#ezekiel reyes au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

garbinge · 1 year

Text

The Odds of a Jawbreaker

EZ Reyes & OC Julia ‘Jules’ Silva

Day 18 from these April Prompts: Jawbreaker Sweets

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

Words: 2.5k

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

Warnings: Light angst

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @narcolini @justreblogginfics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jules?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I missed this.” She mumbled against him.

“Me too, Jules.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

29 notes · View notes

satashiiwrites · 2 years

Text

Wip Wednesday

So yeah. Haven’t worked on this in a while but today I have cranky Miguel in the back of my brain so…. Yeah. Tagging @imsupposedtobewritting @radio-chatter @quietborderline @elisela @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter and anyone else who wants to play along. No pressure as always!

Title: The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss, unknown chapter

Fandom: Mayans MC

Pairings: EZ/Miguel, prior Miguel/Emily and canon pre-series Ez/Emily, Angel/Adelita, eventual Angel/Coco

Other tags/warnings: no series knowledge required—we’re AU from about the third episode or so. Sentinel/Guide. Cut for length. Bond interference.

Miguel snarled, frustration clear on his face and EZ could almost feel his guide—the steel trap that had clamped down on their bond was still holding. It felt almost but not quite like someone was pounding on a door far away. His senses were dulled, not even a normal human’s as they’d given him such a high dose. Everything was dull, just this side of numb and the color of his vision was faded.

The only thing that seemed vivid was Miguel in the pale washed out world around him.

The warm tan of his skin.

The inky black of his hair that was sticking up at all angles from how he’d run his hands through it in frustration.

The intoxicating pull of his whiskey brown eyes that were laser focused on EZ’s.

He could almost taste the remembered scent of his guide but there was nothing. No aftertaste on his tongue, no aroma to savor because he couldn’t…. He couldn’t scent him.

The blocking drugs had taken that from him.

His tongue felt foreign in his mouth as he licked his lips, trying to close his mouth but feeling a line of drool escape he was so uncoordinated. His fingers were clumsy as he tried to twine them in Miguel’s shirt but finally caught and held in the fine cotton weave, anchoring him as one of Miguel’s arms wrapped tight around his waist, the other holding his jaw.

“My guide,” he whispered, words slurring as he let his face rest and then rubbed like a cat against the warm palm. EZ wanted to feel the texture against his unshaven cheek, wanting to feel the ridges of each fingerprint but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t even feel the tears escaping his eyes as they trailed down his face.

The numbness penetrated deep into his core, chilling him.

“My sentinel,” Miguel whispered back, eyes intense as they traced his features. “They took you from me. What did they do to you?”

There was a far away howl of a wolf, calling for it’s mate. The lonely cry echoed through his brain, vibrating a response in his own chest that was barely audible. He wanted to respond—the part of him where his own wolf resided snarling in its cage, howling in response in the back of his mind where it’d been bound by the blocking drugs. The steel bars of the chemical cage wavered for just a moment before holding fast.

“Miguel,” he called, plaintive. “My guide, mi vida…” the endearment they’d both jokingly used tumbled from his mouth.

This time it wasn’t teasing.

Miguel was his vida.

His guide.

His life.

A few more tears escaped his eyes, trailing wet tracks down his cheek. He couldn’t feel the touch of his guide even on his face. He knew it was there but he couldn’t feel. They’d done this. Taken this from him.

How could they have done this?

The fear that the drugs had damaged their bond permanently tore at him.

Crowding into him, Miguel was undeterred and never once blinked, eyes fastened on EZ’s. “Ezekiel,” he crooned, “My sentinel.”

“Miguel,” he called back, rubbing his face against his guide’s palm to bury his nose in the pulse point, tongue sneaking out to lick and taste.

Nothing.

Frustrated, he bit at the skin gently and licked again.

Nothing.

The hand twisted, sliding around to grip the back of his neck and pulling him in even closer until his nose was buried in Miguel’s throat, right where the bonding bite mark was still raised against the otherwise unmarked skin. The rumbling growl in Miguel’s chest vibrated through him as he pressed into the mark, teeth gently catching.

The pounding on that mental door was louder. Still muffled but it was coming in waves now, distinct.

Miguel was saying something, his voice intense against EZ’s ear but it was difficult to focus.

“My sentinel. How dare they? They will not take you from me! You are mine as I am yours! Ezekiel!”

At his name, EZ bit down hard, teeth breaking the skin. He clamped down hard—harder than he had with the initial bonding.

Something slipped.

Something deep within him that rolled beneath the surface of his conscious mind as it crested.

Something primitive.

He’d been told old stories—myths—of what and why sentinels always had guides. Of the danger of an unbound guide or sentinel.

The damage that could be caused by interference.

There were reasons why the laws were weighted so heavily in favor of sentinel-guide pairs. A sentinel or guide was dangerous if taken from their mate—there were stories of entire units of soldiers being wiped out by a surviving sentinel or guide going back throughout history. A severed bond would cause the survivor to enact revenge until they were stopped—almost always permanently. An alpha guide of Miguel’s level, with no restraints on his gifts that he didn’t yet even know the limits of?

They had no clue what they had done by administering the blocking drugs.

None.

EZ wouldn’t object to whatever Miguel wanted, would do anything to try and reconnect with his guide. Whatever it was that made him a sentinel snarled in frustration at the blocked bond, railed at it.

Miguel had arched into the bite, face rapturous in pleasure when EZ opened his eyes again.

“Guide… my guide…” he whispered into the juncture of neck and shoulder, tongue laving at the mark that bled sluggishly. The taste of copper was startling but real.

EZ hadn’t tasted anything since the drugs.

He didn’t resist when he found himself slammed into the ground, Miguel’s teeth finding purchase in his own mark as his shirt was pulled away. Miguel’s weight settled into his hips, knees bracketing his chest as the guide curled over him protectively. Possessively. The hardwood floor under him keeping him in place even as his own hands latched on to hold his guide in place above him.

The feel of warm skin under his fingers, silky smooth over corded muscle of the back and hip. The flex of each stuttered breath.

The only warning was a brief flicker of feeling, a searching touch that reached for him from his guide.

The sharp pain of Miguel’s teeth in his neck, the pressure and release before the gentle press of a close mouthed kiss to the mark that covered his guide’s lips in his blood.

The drug’s hold on the bond snapped and his senses came roaring back in a flooding deluge.

EZ was instantly overwhelmed.

It was too much and never enough.

He sought out Miguel’s mouth with his, connecting like two magnets. The taste of guide and blood, the sweetness of shared breath. The heat of touch and the weighty presence that surrounded him as his guide’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.

They both scrambled to get their hands on each other. Clothing was torn at and discarded as hands sought to re-memorize each inch of flesh.

To mark.

To reclaim.

Miguel was his.

He was Miguel’s.

The bond had snapped back to life, stronger than before as Miguel pushed mentally at him. Instead of breaking or scattering, his inner self folded around the guide, encompassing him and sheltering around the sharp edges that calmed and softened as they intermingled. Miguel was everywhere all at once within him, spreading and merging all their separate parts in a desperate need to renew their bond.

Unsurprising, their physical bodies followed.

#wip wednesday #the outlaw and the cartel boss #Miguel Galindo x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #sentinel/guide AU #i really should work on this

15 notes · View notes

zaenight · 1 year

Text

I think you'd like this story: "Crazy but she's mine || Ezekiel "Ez" Reyes" by zae-night on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/335114103?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=zae-night&wp_originator=TEAr7l8lsw4spX6cOwkPmuVuTvL%2F%2BrkG6UNMnUww4yt3gUbPyA3MtiMbY0qHcDboonHpEWpVdxYCOTYsWPvIbKUVpkg7H6OdKCGF6QYuZqxhaOvgyGqnEydgtqbSUDd5

2 notes · View notes

tajthegrappler · 7 days

Text

“sometimes i do drugs. not hard ones, just ones that change my mind up.”

Is that ( Daniel Garcia )? Oh, no, that’s ( Taj Marino ), a (Twenty Six ) year old ( Underground MMA Fighter / Aspiring Painter ) who uses (He/Him) pronouns. They currently live in ( Quilpué ), and the character they identify with most is ( Tyler Durden from Fight Club, Ezekiel Reyes from Mayans MC, also temper like Angel Reyes from Mayans MC, Rio from Good Girls, JJ Maybank from Outer Banks, Samoa Joe with All Elite Wrestling, Canelo Alvarez with the UFC, every Pete Davidson character in every Pete Davidson movie 🤣 ). Hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas! ( tiana, 26, she/her, central, no triggers )

ooc; I’m what they call discord illiterate. i literally use it like we (showing my age here) used to use kik. so if i act dumb or get frustrated easily, that’s what that is. you can call me t, i’m not new to rp but au rp i am shaky on since ive only RP’d in the toxic world of wrestling rp. still trying to get my footing but hopefully it won’t take long for the adjustment. message me here or on discord for anything and I’ll try to reply as timely as one who sleeps too much can.

#( c h a r a c t e r )#( p i n n e d )

1 note · View note

ao3feed-rarry · 1 year

Text

Harry Potter November Challenge

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IaZSFtO

by dwinchestersgirl88

Stories of different tropes and prompts with various Harry Potter pairings. There are a few rare pairs and some have the same pairing but only two of the stories continue from one another.

Story #1 Coffee Shop AU featuring Harry/Sirius

Words: 2530, Chapters: 2/30, Language: English

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Mayans M.C. (TV), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Supernatural (TV 2005), NCIS, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, DCU, Real Steel (2011), Game of Thrones (TV), Assassin's Creed - All Media Types

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Various Character(s)

Relationships: Sirius Black/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Fred Weasley/George Weasley, Fenrir Greyback/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter/Tom Riddle/Severus Snape, Dudley Dursley/Vernon Dursley/Harry Potter, Angel Reyes/Harry Potter/Ezekiel Reyes, Harry Potter/Charlie Swan, Crowley (Supernatural)/Harry Potter, Anthony DiNozzo/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Bill Weasley/Charlie Weasley, Clint Barton/Harry Potter, Victor Stone/Harry Potter, Charlie Kenton/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Fabian Prewett, Khal Drogo (A Song of Ice and Fire)/Harry Potter

Additional Tags: Tags will be add in the chapter notes

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IaZSFtO

#ao3feed #ao3feed rarry #fanfic #harry x ron #rarry #hon #rory

0 notes

rae-gar-targaryen · 3 years

Note

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

Anyways yeah…. This had been on my mind ALOT

those damned romantics [college!ez reyes x reader]

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

Pairing: College!Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, it was on, motherfucker.

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strike two.

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

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

Fuck, you were hot when you were mad.

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

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

The audacity of this boy.

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

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

Had you really just -- ??

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ezekiel, wha --?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As quickly as it had started, Ezekiel stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tagging?? **

424 notes · View notes

thelittlefanpire · 2 years

Text

THE RAVEN

by thelittlefanpire

The 100 | Zaven | Space Force Recruits | Superheroes AU | TROPED

Inspired by Round Three of Madness 1.0 @troped-fanfic-challenge || Theme: Modern | Character: Raven Reyes | Tropes: Superpowers + Found Family

When their first space mission fails due to a strange green solar flare, a team of astronauts return to Earth, but one of them, Raven Reyes, learns that something else up in space has gone terribly wrong and turned her into a superfreak.

[a series of unfinished fics—9/50]

#the 100 fanfiction #raven reyes fanfiction #zaven fanfiction #zaven #raven x zeke #raven reyes #miles ezekiel shaw #zeke shaw #thelittlefanpirefics #my moodboards #tlfcreates100 #tlfufs #chopped madness #chopped madness: round 3 #round 3: modern #modern au #space force recruits

7 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 2 years

Text

Fic Rec Celebration!

In honor of @dreamlandcreations‘ 300 follow celebration, I’m giving a shout-out to ten of my fave fics from other authors, as well as showing a love to a few faves from my own masterlist!

Fic recs are under the cut! xo

10 Recs From Other Authors:

Butterflies in Leather by @withmyteeth [Mayans MC x Reader] (I cried as I read it when she was publishing it, and I’m crying as I reread it now. The beauty and emotions in this story are unmatched.)

You Owe Me by @garbinge [Frank Castle x OC] (When I tell you I think about Frank and Ty on the daily it’s not an exaggeration)

Come What May by @lovebarefootblonde [Jax Teller x OC] (All the warm fuzzies and nostalgic high school feelings I get from this story. Don’t look at me, don’t touch me, I’m soft)

Of Life and Death by @awildcur [Coco Cruz x OC] (Coco and Soledad give me the softest feelings in the entire world I love them so much)

The Worst Flirt by @obsessedasusual [Juice Ortiz x Reader] (Every now and then I come across a fic that feels so authentically Juan Carlos, and this is it. This one right here.)

Last Rites by @ashlingnarcos [Horacio Carrillo x Reader] (It’s sad but I have never loved being in pain so much as when I was reading this)

Taking Damage by @narcolini [Güero x Reader] (I’ve never been so supportive of questionable decisions. I was a different person when I was reading this and I loved that for me.)

I Don’t Wanna Be Unfair by @passionatewrites [Jax Teller x OC] (The entire universe and cast of characters in this story has had me sucked in from the first chapter and it just keeps getting better.)

Passive Aggressive Notes by @yourwonkywriter [Nestor Oceteva x Reader] (Y’all don’t understand the crucial role this fic played in me falling in love with Nestor. Tbh all of her Nestor fics did that. But this one??? THIS ONE??? Peak Nestor experience.)

The Cage by @joannasteez [EZ Reyes x OC] (When I grow up I want to write descriptions as good as Jo’s. Also this story left me a whole mess.)

There are so many works from these writers, and also other writers in all these fandoms, but I think this is a decent little range of shout-outs. Love all these so much 💛

10 Recs From My Masterlist:

Good Things [EZ Reyes x Reader] When I set out to write this oneshot, I had something else in mind entirely but I’m obsessed with how it turned out. Sad Boy / Yearning hours for Ezekiel.

Self-Defense [EZ Reyes x Reader] You can pry this angst and meltdown out of my cold dead hands.

Fresh Ink [Juice Ortiz x Reader] Juice deserves to be in super sappy love and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise.

State of Grace [David Hale x OC] A cop falling in love with the outlaw’s baby sister?? What could possibly go wrong?? (Spoiler alert: a lot)

If It’s Alright [Horacio Carrillo x Reader] Carrillo was made for the exes with feelings trope. Simply made for it.

Stick Around [Jax Teller x OC] These boys deserved a sister and I’m going to keep making them.

Like Father, Like Son [Creeper Vargas x Reader] The start of my Creeper Wolfpack AU. Love this family so friggin much.

Something For You [Nestor Oceteva x Reader] I have never written Nestor softer than this. The feelings I experienced writing this were just. So fuzzy.

Before You Go [Nestor Oceteva x Reader] This was just a short little something but I really liked the moment it captured. The man just deserves some love, that’s all.

Best Ex Ever [Coco Cruz x Reader] Just some chaos for the one and only Johnny Coco Cruz. I adore that man.

I tried to go through and pick some fics that I don’t usually take the time to shout-out. Some of my stuff that’s either older or went a little under the radar. 🖤

#fic recs #fic rec #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #narcos

33 notes · View notes

garbinge · 1 year

Photo

Julia ‘Jules’ Silva

“We make our own odds, Reyes.”

#Mayans MC #Mayans FX #Mayans #Mayans AU #mayans fanfiction #Baseball AU #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x oc #ez reyes x oc

8 notes · View notes

satashiiwrites · 2 years

Text

The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss, XV-XVI

So it’s…. Um…. Been a year since I’ve posted a chapter of this. Which is incredibly embarrassing and terrible. But since Miguel has been the snarly and snarky voice in the back of my head during meetings the last two weeks I’ve finally gotten back on track. Goal is every other month publishing a chapter until done.

Without further Ado….

Title: The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss, XV-XVI

Fandom: Mayans MC

Pairings: Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, past Miguel Galindo/Emily Galindo, Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes/Emily Galindo, current Angel Reyes/Luisa “Adelita” Espina, future Angel Reyes/Johnny “Coco” Cruz

Other Tags/Warnings: We’re waaaaay AU of the TV series (not brothers) as of about episode 3 or 4 so minimal knowledge of Mayans necessary for enjoyment. Sentinel/Guide AU. Sentinel/Guide Bonding. Bond interference.

Fic summary:

EZ Reyes came online with his mother’s violent death and suffered the consequences of his actions in the aftermath. When Jimenez offers him a deal to turn evidence in on the Galindo cartel, he agreed as he’d brought shame on his tribe by his actions and it was a chance at redemption that he didn’t feel he deserved. He just didn’t anticipate who his guide would be and the amount of trouble they’d generate for him. Miguel had goals—to legitimize the family business, enjoy life and his family. He didn’t anticipate any of the events that forced him online as a guide but now that he has a sentinel he’s not letting him go.

Chapter summary: Miguel is brought into federal custody and is given an offer by Potter. Meanwhile, Kevin and Felipe reach an understanding.

Read it here on AO3

#the outlaw and the cartel boss #outlaw/cartel boss #miguel galindo #ez reyes #Miguel Galindo x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #sentinel/guide AU #sentinel Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #Guide Miguel Galindo #mayans mc #Mayans fic #chapter update #it’s been a while?

12 notes · View notes

joannasteez · 3 years

Note

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

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

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

18 notes · View notes

zaenight · 1 year

Text

I think you'd like this story: "Crazy but she's mine || Ezekiel "Ez" Reyes" by zae-night on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/335114103?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=zae-night&wp_originator=B92uhlm6o22aQtYYzOiYjzUG7umdVaORoF8goJ9JiLT0kBJ%2BugyleiYhevqGqISu7qSeUX4ndk0r3x4B1vF93nkzKBiTncPI5Y%2B3OAin3udpFvnJjQlu76P8hmrzer%2Ft

1 note · View note

emilysraincoat · 6 years

Text

Consequences

Miguel’s men drop Ez off at the entrance to the scrap yard, offering to walk him all the way in but understanding why it’s a bad idea. Bringing them into the clubhouse will only cause trouble he’s too tired to prepare for and too shaken to handle well.

One of the only places Ez has always felt completely safe is the clubhouse. They always protect him, and Angel has good advice, and Coco would shoot anyone who tried to hurt him. Miguel’s has held that same safety for the last couple months, but today was different. He still feels a little sick thinking about the things he saw that he was never meant to. The blood. The chaos. It takes a deep breath to steady himself enough to walk into the clubhouse.

Angel sits on the couch with a beer, watching a game of darts and rolling his eyes at something Ez’s too caught up in his own head. His presence is quickly noticed, and suddenly he’s sitting outside with his elbows on his knees and Angel beside him. He can’t think straight. There’s still blood on the knees of his jeans that he knows doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What happened?”

He can’t stop picturing the look on Miguel’s face when he walked out of the bedroom and saw the mess. Not fear, or panic, or anger, or anything that a normal person should experience with two dead bodies in front of them and a very stained floor. Just resignation. The way he had called Ez a familiar pet name with an edge of comfort but didn’t look shocked at being ignored lingers like the aftertaste of cough medicine.

“Miguel killed three people. I watched him shoot the last one. It’s not like I didn’t know what kind of man he was, but I’ve never had to see it and now that I have I just... I don’t know.”

It doesn’t occur to him until too late that he’s never told Angel about Miguel because he knew it wouldn’t end well.

“You better not be talking about Galindo, man.”

“It’s complicated,” Ez says weakly, “but I don’t want a lecture. I came here because it’s safe and I wanna forget.”

Miguel’s men were too slow and there was a third intruder. The metal of his gun had been cold against Ez’s hip.

“Come back inside, let’s get you a drink.”

#ezekiel reyes #mayans mc #Miguel/ez #mizekiel #Angel reyes #mine #fic #fwb!au #I don’t really like how this turned out but w/e

19 notes · View notes

immortalcockroach · 6 years

Note

Hi sweetheart! What about a modern Zaven fic where Raven is a young mother of a beautiful son & she's dating Zeke but he lied to her about going back to war and they have an argument about it because she truly care about him and be lighted up her world after Finn left her and she's scared to lose him? Bonus, it is set on the beach with a gorgeous sunset, to contrast the pain from their concersation. Haha, I love pain but they are the babes.

Hey, Anon! This was a very specific request and I hope I did it justice. The first part is the backstory so it’s a little bit slow, but the actual conversation absolutely breaks my heart.

WE’RE ALL SURVIVING THE BEST WAY WE CAN

summary: Raven finds out that Zeke is going back to the Air Force and she can’t bear the thought of him leaving, too - not after he’s become to her everything her child’s father, Finn, couldn’t be.

pairing: Raven x Zeke

words: 2,522

read on AO3

When Raven met Zeke, she was at a very bad place in her life. At twenty-four, she had a two-year-old to look after and a job at a car repair shop downtown where she worked with sexist pigs, and an ex-fiancee who knocked her up and bolted into the arms of another woman.

Miles met him first. She lost him at the park and Zeke was the one who found him and brought it back to her, and took them for an ice-cream and lunch.

Miles adored him and Raven couldn’t say otherwise. He smiled brightly at them, tugged at Miles’s curls playfully, and he didn’t seem to have any ill intentions toward either of them.

Sometimes, Raven is surprised at the number of men who get off on young mothers with children, and she’s become wary of them over time.

There was nothing about Zeke that wasn’t genuine. When he offered them to get lunch again sometime, she accepted almost immediately.

Miles hugged him when they were leaving, and Zeke smiled, and when he looked at her, she could tell he was really hoping she’d call. That he’d see her again.

And really, she trusted Miles’s judgment. And was really lonely, and sad, and miserable, and longed to be able to have someone in her life who’d help her out because after Finn, her life consisted of work and Miles and having to take too many jobs to be able to pay the bills, and her social life was nonexistent.

Besides, Zeke didn’t seem to mind the fact she was a mother. If anything, he seemed to like that the two came in a package, and it wasn’t long before they were dating and he became more of a father to Miles than Finn ever was.

They moved in with him few months later, because Raven loved him and he loved her and even though they were young and probably rushing into things, she trusted him more than she ever trusted Finn and that was all she needed.

He knew her story. Only child, doesn’t know her father, raised herself because of a deadbeat mother, and didn’t go to college because her grades weren’t good enough since she spent most of her time working three jobs to pay for the bills and her mother’s debts. At eighteen, she started dating her childhood best friend and at twenty he proposed and at twenty-one she got pregnant with Miles, and he had to go to California for several months, and when she gave him a surprise visit, she found another woman in his bed.

She knew his story. Born and raised in Brooklyn, studied programming at MIT before deciding to be a pilot in the Air Force. Big, beautiful family of all intelligent and loving people, with a mother who died few days before they met, of breast cancer. One long-term girlfriend, but he didn’t want to continue the relationship while serving the country, and he came back from Afghanistan two months before they met.

After a year of living together, Raven feels like she can finally breathe again. She’s twenty-six with a four-year-old who treats the man he lives with as his dad, and Zeke treats Miles as a son. Miles has taken after Raven’s Hispanic complexion and has her curls, so when his old friends see him with Miles, nobody thinks he isn’t his.

In addition to that, Raven left her job at the mechanic and is studying part-time for a degree in the mechanics, even though she’s better than all her peers. She got a job at a prestigious car company and she’s met Monty there, who introduced her to Harper and Jasper and Miller and Jackson, all the people who are now a part of her and Zeke’s friendship group.

For the first time since she found out she was pregnant with Miles—or maybe first time ever, really—she’s truly, infinitely happy.

That’s why it hurts so much to confront him about the letter from the military.

And that’s why she confronts him about it while Miles is at Harper and Monty’s kid’s birthday sleepover, and she and Zeke have some time to themselves. They took a Harley to Brighton Beach and when Zeke left to get them ice-cream, Raven sat on the sand.

Right now, she feels heavy. It’s not the kind of sadness she’s used to, because she isn’t particularly sad. She lost the capacity to be sad when Finn ruined her and she promised herself she’d become stronger, never let anyone do that to her again.

It feels like walking for a long time, when your feet hurt and you know that walking doesn’t ease the pain, but you have a place you need to go to and sometimes your feet hurt.

Sometimes you ache, with a blank stare, trying to figure out the whirlpool of emotions inside you. To figure out where you are at this moment, at this place, with this person, and who you are in midst of all that. Sometimes, it’s acceptance that hurts more than the realization of impending loss.

Maybe it takes Zeke a long time to get the ice-cream, maybe every moment she spends agonizing over the future lasts a short eternity.

Raven runs her fingers through the sand. It’s brittle and warm, and she feels the dying sun on her face and can’t help but feel a different kind of heaviness weighing her down.

She doesn’t feel like crying. It feels too deep to be so shallow, it feels like a house ripped away from her and her roots snatched from the ground and she’s floating, and her body aches, and she feels it too deep to be able to cry.

Zeke planned it as a romantic getaway. Something they haven’t had in a long time, and as much as they love spending time with Miles, it’s beautiful to have moments like these.

Just the two of them.

And a letter from the military.

When Zeke comes, she can’t even bring herself to smile, or look at him. He tells her about the line he had to stand in, and stupid kids, and she hears the adoration in his voice he has every time he talks about kids. She knows he wants one of his own, one to be a brother or a sister to Miles.

He notices, almost right away.

“What’s wrong?”

‘Nothing,’ Raven wants to say, but it’s a lie too heavy. Her eyes are burning and so is her throat, but there are no tears threatening to fall.

She stares at the sun that’s turning orange. There’s people around them, kids playing, some even swimming, but it feels like they’re somewhere else. She can barely perceive what’s happening to her.

“I love you,” she says.

It’s not the first time she says it and it’s not unusual, but she’s certain he notices the way her voice cracks at the end of the statement. How she doesn’t look at him, how gravely her voice is. Maybe he even notices her fingers shaking, even if they’re buried in the sand or holding the cone.

“I love you, too.” He moves some hair out of her face. “What is going on, Raven?”

“I found your letter,” she says. “From the Air Force.”

She looks at him. He holds her gaze, for a second or two, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and focusing on something behind her, anything but her.

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? You’re leaving in two weeks.”

Zeke opens his mouth, parts his lips in a way he does before he gives an excuse, but gives up and looks at the ocean instead.

There are still no tears threatening to fall, but Raven feels as if someone’s choking her.

She should’ve known when McCreary came over, and Zeke couldn’t fall asleep that night. When he was grumpy—and Zeke is never grumpy, not with her or Miles—and when he was quiet, and it was months ago.

She should’ve known he would want back in.

There are many reasons why Raven loves him and his hero-complex that he so vehemently denies is larger than most of them.

“You want to be the hero,” she states.

He doesn’t deny it this time.

She smiles, still. “You already are one. You’re Miles’s hero.”

“I know. And it’s more than I deserve. Sometimes it’s too much to bear, to know that this little, beautiful kid sees me as his hero when there’s so many better people than me out there.” Before Raven can protest, he continues, “It’s easier when you’re fighting a war for someone else, when you’re a hero without a name. Just a number.”

“You’re not just a number.”

“I am, Rae.” He brings a finger to her lips and brushes over them, glancing at her as if in fear of what happens next. “But McCreary and Diyoza and my team, they need me.”

“I need you.”

“You don’t,” he says. “You’re perfectly capable of living your life on your own.”

“I was giving up when I met you.”

“You were never going to give up. Finn fucked you up and ruined your self-confidence and shit, but you’re a great mother and a woman because you had to raise Miles on your own and he’s the best kid I’ve ever known.”

“He says that because he’s yours.”

Zeke smiles. “I wish he was, but he isn’t. But if I ever have kids, God, I want them to be raised by you. I want them to be kind and sassy and confident and stubborn just like Miles. Just like you.”

“Then why leave?”

This time, he doesn’t answer right away. He drops his hand from her face and puts it on his lap, and Raven resists the urge to hold it. To ask him to promise that everything’s going to be okay, that he won’t leave.

She knows better. She knows he can’t promise her that, because his team is as much family to him as she is.

Instead, she watches the sun. It’s closer to the ocean and it’ll start to set soon, and she wishes she could embrace the sight as much as she should. Without knowing he’s going to leave, too.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her voice is quiet, almost inaudible, and she can’t look at him when she asks it. “Is that why everyone leaves? I become too much? Do I say stupid shit? Is there something I—”

She doesn’t realize she’s crying or that Zeke is holding her until she runs out of breath and she’s shaking in his arms, barely even feeling the warmth of his body. He smells like the garage, like his Harley, like the mint that’s planted all around their apartment because Miles loves it. He smells like home.

Raven doesn’t want to imagine a home without him.

His hands pull her closer when she starts sobbing, and she’s in his lap and he runs hands through her hair. She doesn’t even have the energy to hug him back, to wrap her hands around him and never let him go.

She doesn’t want him to go.

She doesn’t want to be left alone again.

She doesn’t want this.

He kisses the top of her head and she feels tears in her hair, too.

“You are perfect,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse and he’s about to break down, struggling to get the words out, but does it anyway. “You are kind and brave and intelligent and you don’t deserve any of the shit you’ve been through. You deserve to be treated right and I feel like I can’t do that, not yet. You’re a woman who knows what she wants and I feel like I’m not mature enough to be with you. Like I don’t deserve you.”

Raven parts her lips and tries to say something, but can’t. There’s nothing she can say that could convey the weight of the emotion she’s feeling right now.

Zeke pulls her even closer.

“This is my last time, but I need this. I need to sort my head through. It’s just six months, and then I’m done with it. But I want to figure out who I am before I can be the man you deserve.”

“I already deserve you,” she whispers.

“No,” he says. “Raven, you and Miles are the best thing that’s happened to me. And I want to have kids with you, more than we can handle. And I want to take you to my stupidly big family celebrations, and I want to let Miles take my name, and I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But you’re leaving.”

“Yes. But I’m leaving so I could come back a better man.”

“War doesn’t make heroes,” she says. “It ruins them.”

Zeke pulls her back, cupping both her cheeks, and makes her look at him. She hates the sight – he looks just as broken as she feels. Red eyes, skin swollen underneath them, and trembling lips, blushing cheeks. He looks like a mess, but it’s the mess she loves and can’t bear to lose.

“Listen,” he says. “I owe my team this much. And I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave you. I’ll write to you, I’ll call when I’ll be able to, and I’m not going to be another person who left you on your own because I’d rather die.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious.”

She can’t bear the thought of him dying. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Look at me. Rae, please. I love you, okay? You may not understand, but this is something I need to do. And when I come back, I’ll marry you.”

“What if I say no?”

“You’ll be too happy to see me to say no,” he says. He looks at her for a moment and realizes it was an attempt to make a joke, and his lips spread into the tiniest of smiles – but genuine. “I’m serious. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But you didn’t tell me about this.”

“I’m sorry. It was shitty of me, but I didn’t know how to. I was going to do it today, and explain everything.”

“And propose to me?”

“No,” he admits, “that wasn’t a part of the plan. But I’ve been meaning to do it since the moment I realized you were Miles’s mother, because he was the best kid I’ve ever met and I thought he must have the best mother ever, and when I saw you looking stunning even though you looked like you were about to fall apart, I knew I was going to marry you someday.”

She smiles. Barely.

He’s leaving, but he’s not leaving. And he’s making a promise that he’ll come back.

“When you come back,” she says, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

When he kisses her, lips wet and salty with tears of goodbye, she knows she means what she said.

He’s not her dad, or her mom, or Finn.

He’s Zeke. And he’s never going to leave her.

#Anonymous #zaven #zaven fanfic #zaven fic #zaven fanfiction #ff: zaven #my fic #raven reyes #zeke shaw #miles ezekiel shaw #miles shaw #raven x zeke #the 100 #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfic #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 au #the 100 modern au #i forgive queue

45 notes · View notes

twistnet · 2 years

Text

family tensions [ miguel galindo ]

SUMMARY ─ with the emergence of new information regarding family ties, you take it upon yourself to extent the hand and welcome your half-brother into the family, much to the dislike of a certain someone -- @cherieann-2001

WARNINGS ─ female!sibling!reader, slight!au, angst [ jealously + general pettiness ], general fluff [ sibling bonding ] + mature language

“so... you are my sister -- half-sister really, but family is family.” miguel muses, crossing his fingers as he cocks his head to the side. already finding this situation to be one of the more challenging he’s ever come across. you raise a brow, “what are you expecting from this? did you think that i was coming here to ask you for money? or to be cut in on a deal in your operation?” the look that crosses his face at the mention of his operation amuses you, but you don’t dwell on it before continuing.

“i don’t want any of that... i just want to get to know my brother, nothing more. would i have wanted a sister to kinda even the score? yeah, but i can’t be picky.” your words surprise the man behind the desk, and after thinking everything over, he stands and rounds the desk to stand before you.

“i would like the same. i thought... i didn’t have anymore family. so, it would be nice to get to know you, even if we are half-siblings.” you nod before standing from your seat, offering him a warm smile, “i don’t know how you want to do this, but i’m willing to make things work -- just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

miguel hums, holding back a light chuckle as he matches your smile, “how about we start off with breakfast? you can come back tomorrow morning, and you can meet my family and we can get caught up on... family dealings.”

you nod, “that sounds like a plan. i’ll see you tomorrow around eight?” miguel confirms, chatting with you idly as he guides you towards the door, and subsequently, your car. waiting until you turn from view before heading back inside the house himself.

and just as promised, you’re back the next morning with a small breakfast dish -- something your mother always served when she made breakfast when you were younger. miguel had welcomed you with a bright smile, ushering you into the kitchen and introducing you to cristobal -- who would be considered your nephew.

“you’ll have to forgive me... this was set up last minute and my wife had some matters to attend to this morning, so it will be the three of us for most of the morning.” he apologized as he helped you gather some plates to build your food on, and some drinks to go with.

the two of you eat, and you slowly get to know him and what he experienced growing up -- which you find is completely different from your own, but you don’t make mention of it as he talks. you listen intently, smiling when he brings up happy memories and enjoying the way he lights up when talking those events.

the conversation turns to you, where you tell him about yourself, where he sees the big difference between the two of you. but that doesn’t stop him from asking to exchange a list of things the other hasn’t gotten to experience and take turns showing the other.

“miguel?” a voice calls from the doorway, as miguel’s wife makes her way into the house -- and it comes as a surprise to see emily, ez’s old girlfriend, coming further into the house. she pauses for a moment upon seeing you, before her face splits into a fake smile and she comes over to greet you.

“what are you doing here?” she questions, looking between you and miguel, already piecing together what she thinks could be happening. however, miguel is quick to cut off her line of thinking, “remember how i told you about the half-siblings i have? my real father is felipe reyes, which makes angel, ezekiel and this lady, my family.”

emily’s eyes flit between the two of you before she huffs, “well... then you are more than welcome here... anytime.” she all but grits out before walking off somewhere else into the house. there’s a brief moment of silence before miguel turns to you, “i forget sometimes that your brother dated her. i imagine this doesn’t make her all that comfortable.”

“no one is going to be comfortable for a while, but we need to push past that or things will never get better. and i’m not going to let my family fall through the cracks.” miguel nods in agreement at your words, before offering you one last cup of coffee and letting you finish up your stories from childhood.

once you feel as though you’ve overstayed your welcome, you excuse yourself to head home for the day and miguel offers to walk you out again, “i appreciate you coming over, and allowing me to introduce myself and learn more about my other side of the family. i truly do. and as emily stated, you are welcome here any time.”

you smile, hugging him gently on a spur of the moment thought -- quickly pulling back just as you realize what you’re doing before uttering your goodbyes. miguel smiles, waving as you drive off and thinking that this would actually be a great way to mend himself.

⋯⋯⋯ add yourself to a taglist here

✧ general taglist

@blathannabeaga

✧ mayans mc taglist

@thegirlwhowritesfics // @cherieann-2001 // @glimmerglittergirl // @socheckitout-mikey // @mayans-girl // @queenbeered // @woahitslucyylu // @hismissharley13 // @sesamepancakes // @chibsytelford // @purplerain85 // @the-jer-bear // @just1bri // @luna-asgard // @redpoodlern // @vicmackeybullshxt // @nessamc // @libraryofloveletters // @meyocoko

#mayans #mayans x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo imagine #female!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2022 #twistnet's 5k milestone

208 notes · View notes