal courtyard to die for! It sits on 6 acres and has a vineyard and an underground wine cellar to store the libations wrought from the fruit of its own vines. Potential Rapunzel suitors will appreciate the fabulously equipped home gym with the climbing wall, and the princess in all of us will be well pleased with the two-story turret library, the European village–style atrium bar, and the home spa with sauna.

Portland area castle

realtor.com

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39 Bradford Rd, Scarsdale

Price: $1,695,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: If everyone in Westeros weren’t so darn intent on vying for the Iron Throne, they could be perfectly content in this lovely Tudor, originally built in 1928 and completely updated inside and out. Stately flagstones add to its castle-like exterior, while a spacious new kitchen, a sparkling sunroom, and an enchanting master suite give the lord and lady of the manor some much-deserved pampering.

Scarsdale Tudor palace

realtor.com

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7525 S Highway A1a, Melbourne, FL

Price: $3,250,000

Why it gets our seven blessings: Only in Florida will you find a terra-cotta-colored sandcastle right on the beach. It was custom-built by a prominent brewmaster, which could explain the beer can turret motif, and the lighted copper dome over the circular bar that looks suspiciously like the top of an ale-brewing vat. As all the best castles are, this one is a bit of a landmark on Melbourne Beach. One of its more charming features is a rooftop deck from where you can stargaze and watch the flaming catapults fire, or rather the rockets launch, from Cape Canaveral.

A bright sandcastle in Florida

realtor.com

Watch: This Idaho Castle Is Fit for Eco-Conscious Royalty

The post Wish You Lived in a ‘Game of Thrones’-Style Castle? Buy One Right Here appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

from https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/game-of-thrones-final-season-castles-you-can-buy/

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davidoespailla · 5 years

Text

Wish You Lived in a ‘Game of Thrones’-Style Castle? Buy One Right Here

realtor.com

So in honor of the greatest TV show of all time, we’ve plundered our listings to come up with the real-life regal residences you can actually buy—or fight for if that’s your thing.

Hold the door!

3716 North White Chapel Boulevard, Southlake, TX

Price: Concierge Auction bid starting at $2.5 million

An American castle in the Dallas–Fort Worth area

realtor.com

———

33300 Highway 157, Menlo, GA 30731

Price: $999,998

Massive, unfinished Georgia castle

realtor.com

———

722 39th St, Downers Grove, IL