#ez reyes x oc

[garbinge]

Pottery

Angel Reyes & EZ Reyes & Sister OC Cynalena ‘Cyn’ Reyes

Day 15 from these April Prompts: “Pottery”

Summary: The youngest Reyes sibling deals with the death of her mother and the effect that has on each of the Reyes men. 

A/N: I apparently love to give funeral backstories to sibling OCs I have full multichap stories for. I have a whole nestor x cyn story that I’ve been working on and hope to post sometime soon, but in the meantime enjoy this little back story of her life with her brothers. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of death and blood. Angst, a whoooollleee lot of it. 

Mayans Taglist: @justreblogginfics @drabbles-mc @narcolini

The house was empty. Not physically by any means. There was furniture throughout, pictures hung along walls, some older, some newer. There were even signs of life, keys hung on hooks that were conveniently placed near the front door, shoes tossed around underneath in an untidy pile, and finally a chair pulled out from under the table, like someone had just gotten up and was expected to be back. But unfortunately, no one was expected to be back in that seat. Which is why the house felt empty. 

Cyn stood at the front door taking in the emptiness, staring at the chair right hand to the head of the table, taking note of the plate full of crumbs and mug that had dried coffee stains in it by now. It had been 3 whole days since her mother had passed but each one felt like an eternity. 

The first day was when she found out, the numbness hadn’t hit anyone yet, the shock was still prominent. Each member of the Reyes family trying to wrap their heads around the news, except EZ, who was there. Who saw his mother laid out on the ground, the blood leaving her body. EZ had hit numbness the minute the paramedics pronounced her DOA. 

The second day was when everyone else was caught up to the middle Reyes sibling. That’s when the quiet overcame them, no one had much to say. The only chatter in the house was Cyn who ended up putting together her mother’s memorial services. It was very much a ‘if she didn't do it, it wouldn’t get done’ situation but she took the opportunity to really just dive into it, push the grief and mourning aside and just busy herself. 

The third day was the day before the services. There wasn’t anything left to do which is what left Cyn standing in the house she was currently growing up in, just barely 17. She stared at the dishware for a moment before making her way through the living room and into the kitchen. There was no sign of anyone being in the home, but she knew her father was probably laying in bed, it took him two days to even enter the bedroom, let alone sit in the bed he shared with his now late wife, but once he did there was no getting him out. 

Cyn looked around at the kitchen, her face filled with sadness but also a tad of disgust when her eyes roamed over the misplaced stack of dirty dishes and trash bin that was overflowing. After a quick deep breath, she decided to fill her mind with more busy work. Cleaning the dishes, taking out the trash, clearing the dining room table. Her last task was washing the blankets from the living room, figured she could at least swap out whatever her father was using in the bedroom with a clean blanket. As she was taking things out of the dryer she heard the front door close rather loudly followed by heavy footsteps. Angel. She knew each of her brother’s footsteps, she had come to learn through the years of them sneaking in and out of the house. Angel’s were heavy even when they wanted to be soft and secretive, while EZ’s were more calculated, like him. 

She peaked her head around as she folded the last blanket. Angel caught her movement and nodded his head toward her. 

“Sup.” 

“Hey, where’ve you been? Where’s EZ?”  Cyn picked up the blanket she was going to bring in for her father and folded it over her arms so it was cuddled in front of her.

“What is this, 20 questions?” The sound of the fridge opening echoed in the house as Angel opened it. 

“I just figured we could go over the schedule for tomorrow.” Cyn walked into the kitchen beside him.

“Schedule?” Angel frowned. “We get her ashes, we spread her ashes, and then we drink at some shitty restaurant afterwards with people we haven't seen in years telling us how sorry they are for our loss.” 

Cyn wasn’t going to argue with her eldest brother, she understood they were all hurting and Angel had a tendency of acting out even on a good day. 

“Pops hasn’t left the room, I’m not even sure if he’s eaten.” 

Angel popped open a beer, “He’s been drinking though, there’s only 6 beers left, I bought a 24 pack yesterday.”

“I had a couple,” EZ said as he entered the kitchen from the back door. “Needed to get out and get some air last night, took some with me.” 

“A couple? You took like half the fuckin’ case,” Angel snapped. 

“They’re in the family fridge, figured they were up for grabs.” EZ shrugged his older brother off. 

Cyn knew what was about to happen, she’d seen her brothers argue with each other time after time. 

“Family fridge? What the fuck is that?” Angel was shutting the fridge. 

“Do you want me to pay you back, Angel? Fifteen fuckin’ dollars for the case of stale ass miller lite?” 

Angel scoffed and ushered out the kitchen chair and sat down abruptly. “Man, shut the fuck up.” 

Cyn quickly brought herself into the conversation in hopes to de-escalate it. 

“I cleaned up, Pops–”

“You what?” EZ turned to her, his eyebrows frowning while his eyes were wide. His head snapped as he rapidly moved through the house leaving Angel and Cyn alone in the kitchen looking at each other in confusion. 

He stomped back into the kitchen, practically running to the microwave and looked at it displaying the time. 

“Why would you do that?” His voice was nervous, but scaringly loud. 

“What? Clean?” Cyn frowned, a little bit of attitude dripping off her voice. 

“The microwave had 3 seconds left on it, she always left it at that when she’d reheat her morning coffee,” EZ was moving just as quickly as he was talking. “You washed her blankets and cleaned up her mess, those were the last things we had of her.” 

EZ’s voice was starting to become more shaky as it raised at his little sister. Cyn stared at him, shaking herself because this was one of the handful of times her brother ever yelled at her. They were close, not just in age but also as siblings, Cyn even considered him a friend. They went to school together, they talked all the time, he knew the girl, and yet he stood there, during one of the most heartbreaking times of their lives, losing it on her. 

Angel spoke up. “You sound fuckin’ crazy bro.” 

“Me? I’m crazy? At least I’m acknowledging she’s gone, you’re in denial and Cyn’s trying to be her.” 

Angel saw Cyn’s face drop, the pain of EZ’s words slashing through her like a knife. 

“Yo. Watch it.”

Angel stood up, still towering over EZ in height. 

“Come at me all you want, but don’t come at our baby sister on some bullshit.” 

EZ got up in Angel’s face, not letting the height the eldest Reyes had on him sway his ego in the slightest. “I’m doin’ for this family, what it can’t do for itself.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean, bro?” Angel was frowning down at EZ. 

EZ didn’t answer, he just stood there for a couple seconds before he turned away and walked right back out the door he came through. 

Cyn felt her stomach fall into a pit, the tears were welling up in her eyes. She was staring empty out of the kitchen window, the words of her brother still sitting fresh inside her brain. All of them, not just the ones that were directed at her. It was the moment she fully realized she lost what she had with her brother. He was no longer her friend. The only thing connecting them now was blood and that even felt shaky. 

Angel’s hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and turn to him. “Don’t let his dumb ass get to you, he’s all fucked up from seeing it all go down.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Cyn’s voice was pointed. Old habits die hard, she tended to always take EZ’s side growing up because he always had hers. She felt like she needed to defend him in this moment. 

Angel’s hand fell from her shoulder at her response and she immediately back tracked. “Fuck, Angel. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m fucked up too.” 

Angel nodded, his face solemn as he chugged the rest of his beer and placed it empty on the table. “I gotta head out, I’ll see you tonight or tomorrow morning or whenever, just text me the details for the service.” He was placing a quick kiss to her head and making his way out the same door the other Reyes brother had just left from. 

“Angel.” Cyn called out, taking one step forward but it was too late, he had already left. Her head fell in defeat and her eyes closed for a couple seconds before she processed everything. After a deep breath of accepting everything, she shook it off, grabbed the empty bottle, threw it in the recycling and walked over to her parents bedroom with the blanket still draped over her arm. 

She lightly knocked on the door, waiting for a response but opened it even without one. 

“Pop?” Cyn peeked her head in and saw him laying on his side in bed, the blankets were moving up and down from Felipe’s breathing, which gave Cyn a slight bit of relief. She moved into the bedroom swiftly, not wanting to disturb him much more than she already had. 

“I have a new blanket for you. Fresh from the dryer so it’s still warm.” Her voice raised in a hopeful tone, thinking maybe that fact would bring him some type of comfort. “I’ll leave it here at the corner of the bed.” She placed the blanket down gently and moved to grab the empty glasses and plates that were in the room to move them to the sink. As she reapproached the bedroom door, she turned and spoke up. “I’m going to be heading down to the crematorium, we’re picking out an urn for them to place Mom’s ashes in. I told Angel and EZ about it but I have a feeling they’re probably not gonna be able to make it, but I just wanted to let you know, in case, but no worries, i can handle it. I’ll pick up dinner on my way home, too.” She felt herself rambling, her father wasn’t much of a talker usually, but the silence felt worse these days. “Um, alright. I’m gonna head out.” She started to close the door but then opened it again. “Love you.” It was said at that same hopeful tone as earlier but this time she was closing the door before she could be let down by his lack of response. 

_____

She felt small staring up at the wall full of urns. She felt alone too. Her eyes were darting from one row to the next, taking in all the urns, some made out of ceramic, some handmade in Mexico, some porcelain, some marble, metal, and even glass. Scanning them all trying to pick one for her mother was seemingly difficult, her mind was scattered all over the place. 

“That one.” Her father’s voice startled her. Turning her head she saw him standing next to her, pointing to the handmade and hand painted urn on the second shelf. It was black and clay coloured with accents of blue, green, orange, and yellow as flowers and patterns along the body of the urn. It felt like Marisol. Cyn actually was wondering how she had completely missed it. 

Cyn nodded and got one of the operators of the crematorium to assist her in the purchase. Her father stood outside and waited for her to wrap up, it was probably his first time out in fresh air since the day everything happened. 

“You want to walk downtown and grab a bite?” Cyn asked as she approached her father. Her face wasn’t looking at him as she asked, she was too busy fidgeting with the receipt into her bag to notice he was in his own world. 

“You’re not replacing her, you know.” Felipe’s voice was raspy and low as he spoke. 

Her face snapped up to see him staring into the sky. 

“I heard what EZ said. You’re not replacing her.” This time Felipe’s voice was more stern. 

“Thanks.” She wasn’t quite sure what to say here. 

“You should leave.” Felipe looked over at her now. 

“Alright, I’ll bring food home for you.” Cyn didn’t take his words to heart. 

“No, Cynalena.” Her full name left his mouth. “Leave Santo Padre.” 

Those were probably the heaviest words she heard all day. She didn’t respond. Not just because she didn’t want, but because she had nothing to say. 

“The service is at 11AM tomorrow, I’ll let EZ and Angel know. The word has spread to the family, everyone who needs to know, knows. Love you, Pop.” She kissed the side of his head and made her way in the opposite direction, not taking a second to look back at him but just keep walking forward. 

Her footsteps stopped and she looked up to see a neon sign turn on. Dusk was approaching so the moment it turned on and illuminated onto her feet she was looking up at it. Her gaze turned to inside the tattoo shop in front of her and before realizing it, she was inside and on the chair getting something permanently on her skin to commemorate something she wanted to permanently forget. 

#angel reyes #ez reyes #ez reyes x oc #angel reyes x oc #reyes brothers x oc #reyes brothers #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #Reyes Sister #Reyes Sibling OC #OC Cynalena

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Love Bleeds Red - An EZ Reyes/OC One Shot Story.

Some tender and loving EZ for your viewing pleasure, besties!

Words - 1,678

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI! Also, this focuses on period sex, more normalising of the practice than blood kink. 

“I’m so horny.” Her lament was delivered on a soft sigh, curling her knees into herself more.

EZ was perplexed at why, from her point of view, this wasn’t a problem he could very easily facilitate the remedy for. “So, let’s go and have sex, then.”  

She crinkled her nose slightly, her shoulder twitching in a show of discomfort. “I still have my period a bit.”

“And?” he shrugged. “I don’t care, we can just put a towel down.” She looked at him in slight disbelief, prompting his soft laughter. “Really, I don’t give a damn. It isn’t like blood doesn’t wash off.”  

She eventually agreed, feeling a little uncomfortable about it still, going to wash and do the necessary tampon removal, seeing that she was just spotting a little and relaxing more with the idea. By the time she was lying beneath the warm blanket of his nudity, her hands touring the caramel brown skin encasing such huge muscles, she was even more comfortable, EZ’s mouth covering hers in soft kisses as he held her to him.  

He always loved the way his skin looked against hers, the contrast, him darker, and her so pale. Snow White, he often called her, with her alabaster skin, dark hair, blue eyes and rosebud lips. She was a million miles away from any other woman he’d ever been with, and that was the draw with her initially. Now, she kept him captivated with so much more than her pristine good looks. One of those things in particular, he slowly worked his way towards with a trail of hungry kisses.

“Baby, are you...” she trailed off in question, raising her eyebrows. “But I’m...” An uncomfortable grimace followed.  

Again, she was met by a shrug. “You said it wasn’t much.” His lips pressed hot upon her bare pubic mound, those kisses lowering further. “Besides, you’re not bleeding from here.” His tongue skimmed her clit in a gentle lick, his fingers opening her to his view, seeing nothing there untoward. A tiny taste of copper tang wouldn’t put him off, though. His investment was in making her feel good when she needed him to, regardless of what he sensed men who had come before him likely treated with repulsion, for her to be so surprised at his ease with it.  

Each careful flick of his tongue had pleasure skittering through her, the lingering aches within soothed by the warm rush of delight, little comets beginning to glitter through her, her thighs shaking under the stroking from his hands. For him to not care at all, to put himself directly near to where she bled, it made her feel bonded with him on another level of intimacy, each warm lap of his tongue evoking a bloom of tingles, his thumb softly stroking her opening in time with each licked circle over her clit.  

Slick, sparkling dew wet his thumb, his tongue slipping down, pressing flat against her, laving with slow, hard licks, ending at her bud, feeling it twitch against his tongue, sucking on her, his cock pressed hard against his abs.  

“Fuck, you’re so wet already.” He groaned, tongue dipping into her opening again, tasting her arousal keenly, dragging back to her clit with the kind of light swirls that evoked beautiful tingles to begin sizzling up her spine.  

Using his thumb, he pulled her clit hood back, exposing the little bud to his tongue, licking her slowly up and down, from side to side and then in circles, groaning against her as the divine song of her arousal filled the air, his blue-eyed beauty delirious with pleasure.  He opened his eyes, his mouth widening into a smile as he watched her in utter rapture, sucking her gently again with a deep groan, long lashes closing, his furnace stoked to roaring flame by the heat of her own embers, her perfect, silky pale skin goosepimpled and quivering.  

“You’re so goddamned beautiful, you know that?” he told her adoringly, eyes finding hers over the heaving orbs of her tits, thumb taking over at her clit while he circled her navel with sweeping, wet heat, kissing his way to her mouth again. “And god, I fucking love you so much.”  

“I love you, too.” Her words tremored on a soft gasp, EZ kissing her again before he moved to lie flat before her once more, lips encircling her bud, enveloping and sucking, his cheeks hollowing, deep moans adding vibrations to the incredible sensations that had her reeling.

He released her with a soft pop, tongue beating back and forth over her swollen clit, her body straying from him slightly, the pleasure driving her away, each nerve ending wracked with oversensitivity. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her still as his mouth buried into her slick heat again, so firm and consuming, feasting upon her with zeal.  

She had to wonder if the wet warmth she could feel spreading was more than the silky slick of her arousal, her eyes searching his before she spoke. “I’m not, am I...” she tentatively questioned, EZ shaking his head as he continued to eat her with unrelenting hunger.

“You’re not, stop worrying about it.” His voice had gone to gravel with lust, her head resting back on the pillow, the dark waves fanned out across the white linen of the bed, her nails trailing his scalp as her soft moans spurred him on further.

He began to coax deep grits from her throat, her sweet demeanour giving way to a woman of coarseness, making him so foggy with arousal he couldn’t bear not to be inside her a moment longer. Pleasure fell like a shooting star within the vast sky that was her body, his thumb taking over what his tongue had so skilfully conjured as he moved between her legs, the thick head of his hardness intruding, parting her soaking walls with a long sigh of satisfaction.

The heat of his cock radiated throughout her, the golden-brown sunset of his eyes darkened with lust, pupils blown as he fixated upon her. He loved her with every fibre of himself, the flames of such catching at her edges, cindering, his fingertips caressing her face, gliding though her hair, raining kisses upon her perfect lips, her own trawling over his thick, wide back, her molten core alight, the petals of her cunt opened like a flower around the thick intrusion of him.

He glided against her tender walls, pushing her thighs further apart as he dipped his head to kiss the column of her throat, her veins warmed by unrelenting, sharp waves of pleasure throbbing out from her core, where she felt warmth rushing forth, knowing she was covering him in a sheen of crimson, feeling as if she needed to pull away. He only clutched her tighter, kissed her with more urgency, told her with his body and all the love that poured from him into her that it didn’t matter at all.  

She softened then, gave in to the pleasure, to him covering her, her entire body feeling like he was lighting up entire constellations within her, burning and collapsing, brightness illuminating through darkness as her hips moved up against him, her legs wrapping around his waist, each little mewl soft against lips that kissed her with tenderness, but all the heat of a thousand suns.  

He sat back on his heels, ecstasy soaring through him as his hands stroked her curves, watching his cock slipping effortlessly into the tight grasp of her cunt, becoming redder with every thrust. Her inner thighs were stained, bright red smearing upon soft, fresh snow, the sight of it more arousing than he’d ever considered it would be. There was something about having her at that time, something primal stirred within him, the source of all that was fertile within her painted upon them, the picture of love, lust and greed, an undying need for one another, hot vermillion flowing freely the harder he hit his cock against her summit, evoking her cries of feral bliss.

His head dipped, sucking the soft pink of her nipples in turn, panting against her tits as she gripped him hard, the viscid clutch dragging sparks along the length of his cock as he lost all control, staccato thrusts replacing anything contained as he chased the swell of nirvana, fire chasing frost through his veins, his hand dropping between them, thumb rubbing her clit as he took his weight on his other arm, forehead pressed to hers, her cries of ecstasy pooling on her lips as he drank them back with every kiss.  

“Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged, his groans all smoke and salt. “Cum for me, baby.”  

And she did, and it was a swell so magnificently fervent, it knocked her sideways, a blaze of euphoria reducing her to ashes, his hips stuttering as he filled her with thick ropes of cum, bliss consuming his body as it slowed and settled upon hers.  

They lay in a haze, wrapped around one another, messy, blood streaked and breathless, for what felt like a long time, stroking one another, sleepy and dreamy as what had so consumed them ebbed away, her soft walls twitching around him. Afterwards, he carried her to the bathroom, plugging the tub and turning the tap on, emptying honey scented bubble bath in, turning to kiss her. He threw the bloodied towel in the sink, pouring in cold water over it, and once the bath was full, slid down into it behind her, the warm cocoon cleansing them both, trails of red colouring the water he held her in, stroking her dark hair while laying fond kisses upon her shoulder.  

He knew as he lay there that he’d hunger for her again the next month, to be painted in her womanliness, to show her the same affection. Except the next month didn’t come, the seed that would become his son planted, bringing forth another fertile joy for EZ; one where he fucked his love while she was swollen and beautiful with his child.  

A/N - Please, be good to your author and reblog if you enjoyed this. Don’t want to reblog because it doesn’t match the aesthetic of your blog? That’s fine. Leaving a little comment of appreciation goes a long way!

#ez reyes #ez reyes smut #ez reyes fanfiction #ez reyes x oc #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes fic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #jd pardo #jd pardo fanfiction #jd pardo imagine #jd pardo x oc

[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.”

#whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday22 #let's get you cleaned up #mayansmc #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x ofc #ez reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes x oc #ez reyes fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[the-wandering-lunatic]

Scars Remain - Pt. 4

Bishop Losa x Female OC, Lex

Mayans & SOA crossover

⚠️ Warnings: domestic violence, abusive relationship, panic attacks, normal canon violence

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

Part Four

Bishop stood, hurling the beer bottle across the room to shatter against the far wall, fury burning through his veins.

Chibs' fist swung out to Bishop, catching him below the eye, knocking him back to the couch. Chibs towered over him. "You should've fuckin called the moment you found out she was my daugh'er! No, instead you decided to fuck her-!"

Bishop rose and clocked Chibs in the jaw, making him stumble backwards.

"The fuck did you let her leave with that son of a bitch in the first place!?" He hollered at Chibs. "This is all on you!" Bishop seethed, shoving at Chibs again. The rest of the Mayans stood, waiting the next move.

"Good!" Tig yelled, clapping as he and Happy stood from their seats at the bar, moving to them. "Get that shit out of your system so you're not trashing shit in front of her like fucking animals!" He motioned between Chibs and Bishop. "You two need to handle your shit right fucking now. Beat the shit out of each other or what have you, but fucking handle it! I'm not having her see any of this! I'm getting her out of here. Call me when you're done!" His eyes wild as he stepped back and jerked the clubhouse door open, slamming it behind him as the chaos erupted.

___

The next thing I knew, a hot plate of eggs and bacon was sat in front of me. I snapped to the present and looked around. Tig and I were at a diner just outside of Santo Padre. How I got here was a blur. My brain a jumbled mess from earlier this morning at the clubhouse.

"You with me, doll?"

My stomach growled loudly and I slowly lifted a piece of bacon from the plate. My hand trembling.

"Well, ya got an appetite, so that's a start."

I glanced up at him, his ice blue eyes warily watching me.

I devoured the plate in front of me in silence. My only focus right now on staunching the hunger. I leaned back, placing the fork on the empty plate. The fog began to clear from my mind. My thoughts slowing as I processed this morning's events.

Happy...

My father...

Finally coming clean with everyone...

Bishop...

"He wants nothing to do with me now..." I whispered, staring at the now empty plate. "He wouldn't even look at me.."

Tig sighed, taking a gulp of coffee. "If that's the case, then I'll kill him myself...if Chibs hasn't already." He sat the mug back down. "But, think about it, sweetheart. You just relived your worst nightmare in front of him." He paused, placing his hand on mine as I gripped the side of the table. "He just heard every horror that fucking bastard did to his girl...that you almost died. He needs a beat to process it all. He's angry - not at you, doll-" he countered, seeing the expression on my face. "-none of that was your fault so stop blaming yourself right now." His voice was strained, trying to real his anger in as he pointed at me. He closed his eyes a moment and drew a deep breath in. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Like I said, it was... a lot to hear. We all want our turn with the prick. We're all angry, but none of it is directed at you. Alright?"

I chewed on my lip, going over everything he'd said. Tig was right. I knew he was. But being able to forgive myself after all this time of thinking everything was my own doing, that I deserved it all... was going to take time.

"I just don't want everyone to look at me with pity. I don't want to see that. I can't-"

"Hey...relax, babe. If they do, then just call Uncle Tigger and I'll set them straight." He smirked across the table at me.

I forced a small smile back at him. It didn't reach my eyes, but it was a step forward.

"We missed you so much, baby girl-"

Tig was cut short by his phone ringing. He glanced at the number and grunted as he stood. "Stay here. I'll be right outside."

I nodded, picking up the still steaming cup of coffee in front of me as I watched him walk out to the lot. Surprisingly, no tears had fallen since I'd been with Tig this morning. I'm not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Was I closing off? Becoming numb and compartmentalizing? Or was I finally moving forward and healing?

___

4 months later...

I sat on the rooftop of the clubhouse, the night dark except for the lights from the yard. I'd found this to be my escape when the parties got a little too claustrophobic. My personal vantage point where I could silently observe everyone.

I heard the hatch rattle and soon enough, EZ came to sit next to me.

I took one final drag off my cigarette and shoved the butt into my empty beer bottle, taking the fresh cold one EZ handed me.

"Bishop's looking for you."

I snorted. "He should know where I am by now, E." We clinked bottles "Salud."

He chuckled "He does. He sent me-"

"To come check on me" I finished his sentence, shaking my head. "I love the man, but he can be suffocating at times since..." I trailed off.

It had been 4 months since my worlds collided at the bonfire. Everything tilted after Happy had unexpectedly been at the clubhouse that night. Forcing my dark secrets into the light, resulting in a downward spiral in my head for a few weeks. After my recounting of the abuse and my attempted murder at the hands of Ryan, my father had damn near dragged me from Santo Padre. Bishop and him got into it, each coming away with sore jaws and bruised egos. I'd managed to convince my father to let me stay. I wasn't a child anymore, hadn't been for some time, and we agreed that Charming may not be safe just yet until we knew what or if Ryan would try and do anything. The Mayans were now my family too, and would go to the death for me...and as much as my father hated to admit it, he knew I'd be safest here. At least for a while.

A switch had flipped inside Bishop after that. While he assured me that nothing that had happened to me was my fault, it took a while to shake the thoughts from my head. But Bishop was always there with a comforting presence when my demons would surface.

Bishop was constantly at my side, and when he couldn't be, EZ was tasked as my shadow. I'd hated having a tail at first, but EZ and I quickly developed a sibling type relationship.

EZ sighed. "Yeah, but can you blame him?"

"No, I get it. It just gets too much at times and I need some space is all."

EZ held the bottle up, pausing before taking a drink. "Have you tried telling him that?"

I cocked my head, giving EZ a side glare silently saying 'really?'

He laughed. "Bish isn't the best at being told what to do."

I laughed lightly "Understatement of the decade."

I smiled to myself. As protective and somewhat overbearing as Bishop was at times, it came from a place of deep love, and I was grateful.

EZ and I fell into comfortable silence for a few moments before I took a breath, eyes locked on the small bonfire below. "Will you teach me to fight?"

EZ froze mid sip and lowered his beer as he looked over to me "What?"

I huffed out a breath and faced him. "Teach me to fight...box....spar, whatever you want to call it." I waved the beer bottle.

"No, I heard you. I just... I guess I expected someone would've taught you growing up..."

I looked down at my hands, picking at the label on the bottle "Never had the need.... until I did and I couldn't defend myself. I refuse to let that happen again. No matter what Bishop says or does, he won't be there at all times, and neither will you... I need this, E. Please."

He stared down at the fire for a moment, the flames dancing in his dark eyes before meeting my gaze and giving a small smile. "We'll start tomorrow."

~💀~

Tags:

@shinymoonstarfish @saltyunicorn079 @stitchattacks

#bishop losa #bishop losa fic #bishop losa x reader #bishop x oc #bishop x reader #mayans #mayans x reader #mayans fic #soa x reader #soa fanfiction #tig trager #tig x reader #tig trager x oc #tig x oc #chibs telford #chibs fanfiction #chibs x reader #ez reyes #ez reyes x oc #ez reyes x reader

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 26

Well don't kill me. Here's part 26. It's a bit of lead up.

Personal note - I'm now on some serious heart medication due to reoccurring heart issues, so I'm a little foggy. Things may be a bit slower than they used to be even though I hoped to stick to my previous posting of about a chapter a week. That's not working out very well. It's taking me longer to get my ideas on paper and then even longer to get them typed. Please be patient with me.

Warnings: cursing (maybe), show level casual illegal activity, Angel being a menace.

Also - don't steal my shit. This is the only place this is posted.

Taza, Hank, Megan and Rex quickly joined the rest of the club inside. “Morning, Poquito, Hank, Taza. You look like you’re going somewhere important,” Bishop greeted them as he claimed a morning hug from Megan. “What’s the plan today?”

Hank smiled ruefully. “Ask la princessa. She’s the one that’s insistent about it.”

Megan, who had moved on to giving Marcus his morning greeting, shot him a look over her good shoulder.

“Really now, Bebita? What’s he mean?” Marcus asked, looking down at her as he hugged her close. 

Megan sighed. “We’re going to see the doctor in Santa Madre for an x-ray. I want this sling off so I can have my life back.”

Creeper frowned from the bar stool where he was perched. “Didn’t the rez doctor say no?”

Megan grimaced. “He said not quite, but that was with the plaster cast. The soft cast and the immobilizing sling mean it’s been resting more than it had been. Some progress has to have been made.”

Bishop nodded and sat down at one of the tables with a cup of coffee. “How’s the pain?”

“Honestly - so much better. I haven’t had so much as an aspirin and it just feels achey and stiff,” she assured him.

“How achey?” Bishop asked again.

“More than a post workout ache but less than a set dislocated shoulder ache. I honestly think I’d be fine without the sling for the most part. I can always put it back on if it hurts.” She shrugged her good shoulder.

There was a collective wince from the elders at her description.

“What the hell, Shorty. How’d you know what a dislocated shoulder feels like, huh?” Angel asked, giving her a skeptical look.

“Angel - I rode in rodeos. Not a rider I know who hasn’t dislocated at least one shoulder once. In my event - that was the price of a mistake,” she smiled. “And a small price to pay rather than a broken leg or back.”

“Shit, Ma. And you did that shit for fun?” Coco added, puffing on his cigarette. 

“Well, the money was nice too.”

“Holy shit. No wonder you didn’t freak out about the pain.” Coco ashed the cigarette in his hand. “Y’all need someone to ride along?”

“Nah. Thanks, Coco. We’re good, I think. Just a quick run for an x-ray,” Hank assured him as he settled into a chair across the table from Taza.

“Besides- like Creep said - the rez doc didn’t think she was healed enough yet. Good possibility it’s still too early but la princessa is impatient,” Taza said with a grin in Megan’s direction. SHe stuck her tongue out at him.

“Well, we have Angel and EZ doing the Adelita meet today. They’re going South anyway. Might as well go along with you so they don’t have to walk from the desert,” Bishop said. He turned to look at EZ where he was polishing glasses. “Prospect, you better do your memory shit. Poquito could only arrange for the two of you. We’ll hold Templo tonight so everyone gets read in at once.”

EZ nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“And don’t fuck it up,” Hank added.

Taza agreed. “You two fuck up  this gun deal… Neither of you can afford it. The club can’t afford it.”

Both brothers nodded solemnly. 

It wasn’t even an hour laters that they met at the dress warehouse hatch. By now they had this to a science. EZ carried Rex. The ladder was difficult for Megan on handed, so Hank went first so he could catch her if she slipped. Taza stayed at the top guiding her down as far as he could maintain his balance. 

The tunnel itself wasn’t too bad. The terrain was a bit rough, but nothing Megan couldn’t handle with the help of the lights and either Taza or Hank’s guiding hand on her good arm. 

THe hatch on the other end, however, was the bane of her existence. The ladder was built for much taller men so the rungs were further apart and roughly built. They weren’t evenly spaced either. When they reached it Megan sighed. She had slipped every time at this end.

“What’s wrong, Princessa?” EZ asked. “Need a break?” He handed her a bottle of water from the backpack he was carrying. 

Megan shot him a rueful smile and sipped it. “More like an elevator. I hate this ladder.”

Taza grimaced. “We’ll get a new one soon, Chica. Just gotta deal until then.”

Angel eyed the ladder. “Bet me and the boyscout could get you up it easier.”

Hank frowned a bit and tugged Megan to rest against his chest a moment. “What do you mean, Angel?”

“We got Creep up it pretty easy when he needed the doc. Megan’s a lot smaller.” Angel shrugged. “Same way we used to get shit into the attic for Pops.”

EZ broke into a wide grin. “You might be right.”

Taza shrugged a bit as he glanced at Megan. “What do you say, Chica? Want to let them try it?”

Megan eyed the hated ladder, before turning to eye the brothers. “Promise not to drop me?”

Angel gave a sardonic laugh. “And risk getting shot? We won’t drop you, Shorty.”

“Alright then. How’re we doing this?” she asked.

Angel grinned. “Taza, you and EZ go first. Once you’re up, EZ lays on the floor to lift la princessa with Taza to anchor him. Megan gets on my shoulder an’ EZ pulls her out. Simple. Reyes Brothers Elevator.”

Hank chuckled and shook his head, amazed at the simplicity of it. “I’ll help steady you, mi amore. This way you don’t risk falling like yesterday.” The day before, Megan had been lucky Hank was behind her for the ladder. He’d had to catch her twice.

Just like Angel outlined, Taza and EZ went first with EZ carrying Rex. Taza paid the toll while the prospect laid down and hung his top half through the hatch. Taza anchored his legs as Hank helped Angel get Megan onto his shoulders and steadied her as he stood. Then EZ locked his arm and pulled Megan up until Taza could help her out of the hatch. In the end, EZ was breathing a little heavy, but the near disaster of the day before had been averted. Angel and Hank then climbed up to join them. 

“Thanks Angel and EZ. That was much easier on my end,” Megan said, smiling at the brothers. 

Angel gave a slightly cocky grin. “Anything for la princessa de los Mayas, right Prospect?”

EZ laughed a little and straightened his kutte. “Right.”

Once they reached the town, Angel and EZ dropped them off at the storefront where the doctor kept an office upstairs and headed out to the coordinates Luisa had sent to the burner phone in Angel’s pocket. 

“Alright, Chica. Let’s go get this x-ray and find out how you’re doing. After, we can go find something to do until Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum get back,” Taza said with a grin.

Hank led the way up the narrow stairs and paused at the top to smile back at Megan. “You ready, mi amore?”

Megan smiled a little nervously. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Of course, Princessa.” He chuckled a little. “We’d have to anyway - Doc doesn’t speak English.”

Inside, Taza spoke with a man quietly in Spanish as Megan leaned into Hank’s side. The conversation wasn’t very long before the man smiled at Megan and waved her forward. 

Megan turned to look at Taza. 

“He just wants to take the sling off and feel for the break before he x-rays you, Chica,” Taza assured her. 

Hank guided her forward and worked the sling straps on her back to release them. Once the sling was off, he sat her on the narrow wooden table while holding her good hand.

The doctor approached with his hands held calmingly out in front of him. He gently pressed along her collarbone. He looked at Hank and asked something. 

“Mi reina, he wants to know if it hurts when he touches it,” Hank translated. 

“No. It’s a little achey, but that’s just the stiffness I think,” Megan said. 

The doctor nodded as Taza translated what was said. He gestured for Hank to step away from Megan and rolled a camera looking machine in front of her before holding a metal panel behind her shoulder. Megan fought the urge to giggle as she realized that the x-ray machine was a portable vet tool. 

The doctor took the shots that he needed before indicating that he’d be back in a moment. 

As soon as he was out of the room, Megan lost the battle with her giggles. Both men grinned at her. 

“What’s so funny, Chica?” Taza asked, amused at her reaction to this doctor. He had expected nerves or even some defiance like he’d seen the other times doctors had looked at her. 

“Papa, he’s not a doctor, is he? He’s a vet,” Megan bit her lip to stifle her laugh.

Hank burst out laughing while Taza stared at her for a moment before joining in. 

“How’d you know, Princessa?” Hank asked as he moved to support her still splinted arm through her laughing fit.

“The x-ray machine gave it away. And he wasn’t exactly concerned that he couldn’t talk to me directly. Plus - he came at me like I was going to cow kick him if he surprised me.”

Taza laughed again. “You’re right. He’s a farm vet. We didn’t want to scare you with him not being a ‘real’ doctor, so we just didn’t say anything.”

Megan smiled mischievously. “Well - for future reference - I’d much rather the vet than the hospital any day.”

An hour or so later they were walking down the narrow steps to the street level again with Megan’s sling tucked into a bag. The doctor had given the go ahead to remove the sling as long as she wasn’t using her arm too much and there wasn’t a lot of pain. He’s also provided Hank with a refill of the ibuprofen - just in case.

Once on the street, they decided to head to a small restaurant down the street to wait for the Reyes brothers and have lunch. 

Taza ordered for them at the counter while Hank and Megan found a table in a spot where they could see the door. Megan kept rolling her right shoulder until Hank gently rubbed his hand down her spine and across her shoulders. “Are you alright, mi reina?” he asked her as he did it. 

Megan gave a soft groan of relief as Hank rubbed. Hank chuckled at the noise as she answered. “I’m fine. Just stiff.” She paused, arching her back into his rubbing hand. “That feels so good.”

Hank laughed again and scooted his chair back from the table. “Come ‘ere, Princessa. Let me help.” He tugged her to sit in his lap facing him and leaned her forward against his chest so he could gently rub the knots from her back that the sling caused. 

Megan melted against him as the firm pressure released her muscles even through her kutte and holster. 

Hank grinned as Taza came to the table with two trays of food and drinks. His smile assured Taza that nothing was seriously wrong. 

Taza placed the trays on the table and took his seat across from her. “Everything alright?” he asked quietly. 

Megan nodded from where her face was buried in between Hank’s neck and shoulder but made  no move to get up. She let out another quiet moan that only Hank could hear as he hit a particularly nice spot. 

Hank chuckled again and tried not to think about it too much. He liked that noise. He met Taza’s eyes. “Yeah. She’s just stiff and her back muscles are in knots from the sling. 

Taza laughed a little. “So that’s why she’s practically purring.” 

Hank grinned. He tilted his chin to kiss Megan’s hair. “Your papa brought lunch. You ready to eat?” he asked her. 

Megan whined a little, but nodded before lifting her head. Hank helped her to settle back into her chair with a laugh. “A hot shower when we get home will help, mi amore.”f

As they ate, they made plans for the rest of the day. They had Templo when they got back to discuss the deal with the L.O. but after that no plans had been made. 

“Well, your tíos and I need to meet after Templo to do some book work, so I’ll be tied up for the night. What are your plans, Chica?” Taza asked as he discreetly added more rice to Megan’s plate while she was distracted. 

“Don’t know. I need to let Riz know to put me back on the schedule since the sling is off, but I also know that he’s already got this week’s schedule posted. I looked this morning,” Megan said as she ate the taco she'd fixed from the communal plates Taza had ordered them. “Will you be in meetings too, Hank?”

Hank sipped his soda and shook his head. “Nah. All my book stuff is done for the next two weeks.” He leaned back in his chair and slid his arm along the back of Megan’s. “Now that your sling’s off - would you want to do something tonight?”

Megan’s eyes sparkled. “Like a date?”

Hank laughed. “Yes. Like an actual date, mi princessa. Nothing too fancy, but a date.”

Megan bounced a little in her chair. “Yes!”

Taza grinned at her enthusiasm. “There we go. I’ll be home late too, so don’t wait up for me.”

“Would you keep Rex for the night?” Hank asked, petting the big dog’s ears under the table. “I thought we might take the bike.”

Megan lit up further “Really?”

“If your papa doesn’t mind.”

Megan turned to him with her big, brown eyes pleading.

“Yes. I’ll keep the pooch - if you promise to stay with Hank, Chica. I like you having him as an extra line of defense when you’re out, so you have to promise not to do anything stupid,” Taza stipulated. 

“I promise, Papa.”

“Alright then. You two will have date night while the pooch and I work late.”

Hank’s burner beeped from his kutte pocket. He pulled it out and checked it without removing his arm from Megan’s chair. “Angel and the Prospect are back in town.”

“Perfect timing. Let’s go home.”

They met the brothers back where they’d split up. Angel quickly abandoned the driver's seat to Taza and Megan got shotgun with Hank behind her. 

At the hatch, this time Taza went first followed by Megan. It was much easier without the sling. She managed to slip once, but caught herself. Once they were at the bottom, EZ frowned at the ladder. “That thing really does need fixed. La Princessa shouldn’t have to struggle with it every time. Especially since she’s going to be dealing with this trip a lot as the armorer,” he said.

“Glad you volunteer, Prospect,” Hank agreed. “You can start on it tomorrow.”

Megan giggled a little as she caught her breath in the close confines of the tunnel but petting Rex.

“You good, Shorty? Didn’t bust nothin’ when you slipped, did ya?” Angel asked.

Megan stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m fine. Just missed a rung.”

“Alright. Just checkin’. No harm in that,” Angel grinned a bit. “Hey Boyscout - maybe you need to use that big brain of yours to figure out a lift, huh? That way la princessa doesn’t break a nail.”

Megan smacked Angel in the chest with the back of her good hand and laughed. “You suck, Angel.”

“That’s why the women love me.”

Megan wrinkled her nose. “Eeewwww. TMI.”

Angel cracked up. “You asked for it.”

Taza shook his head with an exasperated chuckle and shoved Angel forward along the tunnel. “Get going before you scar my daughter for life.”

They made their way back to the Northern hatch where they all climbed out into the dress warehouse with EZ helping to lift Rex through the door. They were all a little dusty, but none the worse for wear.

Back at the clubhouse, Megan proudly walked in without her sling to find Bishop and Marcus relaxing at a table with a few beers.

“Well look at you, Poquito. Doctor freed you?” Bishop asked, standing to claim a hug.

Megan stepped into his embrace with a smile. “Still gotta wear the soft cast and be easy with it, but he cleared me to lose the sling.”

“Good. That’ll make dance lessons easier,” Marcus said as he got his own hug,

“Among other things,” Megan agreed. 

“Is everyone here?” Hank asked.

“Waiting on Riz. He went to help Vickie with something,” Bishop said, taking his seat back.

Taza and Hank joined them as Angel split off to the bar where Coco and Gilly were waiting. EZ went to fetch drinks automatically as Hank pulled Megan onto his knee. 

“He needs to hurry up. La Princessa and her caballero have a date tonight,” Taza said, accepting the beer from EZ.

Marcus grinned. “Finally going to take Poquito somewhere, Tranq?”

Hank grinned. “That’s the plan if nothing fucking it up this time.”

Bishop looked over his shoulder at where Angel was sipping on his own beer. “We’ll be fine for one night, brother. Take Poquito out tonight. If shit hits the fan - it can wait until tomorrow for you.” He grinned. “Now, that being said - you have planning to do. So get to it. Poquito - did the doctor say when the soft cast can come off?”

Hank chuckled and pressed a kiss to the place where Megan’s neck met her shoulder before sliding out from in under her. He watched as Megan settled into his seat and got distracted by her tío’s question before slipping out to the front porch. 

Megan smiled at Bishop. “Tío, why’re you asking me? You know very well the doctor doesn’t speak English.”

Bishop laughed and nodded. “You’re right. You’re right. So what did your papa tell you he said?”

“Still another three weeks or so - as long as I don’t do anything stupid. I kind of think Papa added that part on though,” Megan teased.

Taza laughed. “I paraphrased. That’s all Chica.”

They chatted amicably for a bit before Angel came over to ask to speak to Bishop and Taza alone for a minute in Templo. That left Megan with Marcus.

“Have you heard anything from Tía Diana and Tessa?” Megan asked. “I haven’t heard much since they left.”

Marcus sat forward at the table to smile at her. He leaned his forearms there and smiled. “Yeah. I heard from them at about lunch time. They’re probably still on the road though. Tessa doesn’t have much patience for car rides, so Diana will stop often to let her stretch.” He fiddled with his beer bottle a bit. “I talked to your tía about the move. She agrees that it’s probably best for everyone if I pause my patch for a bit.”

Megan reached across the table to squeeze his fingers. “And you? What do you think?”

He squeezed back before meeting her eyes. “I think she’s right. It makes the most sense, Bebita.”

“Then why the hesitation?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know who I am without this kutte, Poquito. I’ve been wearing it so long it’s practically my skin at this point.” He sighed. “I’m struggling with letting go.”

“I understand. It’s like leaving rodeo was for me.” She fiddled with his signet ring, “But Tío, you aren’t leaving for good. It’s just like recon.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. We’ll make the call at the Templo after this one. I want to be sure the gun deal is solid first. Besides - this way nothing is on Hank’s mind tonight except you. Finally getting a real date night, huh? You gonna let him show out?”

Megan laughed and sat back. “You mean I could stop him?”

“Good point.”

Bishop and Taza returned with very serious faces. Megan sat up straight in alarm. “Papa? Everything alright?”

“Sí, Chica. Angel just had some information for us.” He pressed a reassuring kiss to the top of her head before resuming his seat. “Your tío is going to take care of it before Templo.”

Bishop nodded and gathered Gilly and Creeper before riding out. 

“Anything I need to know, Hermano?” Marcus asked.

Taza shook his head. “Nah. Charter issue.”

Marcus nodded. 

When Bishop and the others returned, Bishop’s face was like a thundercloud and Riz was with them. Hank followed them in from the front porch too. Bishop didn’t even have to say anything. He just grabbed the whiskey bottle and a glass and headed for Templo. Everyone followed.

taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

If you would like to be added to the taglist - please let me know.

#lost princessa #mayans mc #meet the reaper #taza x daughter!oc #lost princessa sequel #che taza romero #hank loza #megan(oc) x hank #mayans mc fanfic #bishop losa #marcus alvarez #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz #neron creeper vargas #creeper vargas #gilly lopez #gilly mayans #ez reyes #angel reyes #(oc) Rex the doggy

[ravennaortiz]

Two Bullets

Chapter 5 of Countdown

As always this is an 18+ only story. This story is AU based and not your typical Sons of Anarchy story. Some readers may find some plot lines and changes to some characters to be problematic please read at your discretion. This story also time jumps heavily so keep this in mind as you read!

Warnings: General themes of the show such as violence, drugs, swearing etc, minor age gap, minor smut in later chapters.

Tag List @fleureeee

Jax sat in his kitchen in the early morning hours with Juice. Neither man had spoken since Chibs, Opie and Half-Sack had left a bit ago after finalizing some minor details in the plan to get Rocky out of Charming. Jax was starting to have second thoughts even though he knew it would be best for her to not be around here. He had to admit Juice and Half-Sack had brought up a couple good points that he had not really considered in the grand scheme of things.

Such as was it really a good idea to traumatize her into thinking that not only was she being kidnapped but that they had been killed? What would keep her from running away once in Santo Padre? What keeps her from trying to avenge the fake deaths? Jax sighed heavily before pushing away from the table and rummaging through a drawer in the kitchen. Catching Juice looking at him curiously he spoke. "Gonna write her a letter real quick for them to give her. Hopefully it'll make this easier and keep her there" explained Jax as he started writing. "What if it doesn't?" inquired Juice his eyes boring into Jax. "I send you and Half to track her and take her back" replied Jax after a moment. "Go bring her bags down here" added Jax as he looked at the clock on the stove. The club from Santo Padre would be here soon. Juice nodded before going upstairs.

Juice was uneasy as he grabbed her things. This was the kind of thing people don't get forgiven for. Although Jax had stated he would shoulder all the blame he knew Rocky would hold them all responsible. He wasn't sure he could handle that but it was better than the alternative like Chibs had stated earlier. Though Halfs question still echoed in his mind. What keeps the Mayans from double crossing us?

By the time Juice had gotten back downstairs Jax was done with his letter and a light knock sounded on the back door. The two men locked eyes before Jax stood up to open the door. "Here we go" he muttered as he turned the knob. No going back now.

***

"She will be in good hands. I have established go plans with my men in case any problems arise." stated Bishop as he sat across from Jax at the Teller kitchen table. The letter Jax had written in his hands. Jax nodded before looking over to Juice who had his arms crossed blocking the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. Juice was tense and Jax worried he wouldn't be able to handle this. Bishop followed Jax's gaze to the other Son in the room and assessed him before looking to his men who filled the room. He had planned who to send upstairs to grab and go but he was rethinking his choices given the body language coming from Juice. Kid wont handle that well he thought to himself as he stood up and moved towards Juice.

"Son, are you going to pose a threat to my men?" inquired Bishop quietly as he stood in front of Juice. Juice considered him for a moment before replying. "I don't know. Letting her get taken really goes against every fiber of my being. I thought I could handle this but I don't think so" replied Juice quietly as he deflated a little. Bishop nodded and placed his hand on the younger mans shoulder. "Understandable. Kidnapping goes against ours. I'm willing to change things up a bit here. You choose who can go up the stairs behind you and the rest of them I'll send outside to the vans to wait." stated Bishop as he turned to face his men as Juice nodded.

"My concern is she....is spicy" stated Juice choosing his words carefully. Rocky fighting against this was a real concern. She was not a damsel in distress and would not go down easily. Bishop nodded hearing what he wasn't saying. "My men can take a hit and control their response" he stated confidently. Juice relaxed some at that. "Those two can go upstairs" he said pointing at the two men by the back door. "Coco and EZ your up" stated Bishop as he motioned for the others to hand out.

***

"Stop worrying about your nose and fucking help me" snapped Coco at EZ who was on the floor holding his nose as blood seeped down between his fingers . Rocky was like a feral cat and it was taking all of Coco's strength to keep her pinned down on the bed and not injure her. The sound of the two gunshots only spurred her on. EZ stumbled to his feet and managed to grab one of her kicking legs making her yelp. "Careful man" growled Coco irritated with the prospect. "Fuck you. Your not the one with a broken nose" retorted EZ his temper starting to rise.

Rocky felt like she was suffocating and her vision darkened as panic rose higher. The fact these men had made it all the way up here and she had only heard two shots started to set full panic in. She stopped struggling as it dawned on her she was probably the only one alive. Coco felt the fight leave the girl and he loosened his grip some.

***

Rocky sat restrained in the van sandwiched between one of the Mayans who had gabbed her and another one they called Angel. She had no idea where the other Mayan was, she had caught him in the eye and groin when they got to the kitchen door. He had dropped her causing the other Mayan to stumble and she had gotten out of his grip and she had went sprinting across the grass before she was tackled and brought back to the van. Tears prickled at her eyes as she looked down at her lap.

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #juice ortiz #soa fanfiction #jax teller #juice x oc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagines #ez reyes #bishop losa #RockyTellerOC

[obsessedasusual]

Lonely No More - One

Bishop Losa xOC 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, mentions/allusions to sex, alcohol

Note: 1.5k - Finally happy to start posting this!!! I’ve been writing this in the background for a while now and it just never felt right to start posting lmaoooooo but I love bishop so let’s do this🥸

She could hear the bass of the music pounding before she even left her car. In true Mayans fashion, they had the playlist roaring. Judging by the song currently playing, her money was on it being Coco’s playlist.

A Friday night, and instead of being out at a bar finding true love, she was sober driving her brothers.

Usually they would just crash on a couch somewhere in the clubhouse, or as she’d once found Angel - on a pool table.

Amalia was greeted by a couple of club hangarounds as she crossed the yard, shooting them a wave and a friendly smile. It was almost a gift, how well she was able to get on with people. Making friends wherever she went.

The smell of smoke and spilled alcohol was overwhelming when she finally made her way through the door. Quickly spotting EZ at duty behind the bar and making her way over.

“Why do I feel like I’ve turned up hours too early?” She questioned her brother as she slumped down on a bar stool.

EZ shot her a smile and slid over a bottle of coke, “I wouldn't say hours too early but, there’s no way you’re dragging him out of here yet.” Nodding his head to where Angel was stood around the pool table with Gilly and Coco, cute blonde hanging off his arm.

She let out a playful groan and took a sip of her drink, “I hate coke.”

EZ rolled his eyes but before he could respond, a rough voice sounded from behind.

“We’ll be sure to have some lemonade stocked for you next time, sweetheart.”

Amalia turned in her seat to face the president, “I would very much appreciate that thank you, Bishop.”

He smiled at her before speaking to her brother, “Beer, prospect.” EZ was quick to oblige and hand Bishop his beer, “Haven’t seen you for a while, querida. You been keeping well?”

She nodded mid-sip as Bishop moved to lean back against the bar, “I’ve been keeping very well. How about you, Mr President? Staying sane?”

Bishop let out a chuckle and nodded, “As much as I can when I’ve gotta deal with the fuckin’ Reyes brothers.”

“I’ll drink to that.” She laughed.

Her head snapped to the side when she heard someone call her name from across the room. Gilly caught her eye and was waving her over to where they were playing pool.

“That’s my cue.” Amalia smiled, turning to face Bishop, “Good to see you, Bishop.”

He nodded fondly at her, “Pleasure as always, sweetheart.”

She made her way over to the pool table and was instantly greeted with a bear hug. Gilly was the happiest drunk she had ever come across, “Took your advice about that girl. Worked like a charm. Taking her out next week.” He beamed down at you.

“I told you it would! You guys need to trust me more.” She teased.

“Thought you had a date tonight?” Angel spoke up from across the table, taking in his sister's dressed up appearance.

“I did,” she nodded, “He cancelled last minute. So here I am.”

“Asshole.” Coco muttered as he took his turn. She clapped excitedly when he sunk his shot while Angel cursed.

“You ain’t dragging me home yet.” Angel remarked and Amalia rolled her eyes.

“Relax. You can play with your friends for a while longer and I’ll cut you off when it’s time to go.” She was met with her brother’s middle finger.

She hung around the friends for another 20 minutes. Listening to the bullshit that came out of their mouths and watching their childish antics. It was hard to believe that these guys were meant to be big, bad bikers. Amalia soon grew sick of unwillingly watching her brother stick his tongue down his lady friend's throat and made her escape outside, fresh bottle of coke in hand.

The fire pit was still smouldering away even though no one was around to stoke it so she decided to settle on the old couch in front of it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she felt the couch dip beside her and turned to see Bishop making himself comfortable.

“We boring you in there?” He teased. Amalia laughed and shook her head.

“A Mayans party is anything but boring. However, there is only so much a gal can take when it comes to seeing her brother trying to ‘get down’ in the middle of it.”

Bishop let out a deep chuckle, “If you think that’s bad, you’ll hate what I have to say about this couch.”

She was taking a sip of her drink when he said it and almost choked as she laughed, “Please don’t ruin this couch for me.”

He held out his hands in surrender, “I’ll take it to the grave.”

Bishop took a long swig of his beer as the two sat in silence.

“You don’t have to sit here with me all night, Bish. Go entertain the troops.”

He turned to smile at her and shook his head, “Gotta make sure you don’t indulge in anything but coke. I hear you’re on sober driver duty.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of a saint.” She smirked, staring at the fire.

“EZ too? The kid hardly drinks when he’s behind the bar.” Bishop queried. Amalia had made her appearances at the club numerous times before, but it was never to sober drive. The guys would usually just crash on a nearby couch when they were wasted.

“True, but I don’t trust him to wake up on time tomorrow,” she explained, “We have an early morning thing with pop at the shop. Angel didn’t turn up last time and Pop didn’t talk to him for a week. I do not want to deal with a repeat of that.”

Bishop studied her side profile for a time, “At least one Reyes sibling has a couple of brain cells.”

She shot him a toothy grin, “It’s what I pride myself on.”

The older man took a final sip of his drink, leaving his bottle on the ground as he stood up and offered the Reyes sister his hand.

“C’mon, querida. Let’s go round up your brothers and send you on your way.” She looked up at him with a warm smile and hopeful look in her eyes, accepting his hand.

“Really? The nights still young, Bish. Don’t you need someone at the bar?” He shook his head at her question as he led her back to the clubhouse.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got someone else to take over.”

Amalia lightly squeezed his hand before dropping it, “You’re the best.”

Her statement was met with a nod and a wink, “I know.”

The heat hit the pair like a train as they made their way through the door and to the bar, Bishop getting EZ’s attention straight away.

“Prospect. You’re good here. Head out with your sister.”

Ez looked between the two, confused. Amalia’s nodding stopped him from questioning his president though and accepted without argument, “Uh- sure. A, you might need to work on Angel a bit.”

The three turned to where the oldest Reyes sibling was still standing at the pool table, now doing shots of tequila.

“Jesus Christ.” She muttered. That was going to be fun to put to bed, she thought as she walked over, dodging drunk members as she went, “Angel!” Yelling over the music, “Let’s go. You’re gonna want a decent sleep.”

Angel’s eyes met hers and he frowned, “Hell no. It’s barely 10!”

Before she could try to argue a rough hand gently squeezed at her bicep. Bishop.

“Get goin’, Angel.”

Angel’s gaze turned to one of disbelief, “Man, how the fuck d’you get Prez on your side, A?”

Amalia smiled cheekily, “I have my ways.”

To her absolute shock, Angel didn’t put up any further fight. Sharing a look with his president and throwing his head back, groaning dramatically, “Fine.”

He bid farewell to those around him, landing a final kiss on his arm candy’s lips and left toward the door, throwing his arm around EZ’s shoulders when he got there.

Amalia turned to Bishop in awe, “You know, I’ve been his sober driver many times and it has never been that easy. You’re a fucking miracle worker.”

Bishop gave her a small wink and placed his hand on her back to lead her out, “Sometimes you gotta pull rank, querida.”

He guided her the entire way out to her car where Angel was shoving EZ toward the back door, “Ain’t no way I’m getting in the backseat, little brother.”

She had to roll her eyes at the childish antics, some things never change.

“Well, Mr President,” she began, “thank you for your help tonight, and of course the company.”

Bishop grinned down at her, “Anytime, sweetheart. Drive safe. And don’t be a stranger.”

“Enjoy your night, Bishop.”

He reached out to give her arm a light squeeze before turning away with a final nod and a friendly smile. Making his way back to the party.

Amalia smiled at his back and walked around the car to get in her door.

“You better not be fucking him.”

“Angel!”

“Jesus Christ, Angel, no.”

She and EZ spoke over each other. Rolling her eyes, she started the car and began the short journey home.

Chapter Two

#mayans mc #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa #bishop losa fic #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa x oc #bring back bishop #angel reyes #ez reyes #mayans fx

[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…”

#ezekiel reyes x oc #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ez reyes x black!reader #ez reyes x black reader #mayans fx #fx mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #black!oc #angel reyes x black reader

[zaenight]

STORY MASTERLIST

Masterlist 2

MEET MY OC'S

ALL MY FANFICS CAN BE FOUND HERE

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Wattpad : zae-night

a03 : zae_night

tiktok : zaenighteditz

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HIS DOWN BITCH , HER CHOLO (COMPLETED)

ch1 ch5 ch9

Ch2 Ch6 ch10

ch3 ch7 ch11

ch4 ch8 ch12

HIS GIRL // JOSÉ MARQUEZ (COMPLETED)

ch1 ch7

ch2 ch8

ch3 ch9

ch4 ch10

ch5 ch11

ch6 ch12

MAMA DIDN'T RAISE NO BITCHES // Ez reyes x oc , Nestor octeva x oc

ACT 1

ch1

ch2

ch3

ch4

Crazy but she's mine // Ez reyes x Oc(COMPLETED)

ch1 ch5 ch9. ch13 ch17 ch21

ch2 ch6 ch10 ch14 ch18 ch22

ch3 ch7. ch11 ch15 ch19 ch23

ch4 Ch8. ch12 ch16 ch20 ch24

The dragon and her knight // Bellamy blake

ACT 1

ch1(263 yrs ago)

ch2. ch7 ch12

ch3. ch8. ch13

ch4. ch9. ch14

ch5. ch10. ch15

ch6. ch11

WANHEDA COMMANDER OF DEATH // BRANDON CARVER

Act1 | Act2 | act3

ch1. | ch1 | ch1

ch2. | ch2 | ch2

ch3. | ch3 | ch3

ch4 | ch4 | ch4

ch5 | ch5 |

ch6 | ch6 |

| ch7 |

READ ALL ABOUT IT // BROOKE DAVIS(ONE TREE HILL FIC)

act 1

Ch1

ch2

ch3

#masterlist #wattpad #fanfic #original character #alex meraz #oc x oc ship #mayans mc #the 100 #bellamy blake #ez reyes fanfiction #jenna ortega #emmy rossum #jd pardo #bob morely #emilia clarke #eliza taylor morley #j.d pardo #ez reyes #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans #emily deschanel #zooey deschanel #hayden romero #violet mcgraw #madeleine mcgraw #nestor oceteva

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

This Hurts Like Hell

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three |Chapter Four |Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty- One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty | Chapter Thirty-One | Chapter Thirty-Two | Chapter Thirty-Three | Chapter Thirty-Four | Chapter Thirty-Five | Chapter Thirty-Six | Thirty-Seven | Thirty-Eight | Chapter Thirty-Nine | Chapter Forty | Chapter Forty-One || Chapter Forty-Two || Forty-Three || Forty-Four

Angels POV

“Hey Pops” I call out as I walk into the house, kicking my boots off at the back door. I grab two beers out of the fridge and head into the lounge. Handing one to Ez as I take a seat.

“You left before talking to me”

“Yeah well, I’m not really in a talking mood” Ez says, taking a swing of his beer.

“What happened with Charlie today?” I ask, picking at the label on the bottle.

Ez purses his lips, his jaw set in a hard line “she’s fine” he growls.

“What happened?” Pop asks, his voice dripping with concern.

“Nothing” Ez retorts, leaning back in the chair, glaring at me.

“Didn’t look like nothin, she was barely conscious when you dragged her inside”

Pop studies his face fixing him with a glare “what is going on at the clubhouse?” Do I need to be worried?”

“Everything is fine, Pops,” Ez says.

“Don’t worry about it. Charlie is fine. Everything's gonna be okay” I tell Pops while taking a swing of my beer. Ez gives me a death stare over his bottle.

Silence fills the room as Ez changes the conversation to Pops asking about his day. Their voices fade out as my thoughts drift to Charlie. Watching Ez bring her in today, half conscious, I haven’t seen her in months, she is starting to look healthy, finally looking better, but I can’t help but feel guilty knowing that me and my choices are why she is like this. I'm the reason why she’s stuck, why she’s trapped in the clubhouse. I just want all of this to be over. I finish my beer mutter, a goodbye to Ez and Pops, barely noticing them as I leave my thoughts solely on Charlie the ride back to mine.

I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders and the ache pushing down on my bones, crushing me. Pulling into my place, I head inside, stripping off the clothes as soon as the door is locked behind me. Heading into the bathroom I turn the shower on as hot as it will go.

Stepping under the spray, I feel the heat rising through my skin, my body broken, bruised, the hot water stings at the burns across my side and my back. The new skin is red and angry but the pain is what keeps me going, reminds me I am alive, and while I don’t deserve it, I have things to live for. Resting my head on the cool tiles I let the hot water soothe the deep ache inside of me. Everything hurts all of the time and I don’t know how to fix it.

I don’t know how long I stay like that, time is irrelevant these days. I feel the heat dying out of the water, and the start of the cold water licking at the flames across my skin. I climb out of the shower, quickly drying off, my eyes automatically fall to where the mirror used to be, now there's just a blank spot on the wall. I rub the medical cream onto my burns, and head into the bedroom, climbing under the sheets. I press my face into the pillow and pray that sleep comes quickly and is peaceful but knowing I don’t deserve it.

...

Smoke fills the room, burning my nostrils and my only thoughts are getting to you. My ears are ringing and my vision is blurred but I can make out Tranq calling my name, I pull out my .38 and stumble. Gunfire starts and Charlie is all I can think about, I turn around seeing flames, I push through the haze and start moving towards the stairs, to you.

“I have no idea how any of this happened Angel” Tranq says from behind me, I turn my head and see his bulky frame, in the smoke.

“Thank fuck you’re okay” I say as he pulls me behind a bookcase, gunfire rampant around me.

“We have to go, there’s an escape route through the woods” Tranq says trying to pull me towards the backdoors.

“I’m not leaving without Charlie” I tell him

“She'll be fine. Sabella will get her out, but we need to go” urgency fills his voice as the gunfire starts again “we have to tell Bishop what happened”

“I have to get Charlie” I say trying to push him off me.

but he rips me back, pushing me up against the wall. We hear voices coming towards us, Tranq and I both hold our guns and aim towards the voices. Once they become clear, we both take a shot. One of them hits the floor, the other starts firing back.

Tranq pulling me back, heading towards the back of the house, pushing open the back door fresh fills my lungs. I am so grateful for the fresh air. Tranq is still pulling me along, something feels wrong, the air isn’t coming in fast enough and I’m so hot. I stumble, almost falling, and then I feel it.

The most intense heat I’ve ever felt in my life crawling at my skin. I turned my head backwards to realise that somehow my shirt and cut are on fire.

“Fuck” I scream Tranq spins around looking at me and notices the flames.

He pushes me to the ground, rolling me on my back trying to get them out. I can feel him hitting my legs.The heat is still crawling at my skin when Tranq starts dragging me across the ground.

“Come on Angel, I need you to get up, we gotta move brother” His voice is so far away, and I feel tired.

The sound of gunfire getting louder throughout the house pulls me back and I jump to my feet. Adrenaline coursing through me and we run.

Pain hits my shoulder, and I try not to scream. I grunt and I keep running once we are in the forest. I follow Tranq.

It’s dark and I can barely see in front of me, but the sounds of gunfire have stopped but I can still smell the smoke. It’s covered every inch of me, after about a mile Tranq pulls me off to the side, he kicks at a pile of leaves as I lean against a tree trying to catch my breath, pain in every part of my body. I feel death hovering around, ready to take me at any moment. Tranq has pulled open a metal door hidden from the world.

“It’s a bunker” Tranq says “come on” I just nod as i feel him pulling me then pushing me down the bunker stairs. I don’t know how my feet are moving, all I can feel is the pain. my eyes grow heavy. “I think I got shot” is the last thing I remember saying and then darkness

I wake in a cold sweat, rubbing my eyes. I try to sit up but the sheet has stuck to my side. I gently pull it off, wincing fresh skin peels off too.

Reaching for my phone, I see a text from an unknown number.

“I need you. It's time” it reads, sent three hours ago.

Shit I think to myself as I jump out of bed, racing to get dressed. My son is coming, it's time.

#mayans mc #mayansfx #mayans #mayans imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes x reader #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fan fiction #i wrote this #this hurts like hell #ez reyes

[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.” 

#OC Cyn #OC Cynalena Reyes #OC Cynalena #Mayans MC #Mayans FX #mayans fanfic #Mayans mc fanfic #Angel Reyes #EZ Reyes #Reyes Sibling #Reyes Sister #Angel x OC #EZ x OC #angel reyes x oc #ez reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x oc #nestor oceteva x oc #nestor oceteva

[narcolini]

for brothers, pt. 3

angel reyes x oc: tatiana ‘pidge’ clarke, hurt/comfort, 2358 words

for day 10 of whumpril : shivers & ‘i’m scared’

a/n: omg i knOW i know. i know i said the last one was just an extra scene/epilogue but now theres another part and kjSHFgj`hfg its fine. its fine. the fic is sentient. thanku to @cositapreciosa for prompting this

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @darqchilddaydreamz​

Tati’s shaking when she finally finds the courage to knock, stood on Angel’s doorstep at God know’s what time. Not from fear, but from the cold that’s sunk itself beneath her skin, gripped the bones like a vice. She shouldn’t have left without a coat, shouldn’t have abandoned the Jeep three miles down the road. She shouldn’t be doing any of this at all.

He takes a minute to answer. She stares at the chipped paint in front of her, hearing him shuffle behind, before light finally tips out into the night. He’s got the door open just enough to see who it is, and his arm's tucked back behind his shoulder, gun in hand. She knows to expect it.

‘Woah. Shit, Tati.’ He swings the door open, stepping in front of it. He’s half dressed: jeans, a-tank, handgun. ‘You okay?’

‘No, not really,’ she answers, not bothering with pretences. He’s knows her well enough to know she’s not from looks alone. Her teeth are chattering between the words. ‘Can I come in?’

He hesitates, just long enough to make her feel real shitty about herself, real stupid and careless, and selfish for showing up here, for letting her feet carry her here on autopilot, but then he nods. Steps aside. Lets her in without any judgement at all—well, with only a hint of it.

He locks the door behind her, leaves the gun on the side table. ‘You couldn’t call or something?’

She scans the room. Dark, minus a lamp in the corner and the glow from the muted TV. Warm, too. Like he’s had a fire lit, but that’s just her. Just the difference of being in here and not out there, with the cold that’s chilled her so thoroughly. There’s a throw along the floor by the couch, thrown off, no doubt, at her arrival.

‘Were you asleep?’ she asks, forgetting he had wanted an answer out of her first.

‘Nah, I was just… I was up, yeah, watching TV and shit.’

Couldn’t sleep either, then. Probably as worried as she is, though he’d never admit it unless he had to. Unless he was having a fucking panic attack and she just happened to be there when he did. Vulnerability was the one thing that didn’t survive their break-up, a sacrifice that she didn’t used to mind. Now, she wants to ask how his chest feels, how the anxiety sits beneath his ribcage. If it weighs the same as her’s does, if it makes him do dumb shit like walking around in the middle of the night. If it’s even there at all.

‘Sorry, I should’ve called, you’re right.’ She nods, pulling her arms into herself. He may as well know the truth of it, the order of bad decisions that led to her being here. ‘I got, I don’t know, freaked out, and I just had to go for a drive or something. Couldn’t sit inside anymore. But then the jeep reminded me of EZ, and I kept picturing him there, in the back. The blood.’ She gulps. ‘Really fucking crazy shit, man.’

Angel walks past as she explains, then bends to hook the throw with his fingers and bring it up from the floor. Not to put it back on the couch, she realises, but to put it over her shoulders instead. No comment, no disruption to her story. Just the blanket around her, a tight-lipped smile, and then a sigh as he drops into the couch afterwards.

‘I pulled up at a gas station and left it there,’ she continues. ‘Walked around a bit and then, I don’t know. I realised I was walking here and I’d come too far to turn around again, and it was so fucking cold that I just thought—’

‘It’s cool, Tati,’ he interrupts, dragging it out. ‘I’m not mad’

‘But it’s not fair for me to just show up like this.’

‘So? None of anything we’ve seen this week has been fair.’

Not exactly true, though, is it? Because EZ started the shit with Yuma, but she can’t say that to him now.

When she doesn’t reply, he rolls his eyes and gestures to the seat behind her. ‘Will you just sit down, Pidge, we’re past all this shit. You know I’m here for you.’

She does as he says, landing with a thud. ‘Still feel like shit about it, though.’ If she had anyone else to go to, she would, but it’s just him. Especially at this hour.

He laughs, rubbing a palm over his brow. ‘Yeah, likewise. You think it feels good every time I need you for something?’

No, but she doesn’t mind helping. It’s the only thing that brings them together anymore. Besides, he’s yet to show up at her place in the middle of the night, shivering and desperate for it. Who knows how she’d feel then, how disrupted sleep would shape itself in he. She might not be generous at all, if roles were reverse. She might not wrap him in her blanket and let him babble about his night unprovoked.

‘You want a coffee?’ he asks, leaning his elbows on his knees. ‘A sweater?’

She nods. ‘Both would be good.’ She’d never have asked for them herself.

When he’s back, with two coffees and a hoody that smells like him, she’s finally starting to warm up. The extra layers and the caffeine does more than she expected them too. She’s no longer shivering, no longer doubting her right to be here, to come to him, no longer focusing on the tightness of her breath. If it’s not them, it’s him. His company has drawn the chill out and put her head straight again.

He’s sitting opposite her now, looking the same as he had when she arrived. Tired, indifferent, lived-in like she’s seen a thousand times before. If you went back a year, this is how it always was. Angel tired, worn through from the day, and Tati awake, just to be awake with him.

‘You gonna tell me what it is then,’ he says, resting the mug on his thigh. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen you worked up enough to go walking round, freezing your ass off. Not since that Potter bullshit, anyway.’

Not since the DEA had a target on Angel’s back and she was helpless to it. Just like now, really. Different shooter, same victim.

‘What’s got you so spooked?’ he asks, insistent on it now, and nudging the hesitance out of her.

‘Honestly,’ she pauses, incase she changes her mind last minute, and tucks the confession back to bed, before deciding, no, fuck it. She is, and she’ll tell him. ‘I’m scared, Angel. Like, really fucking scared.’

He frowns, which isn’t the reaction she was expecting. She didn’t think he’d crumble, obviously, or rush over to comfort her, but she expected more than that at least. More than brows tucked together and a squint like he can’t make her out.

‘The shit with EZ, Yuma. You.’ She forces a breath. ‘It’s freaking me out.’

‘But why?’ he asks. ‘None of this is new to you.’

She scoffs, yeah, that she’s aware of. It’s been years since she had the right to be surprised, or overly concerned, about club business. But this is different. Because they’re different.

‘Before, if something happened to you…’ She puts her hands to her face, fingertips against her temples then combing through her hair. ‘Fuck, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like I’m saying something I’m not.’

His lips pull down around the mouthful of coffee he’s just taken, a grimace, almost, as he swallows. ‘You wanna translate that for me?’ he says afterwards, nervous humour in his voice. ‘The fuck does that mean?’

He expects her to laugh back, probably, to tell him to engage his brain for once, but the words are already fighting through the lump in her throat. Now’s not the time to waste them with jokes, or bickering. Whatever the fuck it is they do now.

‘If something happened to you,’ she explains, slowly, ‘like, right now.’ She gulps, and the more she speaks, the more she’s sure she shouldn’t—but there it goes, out of her lips anyway. ‘I don’t know that I wouldn’t spend my whole life regretting how we left things. How we’re leaving things.’

He looks down, away from her, like the woven rug beneath his feet is calling his name. She carries on like she hasn’t noticed. Don’t read into it, Pidge. It’s too late to go back now.

‘I’m not saying we should get together again. Or assuming you’d even…God. I don’t know.’ It’s not making any more sense now she’s putting it out there, a voice to the thoughts that’ve been tormenting her all week. If anything, it’s just tightening their grip on her, stirring the worry into a real threat. ‘It just feels different now, and it scares me.’

She waits for a nod, a reaction. He doesn’t move.

‘I can’t stop thinking about wasted time,’ she admits.

He snorts then, so sudden that it’s a surprise to both. ‘Wasting what? I see you all the time, Tati. We’re, y’know.’ He shrugs. ‘We’re good.’

‘Are we?’

‘Are we not?’

He isn’t getting it. Or maybe she’s the one not getting it. Maybe the only thing stopping her from saying that she would want to fix things, to get back together, is the self-awareness that she shouldn’t. Can’t. Won’t, until he gives any sign that he’s thinking it too.

‘Let’s just leave it,’ she says, falling into the cushion behind. ‘I’m clearly not thinking straight.’

Clearly, the shock of their rescue mission, of EZ half dead and bloodied, has taken a week to hit her, caught up at last and pushed her off the rails—straight into Angel’s easy-lounger. She doesn’t want to be with him—it doesn’t work, didn’t work—she just can’t face losing him, either. That’s all it is. If the worst happens, she doesn’t want to have forfeited her right to mourn.

Angel sighs, leaning back as she had, in his own seat on the couch. His arm goes up behind his head, face pointed to the ceiling. Thinking, hopefully, running desperate through his rationale the way she is. ‘You know, for once, Pidge, I actually think you should keep talking.’

She snorts. ‘Let me guess, so I can bore you to sleep?’

‘Nah.’ He rocks his head—a shake without any of the effort—and ignores her sarcasm completely. ‘So I can understand,’ he says. ‘You know I don’t think about stuff like this. Just block it out and keep shit moving.’

‘Yeah, maybe I should try that.’ Her method hasn’t helped tonight. It’s only made things worse, made her problem, his. ‘I don’t even know what I’m saying,’ she admits. ‘I’m just so fucking scared of regretting things. I don’t want to regret this,’ she points between him and herself, though he isn’t watching, ‘but I know that we don’t work.’

There’s a mark still, invisible but printed around them both. They had gotten worse and worse; bickering, arguing, fighting until they hated each other. It’s been six months now, and it only just starting to fade. Only loosening enough for moments like these.

‘Well, you must know something I don’t,’ he jokes, ‘cause I’m really not seeing the problem.’

‘Yuma,’ she stresses. ‘That shit isn’t just gonna go away, Angel.’

‘Not that part. The you fucking regretting this, part.’ He looks up at last, head lifting from the back of the couch to catch her gaze. ‘Does it look like I’m going anywhere? Shit, does it look like I want you to either? Whatever we got going on, it’s as much as a relationship as it was before.’

‘Angel.’

‘I’m serious.’ A smile creeps onto his features, eyes alight with the joke before he’s even said it. ‘You think I have time to get another girl while you’re still all up in my shit?’

Tati laughs, against her will, but it helps. ‘Asshole.’

‘Like, you really are cramping my style, Pidge.’

‘Okay, stop it. I’m fragile.’ But smiling, somehow, and then the laugh drops into a sigh, and the point of it—the actual point of what he said—comes back like a freight train. He’s not going anywhere. He doesn’t want her to either, regardless of where things stand.

‘Fuck,’ she breathes. He’s made her cry, somehow, but she can lie to herself and say that it’s not him, it’s the night she’s had. It’s the Jeep at the gas station, it’s the blanket round her shoulders and the almost-dead, almost-brother, and not Angel, that’s brought the wet to her eyes. ‘God, I hate this. ’

There’s a gap beside him on the couch, under his bent elbow, and he invites her to it, flicking his chin. ‘Come here,’ he says, soft, familiar. Too late into the night to care about their boundaries. ‘Gonna make me fucking depressed, watching you cry and shit.’

She snorts, standing and bringing her bundle of comforts with her. ‘That was my plan all along,’ she replies, barely managing the sarcasm. ‘Gotta drag you down with me.’

‘Yeah, real sweet.’

His arm drops as she does, settling around her shoulders, as she settles around him. Cheek to his chest, arm threaded between his waist and the cushions. As normal as it used to be. One thing less to regret.

‘You wanna crash here?’ he asks, thumb smoothing over her arm. ‘I’ll take the couch. Drop you back at your car in the morning.’

She should say no, but there are worse things she could do. And he’s warm, warmer than she has been all night, hot beneath her like he’s running a fever.

‘Are you sure?’

He tuts. ‘Man, if you make me beg, I’m taking it back. You can walk your ass right back to where you came from, Tatiana.’

‘Alright,’ she laughs, ‘fine. Thank-you. I’ll take it.’

There are worse things she can do, there are worse things that could happen.

>>> bonus scene

#angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes #mayans mc fanfic #whumpril2023 #tati pidge #the way im gonna have to go rename the last one and my links KjSHFKGJH #theyre living in my brain #a land grab

[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.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x oc #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes x oc #ez reyes fanfic #ezekiel reyes fanfic #ezekiel reyes imagine #remind me #multichapter #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[artemiseamoon]

If This Is Our Destiny 2

Past! Angel x F reader ** | Future? Manny x F reader **

⚠️Warnings: flashback to the night of the attack, some anxiety,  Angel Reyes 🙄

** woc/black/bipoc f readers to the front bbs. Anyone can read tho. You can image her as an OC ‘Princesa’ as well if that’s your preference 😁 many options to choose from.

An: I’ve never really been into the idea of someone calling me ‘mama’ or ‘ma’ but only one man can now (jeez thanks Rio) 

Fic info || previous || next

Gif credit to the owners 💕

- Flashback, 2 months prior -

You close your eyes and take a slow deep breath. After a few seconds, you return to lighting the candles. Looking across the way, you notice all the guys are around the pool table, taking stock of ammo and guns.

Bishop eyes the supply. “You gonna burn through these boxes in 30 seconds.”

Turning around, your eyes scan the bottles on the shelves, you have an idea. Grabbing two from the shelf, you turn back and place them on the counter.  “How about fire with fire?”

Angel, Ez and Bish all turn back and look at you. Bish nods, “yeah.”

- Flashback over -

“Hey ma, you good?” You come back to the present moment and find Manny leaning over the counter, those deep brown eyes observing you. His voice washes over you like a smooth drink. “You wiped that glass down three times, where’d you go?”

“Oh, sorry. “

You put the glass and towel down. After a quick scan of the room, you confirm you and Manny are alone. He’s still leaning over the counter, eyes fixed on you.

Dropping your voice to a whisper, you move closer to him, “Since the attack, sometimes I have these moments. Bits and pieces of it come back. I think I’m still processing it.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Shit,” you rub your forehead, “is it that obvious?”

“Nah,” Manny shakes his head, “the first time you live through some shit like that, it’s hard to shake. Be easy with yourself.”

You smile, “thanks Manny.”

“You know I got you,” He stands upright and straightens out his shirt and kutte, “it's late Princesa. How you gettin’ home?”

You’ve developed a habit of getting lost in his eyes. It was too easy to become distracted by Manny: his voice, the way he held himself, those eyes, his long dark eyelashes, his lips, his cheekbones, his jawline, even the little silver stud in his left nostril…Manny was a work of art.

It’s not until you see a smile dance on his lips that you realize how long you’ve been staring. Pulling yourself together, you reach under the bar and grab your bag and jacket. "My car is still in the shop, so I’ll call a cab.”

You slip your jacket on then scan the bar once. It was clean enough. You thought the Santo Padre guys were messy, but the Yuma chapter took messy to a new level; it was like clearing up after a bunch of frat boys. Rude, handsy, disrespectful frat boys at that.

You thankfully had less incidents than the other women, thanks to a mix of kicking one in the balls and Angel and Ez coming to your defense. They nearly beat those guys to death, the post drama aside, most of the Yuma dudes backed off after that.

The only other incident happened a week and a half ago. You were bending over to pick something up off the floor and felt a greedy hand grab at you. Manny walked in just as it happened and ripped the asshole away from you. Chapter brother or not, he made it clear, you weren’t to be touched.

You flash Manny a smile, “I’m so glad you’re not like the others, seriously. I’ll be right back.”

You make a quick stop at the crappy excuse of a bathroom. After washing and drying your hands, you order a car and head toward the front door. You hear some hushed voices in Templo as you pass, it’s Bishop and Hank.

This is the third late night Manny walked you out. It was sweet, and as long as Angel wasn't around, you'd let him do it as much as he pleases. As you both descend the stairs, Manny makes an offer, “You know what, forget the cab. I’ll drop you off.”

“Yeah?” You ask with a smirk.

The idea of riding on Manny's bike while you hold him has crossed your mind many times. You were never bold enough to ask though…then there was Angel…he’d freak the fuck out if he ever saw that. The times you caught him watching you and Manny, it was like a blood vessel was going to burst any second.

“That is way better than a cab, I’ll take you up on it.”

Manny’s eyes light up at the sight of your smile. After a second or two, Manny sits on the bike and starts it up. He hands you the helmet, “come on ma.”

Riding on the back of Manny’s bike is exactly how you imagined. He feels good. This feels good. It’s like you were meant to be here. Hold him tight, head resting comfortably against his shoulder as you ride. You want this to last forever.

Somewhere near the halfway point of reaching your place, that ghost you can’t shake pops into your mind and suddenly you remember how it felt with Angel. You blink the thought away almost as fast as it comes. Not tonight. You wouldn’t let Angel Reyes haunt you tonight.

When you arrive at your apartment, Manny parks the bike and walks you to your door. You fiddle with your keys, knowing what you want to ask, but not sure if you should ask it. You lower your gaze, trying to figure out just how bold you were feeling.

Manny leans against the wall, “About that night,” you look up, fixing your eyes on his, “I didn’t know you were in there. Shit, “he shakes his head and stares past you, “I think about it you know. You could have been hurt…or worse.”

You grab his forearm. “Hey, we didn’t know each other Manny. I don’t blame you for that. It was inner club shit and I happened to be inside while it went down.” You give his arm a light squeeze.  “How was I supposed to know we’d meet.”

The guilt in his eyes is quickly replaced by something else, something lighter, more relaxed. The moment that smile returns to his lips, your heart beats faster. In his normal chill demeanor, Manny relaxes further against the wall, “Yeah, you're right.”

“I am.” You reply and squeeze his arm once more before letting him go.

Manny watches you lift your hand, then his eyes float back up to yours. Feeling a surge of confidence, you soon say the words that have been lingering on your lips. Sure, you spend a lot of time thinking about the consequences of this, but you want this, you want Manny. And all his flirting, sexy smiles, lingering glances, the way he gently touches your arm and shoulder; it all tells you he feels the same.

“Um, so - “you pause, breathing into it, “would you like to come in?”

You wait for a yes, it doesn't come.

The night suddenly feels too quiet. Like it’s taunting you for being so forward and reckless. You notice the tension in his brows, he’s thinking something, but not saying it.

“Sorry, never mind. Thank you for the ride though.” You turn to your door quickly and put the key in. When you hear the click, you push it open and rush inside.

“Wait, hold up, “Manny follows you inside and closes the door gently behind him.

Still not looking back at him, you hang your keys on the hook and flip on the lights.

“Manny, really, it’s fine. Just forget it happened.” You talk with your hands, walking toward the kitchen to get away from him. You hope he’ll turn and leave, then you can sit with your embarrassment alone.

“Nah, hold up,” Manny catches up and gently grabs your hand. You don’t pull away, instead you turn to face him, “I’m feelin' you, Ma,” Manny holds your hand tighter, his eyes soft on yours, “but, you and Angel, that's gotta be done. For real.”

“We are.” You stare up at him, feeling confused. “We’ve been done for months.”

Manny doesn’t say anything. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he wants to believe you, he really does, but doesn’t. The sweet free feeling of being on his bike is now gone. The air in your apartment suddenly feels thin.

“Did,” you take your hand away, “did he say anything to you?”

Manny gently lifts your chin with his fingers, your eyes meet his, “he may have a different idea of being done Princesa.”

“Fuck,” you break eye contact. Manny gently caresses your cheek, then takes his hand away.

You cross your arms and pace, anger building in your body, imagining all the shit Angel could have said in your mind. Angel Reyes imploded things; he blew shit up. He had a real talent for it. Sadly, this isn't the first time you heard something like this.

Manny stands behind you and rests his hand on your left shoulder, “I’m going to head out. Unless you want me to sit with you for a while?”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh and face him, “go home. It’s really late.”

You couldn’t be mad at him; Manny was looking out for himself and didn’t want to get involved in anything messy. You and Angel were the definition of messy and you’ve been trying your hardest to change that.

“You gonna be alright?” Manny asks, drawing you into a hug. You relax against him, taking in his scent and the way he feels.

You close your eyes. “I’ll survive.”

The hug lingers for a while longer. You don’t want to let go, Manny doesn’t either. When the hug finally breaks you miss it already. You walk him to the door and wait until he rides off to go back inside.

It takes 23 minutes. 23 minutes and 11 seconds before you give in and send a text. You were fuming by this time and what comes out of you is a brick wall of a text; a purge of sharp words and every curse you could think of. It feels good, it feels really fucking good. Until you read it over. Then, you feel defeated.

Even after leaving his ass for the 2nd time almost 4 months ago, he still had a hold on you. Enough of a hold to make you a rage filled teary-eyed mess as you texted him. It was supposed to be easier four months out, right?

Though you hated him right now, you did care about him, loved him, loved his family. Angel was maybe the most damaged person you know, and you had to remind yourself, love or not, history or not, it wasn’t your job to fix him or soothe his wounds. You delete the very honest, very scathing text and write something else.

{You: We need to talk. Free tomorrow?}

Three dots appear instantly, it makes you wonder if he felt you texting him. You two had a weird ass connection like that. The three dots linger a while, with his new name in your phone, ‘do not text’

{Angel: is this your stubborn ass way of asking me to come over?}

You roll your eyes and almost smile, almost.

{You: No. I mean talk, literally.}

Three dots appear, then vanish.

{You: Tomorrow, I’ll stop by. Around 8? Just please wait for your groupie sex fest until after I leave. I don’t need to see that shit.}

{Angel: It could be me and you, querida, like old times.}

You write something, delete it, then pause. He doesn’t write either. You put your phone down beside you on the bed and rub your face with your hands. Your phone buzzes.

[Angel: fuck this texting shit, I’m coming over.}

“Oh my god,” panicking, you quickly type telling him not to come. Then you dial his number and call. He doesn’t pick up. Knowing Angel, he was likely on his bike, speeding over here right now.

Your suspicion is right, a knock arrives at your door only 21 minutes later. You don’t want to open the door, but you know him, he’s obnoxious and will knock until you do.

When you open the door, the first thing you notice is how tired he is. He leans against the doorframe and stares down at you. It’s near impossible to look away, the tall strong figure you knew so well, that beard you love, those tattoos: he’s even wearing the backward cap and sleeveless t-shirt combo you loved. Asshole, he did this on purpose.

Angel’s hungry gaze moves over your form, then lingers on your bare legs. “You put that one on for me?” He asks with a smirk.

You glance down and realize what shirt you’re wearing. It was a simple, oversized band tee. The shorts you have on underneath are hidden by the length. When you changed your clothes, you just pulled one out without looking. It was Angel's favorite too.

“It’s for me,” you grip the handle tighter, “I told you not to come over.”

Angel shrugs, “ phone died.”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s lying and try to close the door. Angel blocks it, steps inside, then closes it behind him. He smells like beer, cigarettes and leather.

“Angel -”

“I knew you missed me, I could tell by the way you look at me from the bar, all heart eyes and shit.”

“You’re delusional. And an asshole.”

You head toward him with the intention of opening the front door. As you pass him, Angel grabs your arm and slips his free hand behind your head. Before you can protest, Angel leans in and crashes his lips against yours.

With wide eyes you watch him kiss you. You can feel your body reacting, despite telling it not too. You always loved the way it feels, being pressed beneath him.

Your hands are flat against his chest now, for a brief moment you slide them down, feeling his muscles. Your eyes start to close, you almost give in - almost.

You push him away with a shove and step back, putting distance between your bodies. Your heart is pounding now, you take a moment to catch your breath. Angel’s kisses, just like the rest of him, were sinfully seductive and addictive. One taste has the power to regress all the work you’ve done.

You don't want that. You want better. You need better.

Angel responds as expected to the rejection. He steps back, doing that thing he does with his head when he’s pissed. “Yo what the fuck?!”

“We don’t kiss!” You bark at him. “Angel, we are not a couple, we’re not lovers…we’re not even friends right now. You can’t pull shit like that!” You take another step back and cross your arms, shielding your body from him.

Angel sucks his teeth and brushes you off.

“That’s really fucking rude, you know that right?”

“Shit, like you care. "Angel hissed venomously. He paces at the other end of the hall.  “You fucking broke up with me, remember?” Angel walks away and heads into your kitchen.

I can’t fucking believe this guy. Cursing under your breath, you follow him inside and find him opening your fridge, his back toward you.

“You fucking confusing you know that?”

You can barely believe what you’re hearing. “ME? How the fuck am I confusing, Angel? I’ve stayed away from you for months! I don’t text you, even when you text me. We only see each other at the clubhouse. I ignored your late-night drunk calls. How the fuck am I confusing?”

With fast angry steps, you storm toward the fridge and slam it shut before he can grab anything. The act of aggression surprises him, he takes a step back and stares at you.

Your body is almost shaking with anger now. The tense expression on his face melts to something else, amusement. He chuckles and leans into the nearby counter.

“You cute when you’re all pissed off and shit.”

“Oh my god.” you take a deep breath and rest your hands on your hips, “everything's a joke, isn’t it?”

“Not everything.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles. When you don’t, he leans over and smiles wider, “come on, where is it?”

He’s not going to ease it out of you, even though he almost does. You keep control of your expression. The bastard was charming. And this has worked in the past. But you don’t want to get stuck there, you want to move toward the future. A future that might have Manny as part of it. You step around to the other side of the counter and rest your hands on the surface, trying to sort your thoughts.

“Querida,” Angel walks over to you and grabs your shoulder.

“Don’t call me that.” You lift his hand and move a few steps away.

Angel stays where he is and lowers his head, “You know what I was doin' when you texted?”

You raise a brow, “Fucking your problems away?”

Angel chuckles, “naw. I was layin' on the couch, watching that shitty Novela. The one you used to watch with me. I had me thinkin' about you and shit…. about us…about tryin' again.” The vulnerability in his eyes almost melts your heart. But you stay strong. “How's that shit go…third times a charm or whatever? Don’t you wanna see if that's true?”

The weight of this words plus spending all day on your feet hits you all at once. You go to the table and sink into the chair closest to the window. Angel doesn’t say anything, he alternates between staring down at his feet and you.

You take a breath, exhale, then speak, “If we ever find our way to each other again, Angel, it will be as friends. Just friends. Remember that? I miss that version of us. Everything was so easy. So uncomplicated.”

Angel rubs the back of his neck, eyes cast down. You know if he could, he would light a cigarette right now. But he seems respectful of your no-smoking rule. Eventually, he mutters, “I fuckin miss you. This shits got me all fucked up. You think this is easy?” He glances over at you from under his brows.

“For you? Easier. You just drink, smoke and fuck to bury it.”

He scoffs, “It’s not even like that, not all the time. You don’t see all the times I go home alone or fucking drive out to the middle of nowhere just to clear my head. The shit never works by the way.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Angel.”

“I gotta see you every week, without being with you. Don’t get me started on those Yuma motherfuckers. Flirting with you and shit, like I’m not even there. Especially that skinny fuck with the stupid neck tattoo…his ass properly making friendship bracelets with Ez right now.” He shakes his head.

You suppress a laugh and store away the ‘i miss you’ you can't handle that right now.  “You jealous? Ez can have friends you know.”

Angel pulls out the chair across from you and sits with a dramatic sigh. You stare at each other in silence.

You speak first, “I wish you didn’t come over. I had a long ass day and this -" you pause and rub the bridge of your nose, “let’s just do this then.” You open your eyes, “I hope one day we can be friends again; I would like that. But I could never be your girl again, ever. We tried and each time it failed. I don't want to be that person who keeps going back to a fucked situation.”

He’s quiet, eerily quiet. His brown eyes are heavy with pain, anger, and something you can’t name.

“I’ve been hearing you telling people we’re together or hinting at it. You can’t do that. I’m not property. I’m not yours. I was going to ask what you’re telling people but honestly, I’m way too tired Angel. I can’t even - “

He abruptly pushes back in the chair and stands. Cursing under his breath, he glares down at you. “I fucking knew it. Who is he?”

Your eyes locked on his, you lean over the table, “my personal life is no longer any of your business, Angel. You are not allowed to ask that.”

When you don’t back down, he kicks the chair. You rise to your feet.

“No! That is not happening here, you are not breaking my furniture. Go, leave!” You point to direction of the door.

He’s got the look of a wild animal now, chest heaving. He takes a step back, then another. Angel turns and leaves the apartment; you hear the door close behind him followed by his bike roaring up the street.

…

The next morning

Tired isn’t enough to describe how you feel right now. Your eyes float over to the closed door of Templo, they’ve been in there for a while now. Manny arrived at the early end, though he said good morning and greeted you with his usual smile he felt distant.

Angel barreled in on the border of being late, he walked in without acknowledging you, which was fine, you didn’t want to look at him either. You try to keep yourself busy and focus on getting through the day.

When the meeting ends, the door slides open, and members start to refill the room. Some make their way to the bar, and you start putting a few beers on the counter. Your eyes follow the Reyes brothers as they walk out and through the front door, followed by Manny.

The new hire, whose name you refuse to remember, also Angel’s newest poor coping habit, rushes through the door.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. My alarm - “

Narrowing your eyes at her, you step back as she walks behind the bar. “I’m taking a break.” You say and leave her.

Stepping outside, you linger off to the side and watch as a black van pulls up before Ez, Angel and Manny. A man gets out with a middle-aged white guy with a ton of luggage. The scene before you becomes even more bizarre when you notice a kid. When the door opens again, you duck back inside and head to the bar.

When Manny, Ez and Angel don’t return, a knot forms in your stomach. It’s likely Alvarez sent them on a job. Everything was already tense and though your mind doesn’t want to go there, you feel yourself thinking the worst. What if your name came up? What if Manny and Angel had a confrontation?

Working on autopilot, you hand off a few more drinks and hope for the best.

Next

Tags? Ask below

Taglist so far: @obsessedasusual @mrsmontanalol @okimreadynow @po3ticb3auty @minordeffects @rosey1981 @bugngiz @bport76 @90sisthenew80s @kaykaysuh

#Angel Reyes #manny Mayans #Mayans Mc #mayans fic #manny x reader #angel reyes x f reader #fic: if this is our destiny #black reader #woc reader

[the-wandering-lunatic]

There's going to be a bit of space between updates for Scars Remain at the moment. I run my own small business and have to attend to orders and inventory. I will update as I can! I've gotten everyone from the comments into a tag list, and I'm working on creating a masterlist link so all fics are easy to locate and keep track of for you all!

I'm beyond thrilled to be writing again. The enthusiasm shown for this fic so far has been heartwarming to say the least!

I'll also be posting a prompt request list for short imagines/one shots for MAYANS & SOA characters soon as well!

Thank you all so much! I can't wait to continue writing for you all!

~ Shannon

#angel reyes x reader #bishop losa #bishop losa fic #bishop losa x reader #bishop x oc #bishop x reader #angel reyes imagine #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz x reader #chibs telford #tig x oc #tig trager x oc #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes x oc #ez reyes #mayans fic #mayans x reader #soa x reader #soa fanfiction

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 27

Well... apparently having the two weeks from hell means that I go on a writing spree. I still have like half a notebook plus some more that's already written. I'll probably type some more up tomorrow. For now, I'm exhausted - and a little drunk - so this is as far as I got today.

Warnings: cursing, fluff, and show level talking about illegal shit.

Don't steal my shit. This is the only place it's posted. If you see it somewhere else, it's stolen.

Angel was the last one inside. He rolled the stained glass door closed behind him. 

Once everyone was seated, Bishop called the meeting to order. “Before we handle club business, we have some charter shit to discuss and bring to a vote.” He looked at Marcus. “Sorry, Padrino. New information.”

Marcus nodded. 

Bishop lit a cigarette and leaned forward. “It was brought to our attention that there is another tunnel to Mexico right in our backyard.” He paused and looked at Angel. “Tell them.” 

Angel took a deep breath and leaned forward as well, folding his hands on the table. Coco and Gilly both nodded at him. “When we raided the redneck ranch, Bishop sent us chasing Dennis. We told you he got away because he was shooting at us, and he did.” He paused and looked at Gilly. “It was also because while we were chasing him, Gilly and the Prospect fell into a hole in the ground. We stopped to pull them out. At first we thought it was some sort of animal den, but when we threw them down a light we found…”

Gilly took up the story. “It was a tunnel. A serious tunnel. We thought it was abandoned, but I went back to cover it up the next day and decided to check it closer.” He shrugged. “That branch was abandoned, but it led to another one that was in use. Working lights, supply stashes - everything. The Southern end ends at a locked hatch about a half mile into Mexico, but the Northern end -”

Bishop finished it, “The Northern end comes out in the cellar of the Ariza house.”

Every eye turned to Riz.

He sighed. “That tunnel is older than I am. My grandfather helped dig it. It belongs to Vickie. She uses it to help her girls. You know most of them don’t have papers. That’s what I was doing this afternoon. One of the girls hadn’t seen her baby in weeks, so I brought her mom and the baby to visit.”

Taza shook his head. “You should have told us.”

Riz sat forward. “It’s not affecting the club at all. I didn’t think it mattered.”

Hank growled. “Didn’t matter? And if you’d been caught using it? You’re an officer of this club. They’d never believe we didn’t know about it.” 

Bishop nodded sternly. “Hank’s right. You put us all in danger. We’re a club. Everything comes to the table, brother. You risked exposing us all without consulting us.”

“It’s not even my tunnel! There’s no action for the club!” Riz asserted.

Megan caught his eye. “There might not be any action, Riz, but there was risk. Every move we made would be suspect if someone found that tunnel that wasn’t us.” She shook her head. “We’d have lost the guns, the deal with the L.O. - everything.”

Taza agreed. “And it wouldn’t have stopped with our charter, brother. Every charter would be subject to suspicion. Probably even a R.I.C.O. investigation.”

Riz slammed himself backwards in his chair angrily.

Bishop raised a hand to forestall any more comments. “We need to vote this. Riz - step out.”

“This is bullshit!” Riz exploded and shoved himself back from the table before stomping out.

Megan shivered at his tone and reached to rub Rex’s ears under the table to hide her shaking hands. Hank slid her chair closer to his and his arm around her shoulders soothingly. It was only family. He could afford the affection in Templo.

Bishop ashed his cigarette and sighed. “We have to decide how serious this offense is.” He looked around and met everyone’s eyes. “Do we strip his patch?”

Megan sucked her breath in sharply but stayed silent. She didn’t have a say in this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as Hank soothed her a bit by running his hand up and down her spine.

Creeper sighed and ran a hand over his bald head. “Man - it was stupid, but I don't think it was malicious. Riz would never risk the club on purpose.” 

Coco lit a fresh smoke. “That’s true, but he still did it.”

Bishop sat back and sipped whiskey, but stayed out of the discussion.

Hank shook his head. “But stripping his patch? Riz lives for this club. It’s why we voted him Secretario.”

Taza agreed. “But we also can’t trust him with that job if he’s not considering the club when he makes his decisions - especially when he does something like this.”

Gilly nodded. “I agree.”

Bishop finally spoke. “So do we let him keep his patch, but strip his rank then?”

Taza nodded. “I’ll second that idea. Strip his rank. He’s left a full member with his vote, but not an officer.”

“And not eligible to hold office again for at least two years,” Hank agreed.

Nods went around the table. Bishop met everyone’s eyes. “Alright then. Let’s vote.” 

The vote was unanimous. Taza stood to call Riz in, where Bishop informed him of the decision made by the club. 

Riz drew his belt knife and cut the stitching that held his rank flash to his kutte and threw it on the table. 

Bishop called for nominations for the position and it came to a unanimous vote that Angel took the flash - with Riz abstaining from the vote with Bishop’s blessing.

Once everything had settled, Bishop looked to the new Secretario. “Alright. Charter shit handled. Now - what did Adelita say?”

Angel smirked a bit. “La Princessa was right. Adelita and her people are the perfect ones to hide and keep those weapons for us. We saw their current camp. It’s impossible to find without the coordinates. We were right on top of it before we even knew it was there and their guards had us in sight long before that. And every mother fucker there is deadly. Kids included.” Angel lit a cigarette. “We just need to get them shipping details. The barrels can come into the port at Ensenada to a shell company that EZ has the details for. The L.O. will move it, assemble and guard. We just play delivery boys and deal with the buyers. L.O. gets twenty percent. SAMCRO gets five percent. Seventy-five percent of the profit goes to the club.”

Marcus grinned. “Everyone wins.”

Bishop chuckled. “Everyone wins. Any questions?”

Megan raised her hand and looked to Angel. “Did Adelita find out who was following us in the market?”

“Nah. She put a tail on them, but the kid lost them.” Angel shrugged. “She wants to keep meets to a minimum until we either figure it out or the first shipment gets here.”

Bishop nodded. “Any objection to Angel staying the go-between?” he asked before looking around. When there weren’t any, he nodded again. “Alright then. Any other business?” When no one had any, he banged the gael. “Good. We’re done here.”

Angel, Coco, and Gilly rose to leave with Riz right on their tail looking pissed. 

Creeper sighed and pushed himself up. “They’ll be in the cage before sundown.”

Bishop nodded. “Probably, but that’s on them.”

“I’ll go supervise -” Creep agreed. 

Bishop grinned. “You’re on your own, brother. We’ve got paperwork and Hank’s got a date.”

That made Creeper laugh and wink at Megan. “Alright. Fair enough.”

After he left, the elder members of the club all turned their eyes to Megan and Hank. “Hank, brother, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bishop asked. 

Hank laughed. “It’s all planned out. We can leave whenever mi reina is ready.”

Megan giggled and stood up. “Alright. We’re going. Don’t spend all of your time gossiping about us.” She petted Rex’s ears again. “His harness and leash are behind the bar. I’ll have EZ fill his bowls. Should I leave the Templo door cracked so he can get out or do you want it closed?”

Taza laughed and stood to hug her tightly. “The pooch will be fine. We’ll be home late, so don’t wait up for us. Enjoy yourself, Chica.” He kissed her forehead and she felt his lips move as he muttered something in Apache against the crown of her head.

Megan hugged him back and smiled. “We will. Have fun doing paperwork.” She grinned as she went to hug her tíos too. They both said their goodnights before Megan gave the command for Rex to stay with Taza and joined Hank at the door to Templo.

Hank led the way to the car with a grin. “Are you excited to get to ride the bike again, mi amore?”

Megan nodded enthusiastically and slid into the passenger seat as Hank held the door open for her. “I really am. I love my car - but nothing beats riding the bike.”

“Good. We’ll head home to change before we head out.”

“Where are we going?” Megan asked as he joined her in the front seat.

“I promised you dinner and dancing, mi reina. I haven’t forgotten.”

At the ranch, Hank hung up their kuttes when they came through the door. Then he tugged her close by her waist to plant a kiss on her lips. When he finally came up for air, he couldn’t help but smile at the slightly dazed look on her face. “Alright, mi princessa. I’m going to do something I normally wouldn’t do.”

“What’s that?” she asked a bit breathlessly.

He tilted her chin up so she’d meet his eyes. “I’m going to make a request for your outfit. Will you please wear a dress for tonight? I don’t care which one - but you deserve a nice night and the dress will help with that.”

She smiled up at him. “Alright. But - you have to let me surprise you.”

He chuckled. “Going to short circut my brain?”

“Hopefully.”

“Alright, mi amore. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll get ready in Taza’s room.”

Hank grabbed the hanging suit bag from the closet and smiled. “You need anything before I go, mi princessa?” he asked, pulling her left hand to his mouth to kiss her crown ring. 

Megan smiled at him. “Will you help me change my earrings? I want to wear my pearls.”

“Of course, mi reina.” Hank carefully led her over to her dressing table and switched her earrings from the feathers he’d bought her to her crowned pearls. The backs were just too fiddly for her to do with the soft cast on. “Anything else?”

Megan touched the necklace she was wearing that matched Taza’s. “Can you help me swap this one out for grandmother’s pearls before you go?”

“Are you sure, mi amore? You haven’t taken it off since Taza gave it to you. You could leave it on,” Hank said, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m sure. I’ve got my ring from Papa on. The pearls will look nice with the dress.” She smiled at him in the mirror. 

Hank nodded and carefully worked the slide knots to loosen the turquoise and silver piece. He took the pearls from the wooden carved box on the vanity and carefully fastened the gold clasp. “There. Beautiful.” 

Megan touched them and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He picked up his suit bag and kissed her softly. “Call if you need me.”

Hank quickly rinsed off the road dust in the hall shower before pulling the black suit that he usually wore to mass with Mama out. It was still pressed from the last time Mama had done it. He pulled the white collared shirt on over his wife beater and fussed with how high to button it. He couldn’t decide if the tie was a good idea. He finally decided against it and left his collar unbuttoned as well. 

As he was fixing his hair, there was a knock at the door. He quickly went to answer it, calling out “I got it” so Megan wouldn’t come out.

EZ stood there with the biggest bouquet of mixed wild flowers and roses Hank could order in a vase with a grin on his face. 

“Any trouble with the pick up?” Hank asked.

“Nah.” EZ handed him the flowers and a small white box.

“Good. Get going before she gets curious,” Hank told him with a grin.

EZ laughed quietly and threw his hands up in surrender for leaving Hank to finish getting ready. 

In the bedroom, Megan also had quickly rinsed the tunnel dust off in the shower without getting her hair wet. She couldn’t do much with it with the soft cast still on, so she pinned her twin braids into a knot at the base of her skull. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best that she could do without Taza there to help. Besides, this way her helmet wouldn’t knock it too badly.

She slipped into the shorts Letty had bought her for dresses and figured out how to make the sticky bra work after a quick text chain with the teen herself. Then she stood in front of the dresses in her closet and froze. 

Which dress? Hank had said “nice” but what did that mean, really? Before she could get too deeply in her head about it, Megan called Diana.

“Hola, Sweetheart. Everything alright?” Diana asked through the phone.

“Hey Tía. Sorry. I forgot you might still be driving. Everything’s fine. Just having a bit of a fashion trouble,” Megan assured her.

“You’re fine, Sweetie. I was just about to text you. We just got inside. What’s the matter?” Diana asked.

Megan could hear rustling as her aunt sat things down. “Well, Hank and I are finally going out tonight, but I’m not sure what to wear. He asked for dress because we’re going dancing.”

Tía Diana chuckled. “Ah. I understand. Can’t figure it out?”

“Yeah. Any chance you could help me?”

“Of course, Bebita. What’s Hank wearing?” she asked.

“He took his suit bag to change in Papa’s room.”

“Ah. Perfect. So he’s wearing a suit. What did the doctor say? Do we need to work around your sling?” Megan could hear the change as Diana sat down somewhere.

“No sling,” Megan told her.

“Beautiful. Alright, Sweetheart, swap me to video call so I can see what we’re working with.”

Megan carefully swapped the phone to a video call to show Diana her packed closet. “He said ‘nice’. What does that mean?”

Diana chuckled. “Good question. Which of these have you already worn?”

Diana walked Megan through narrowing down her choices. Both of the final contenders were very different. One was black with tiny spaghetti straps and a back that started right beneath her tattoo. The v-neck allowed her jewelry to be the spotlight as did the plain black fabric. The skirt went to just below her knees and was loose enough to be able to get on the bike.

The second dress was a deep red. The skirt was short, but full and would make a statement if they actually went dancing. It had a sweetheart neckline and straps that went off the shoulder. The back though, was where it really shined. The dress was backless to the small of her back, putting her tattoo on full display as well as a lot of her skin. 

Either dress would pair nicely with the classic black ballet flats that were her only dress shoe option until after her quince.

“How do I figure out which to wear, Tía?” Megan asked, staring down at her two choices spread on her bed.

“How do you want the night to end?” Diana asked. “That should give you an idea of how daring you want to be.”

Megan felt her cheeks warm as she thought about Hank’s promises for after she was out of her sling.

Diana laughed. “That face screams red dress, Sweetheart. I left a lipstick that should be great with it on your dressing table along with an eyeliner pencil and mascara. I know you know how to use those even if you don’t do it often.” She smiled. “You don’t need much makeup anyway, Princessa.”

“Thank you, Tía. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

Diana waved her off. “You’d have been fine, Sweetheart. Send me a picture when you’re dressed.”

They said their goodbyes and Megan hurried to use the makeup products Diana had left her before sliding into the red dress and flats. She smoothed her hair and took a few pictures with her phone to send to her tía and Letty. As a last minute decision, she also sent one to Taza. 

A moment later, her phone dinged with a text from her father. She checked it. “You look beautiful, Chica. Enjoy your night.”

Megan smiled and tucked her phone, wallet, and lipstick into a small black purse. She was ready. 

Hank had just slipped into his dress boots and suit jacket when his phone chimed three times from the table. It was his personal cell, not the club burner, so he didn’t worry too much about the texts being anything that could mess up his night. He laughed as he realized they were texts from Taza, Bishop and Marcus. He opened Bishop’s first. 

“Take your gun, brother. YOu might need it to keep the pendejos under control. She’s fucking beautiful.” Hank chuckled, but checked his ankle holster for his back up anyway. 

The text from Marcus simply said “you better do this right,” and Hank couldn’t help but smile. As the only married Mayan currently in Santo Padre, Marcus was certainly a man with strong opinions on how his god daughter should be treated. 

Taza’s text was a little different. “Be sure to tell her how beautiful she looks. Show her how a princessa should be treated. And lock the damn bedroom door!”

Hank laughed. He only replied to Taza’s message since he knew they were all together. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise. And yes - I’ll lock the door.” He slipped his phone into his jacket pocket before he settled it across his broad shoulders and reached for the flowers and box that EZ had dropped off for him.

He knocked on the bedroom door gently. “Mi reina? I take it from the text message I just got from Taza that you’re ready. Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Megan called through the wooden door.

Hank opened the door carefully with his full hands and stepped into the bedroom.

Megan was standing in the middle of the room fiddling with her purse. She looked up and smiled as Hank came in.

His breath caught in his throat and his jaw dropped. He barely held onto his gifts. “Dios mío, eres tan hermosa, mi reina. How’d I get so lucky?”

Megan’s smile widened. “Usually when you slip into Spanish, I did good, so I’ll take that as a compliment.

Hank chuckled. “You’re beautiful, Megan. So God damned beautiful that my brain shuts down.” He stepped forward and offered her the flowers.

“Thank you! They’re beautiful. My first real flowers…” Megan bent to smell them with a giggle. 

“There will be plenty more, mi amore. I promise.”

Megan sat the vase on her dresser and fussed with them a moment before turning back to him. “You look great too.”

He smiled and offered her his hand so he could pull her close. He gently kissed her knuckles and smiled. “I got you one more thing.” He offered her the small white cardboard box that was tied with a green ribbon.

Megan took it, stepping closer to him to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Open it.”

She pulled the lid off the box to find a delicate pearl bracelet to match the rest of her jewelry. “Oh Hank… It’s gorgeous.”

He took it from the box and showed her where the clasp had an H and an M entwined engraved on it before fastening it around her left wrist. He pressed a kiss to the skin of her inner wrist with a smile. “Ready for a real date?”

“With you? So ready,” Megan said with a smile. 

Hank helped Megan into her armored leather jacket and helmet before putting his own on. EZ had also detailed Hank’s bike during Templo and dropped it off with the flowers and jewelry. It was parked out front. 

Hank mounted his bike and helped Megan to settle behind him. He savored how close she was to him and felt her arms come around his waist tightly before he started the bike and headed for town. 

Taglist

@jemmakates

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#lost princessa #mayans mc #meet the reaper #lost princessa sequel #taza x daughter!oc #megan(oc) x hank #che taza romero #hank loza #mayans mc fanfic #bishop losa #marcus alvarez #ez reyes