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darklydeliciousdesires · 9 months

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It Burns Golden - An EZ/Reader/Guero One Shot Story.

SMUTTY THREESOME GOODNESS IS HERE, BESTIESSSSS!

Words - 1,687

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

It burns golden, the pleasure that streaks over your skin like a summer dawn, evoked by two mouths hungrily mapping their desire across your body. You’d gone to the clubhouse with one single-minded agenda that evening; to get laid by an outlaw.

You did not expect to go home with two. All because you couldn’t pick between them.

“Then why choose?” the younger had stated, looking at his president with a grin. “You down?”

EZ’s smirk had widened instantly. “Absolutely.”

Riding on the back of his bike while giving him directions to your home, you’d felt a little high with anticipation, your head fuzzy, your body light and tingly at the prospect of two men within your bed at once. Seeing them both strip off for you once they’d got there? It’s a visual you will carry with you forever. Feeling them both mutually attend to your pleasure? Well, that part has only just begun.

Thank goodness you have an amply sized bed.

Their mouths haven’t even encroached up erogenous areas, and yet you sizzle with the heat of a hundred suns, Guero laying licks and soft bites to your neck, EZ’s mouth kissing a smouldering path down your body, tongue circling your navel as his hands caress your thighs. You anticipate feeling the glide of his tongue to tease licks at your apex, yet it’s a different kind of tease that he has in mind.

His breath flutters warm against you, a soft lick swiping over your slit, his mouth moving to caress your inner thigh instead. He grins at your tiny whine of frustration, offering satiation by way of skimming his fingertips into the already dewy warmth of your folds. You gasp against Guero’s mouth, his hands gliding over your breasts, his tongue joining, your nipples slowly circled with heated licks.

Your hips buck at the intrusion of two fingers sliding into the velvet clasp of your cunt, EZ sitting up to watch you enjoy it, your body slowly undulating as he moves them in a wave, each sweet spot inside of you stroked with careful precision. They twist gently, seeking out ways to light you up, your head foggy with arousal as Guero brings his mouth back to yours, his hand trailing down your body.

When his fingertips reach your clit, your breath hitches, tummy juddering, the dark fire of his eyes burning into yours before you exchange kisses of syrupy heat once more. EZ lowers to sprinkle kisses up your side, each of your hands stroking them both, their skin a sumptuous blanket of tattooed muscles against you, mouths kissing prayers of lust over your flesh.

The circled drag of fingertips over your clit coupled with the thorough, yet slow plunge into your slick core makes you feel as if you’re burning slow, EZ’s hand grasping your jaw as Guero’s mouth moves back to your nipple, his lips pressing to yours, kissing you with chilling heat. Your grasp at the back of his neck, melding yourself with him before he slips from you, sucking your nipple on his way back down your body.

You thrum with the pleasure of it, being touched so expertly by them both, their fingers making you feel as if moonbeams streak from the very darkest depths of you, lighting you in a way you have never been illuminated before. Guero moves his hand away, the two fingers dampened from you pushed into your mouth, watching you suck them, his big hand clasping your jaw, kissing you fiercely as EZ’s tongue finally lays wet heat where you crave it the most.

The fever of it rushes through you, winds tight, Guero’s teeth prickling your lower lip at the exact same time EZ wraps your clit in the hot suck of his lips, making your muscles cord, your back arching off the bed. Big hands push you down, EZ holding you still, the tip of his tongue circling, nerve endings caressed with sublimity.

His thumb tugs your clit hood back, your little bud standing out more to the onslaught of his hungry, relentless mouth. The groans against you are rich and full-bodied, your hand curling around his head, nails scraping over his shaven hair, the other buried in the roots of the soft, dark locks of the man who moves to kiss you wantonly.

They are the two dark stars who move in orbit around you, EZ’s hands gripping your thighs as you reach to your nightstand and yank the drawer open, pulling out necessary items in a long strip of condoms and a bottle of lube. The latter is put to immediate use, pumping a slick into your hand, wrapping it around Guero’s cock, biting your lip as a pleasant roll of warmth curls through you to feel his girth.

Your free hand cups his face, kissing the groan from his lips as your hand tightens and drags, feeling his hardness bob against your grip, your thighs closing in around EZ’s face. The faint prickle of stubble rubs your skin as he eats you with aplomb, lips tight at your clit, fingers buried so deep, your slick gently trickles out over his knuckles.

His teeth gently graze your bud, and it sends sparks skittering through you, tongue rolling over you again firmly, heat misting your spine. While EZ licks utter divinity against you, you begin to pump faster on Guero’s cock, his mouth leaving yours, his groan a bonfire of sound that roars through your blood, his teeth grazing your neck as his hips sway forward to fuck into the wet grasp of your hand.

Pre cum seeps from him, your thumb circling the slit of his cock, his body trembling at your side, his moans a deep gravel as his chest heaves, and you begin to pull it from him, your eyes fixed upon his.

“Mmm, that’s it, gorgeous,” you encourage, hand quickening upon him, “come for me.” His mouth lands upon yours, hot, messy kisses somewhat muting the deep growl as he twitches and spills over your hand, panting against your tongue.

“Fuck,” he grits, breathless and still trembling, your hand gentling upon him. “Fuck, you ruined me.”

You chuckle wickedly, mouth scattering kisses down the tattooed side of his neck. “Not yet, I haven’t.” You reach for some tissues, cleaning your hand, beckoning for EZ as you sit up, pulling his mouth to yours. A quick, fluid shift in bodies has him lying back against the pillows, your mouth gliding down the splendour of his muscle ridged torso, and Guero lying beneath you on his back.

His hands grasp your ass, pulling you down to meet his mouth, the hot wrap of pillowy heat from his lips encircling your clit, your body shivering in response. He sucks a fever at you, tongue circling, hands gliding over your back, your pussy trickling onto his tongue as he opens his mouth to drag a firm lick through your folds.

At the same time, you run a long, slow lick up the thick vein of the very hard cock before you, taking EZ into your mouth and enveloping him in a hungry suck. He goes to speak, the word ‘fuck’ knocked out of the way by a hungry groan, his head thudding back, eyes closing tightly for a few moments, opening again to watch you taking him into your throat.

You have him mindless from your mouth quickly, his hands tangling in your hair, your own arousal intensifying from the rapidly moving tongue against your clit. Pleasure begins to streak beneath your skin like meteors, Guero pushing his fingers into your dripping hole, pounding your insides until he has you gleaming and crying out.

He has it bursting from you, the pleasure crackling like a forest fire, blazing over your bones as you squeak around a mouthful of cock, a long, low groan vibrating your throat, making EZ twitch against your tongue. You’re still knocked sideways by the force of your orgasm when you see Guero’s hand reach to grasp the condoms, pulling one from the strip and moving behind you.

Anticipation creeps over your muscles, feeling him push against you, the stretch of him sending tingles through your walls. He splits you wide, fills you deep, his hands gripping your waist as he fills and empties you with long, even strokes, and god, if you could see the smile on his face at how good you feel.

It rolls through you like a storm, Guero not remaining contained for long before he’s pounding into you savagely, forcing muted little cries from you as your mouth glides upon EZ’s cock, his abs trembling as his hands fist tight in your hair, hips rising to fuck your mouth. Their moans fill the room with the sexiest harmony of sin, your fingers pattering up his chest, pinching tightly on his nipples.

White hot pleasure glints through you, tumbling down your spine like a shooting star, Guero reaching beneath you to rub circles at your clit as his cock punches you deep, splits you wide, remakes you around him. You feel boneless between them, your nails dragging each dip and rise of EZ’s torso, your eyes finding his, hazel shining gold as you watch him ascending.

He grits, a groan like tumbling boulders echoing through his chest as he spills into your throat, your mouth gentling on him before finally releasing him with a wet pop, your breaths hot at his hip as Guero fucks a storm of nirvana through your body, your hips pushing back against him as you cry out.

Your voice breaks on his name, your waves flooding his shore as you come with a feral wail, his body rapidly driving against you until his cock jerks and he’s joining you, tight bliss come undone, his head resting upon your back.

“Oh god,” you pant, EZ stroking your face, his thumb dragging your lip as you feel Guero plant kisses down your spine before he pulls from you with a little shudder. “I’m so done.”

The men both exchange a look, laughing. “No, you aren’t.”

They’re not wrong either.

A/N - Part two? Maybe... ;)

#ez reyes fanfiction #guero mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #ez reyes smut #guero smut #ez reyes x female reader #guero x female reader #ez reyes x you #ezekiel reyes fanfiction #guero x you #ez reyes fanfic #ez reyes fic #guero fanfic #guero fic #mayans mc #mayans mc imagi #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

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A Pound of Flesh - EZ Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @infinity-mars @@lobakomwonkru @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @thanossexual @thebaileybugle @oureternalbond @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @appreciatelove @weiwei0210 @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie @zaenight @wolfiekru

Sequel to The Water Tower

Prequel to "you have my life in your hands" and Drinking Tonight

Set in the Community Living Universe

The jukebox is broken. That is the first thing that EZ sees when he steps into the bar that morning. There’s a surge of something in his body, a rush of adrenaline, a flash of panic. Glass litters the floor crunching underneath the heels of his boots as he ducks behind the bar finding you absent. The stench of spirits fills his nostrils, it tastes sharp on his tongue as he surveys the mess.

His brain flashes back to that truck, the one advertising beverages coming up the road, the man he didn’t recognise in the cab. He remembers thinking it was a too early for vendors, that they usually came in the afternoon. He’s about to bolt up the backstairs to your apartment when he hears your footsteps coming down.

It sounds like thunder, a quick aggressive pace as you hurtle through the side door, your eyes blazing, and an ice pack clutched to the left side of your face.

“I told you to stay the fuck out…” You trail off when you see it’s him standing there, the fire in your eyes dying just a little. He’s in front of you before you can blink, his hand enclosing over the ice pack as he draws it away from your cheek to survey the damage. The left side of your face is already swelling, he knows it’s going to bruise by tomorrow. Your lip is split, still bleeding.

“Who was it?” He asks you. His voice is low, his face set like granite, his eyes darkening as he guides the icepack back to your face. “Was it the guy that just left?”

“EZ…” You say with a thread of warning.

He gives you a look, it’s filled with fire and brimstone as he bows his head, his nostrils flaring as he tries to repress the rage that pulses through his veins.

“Who put their hands on you?”

You turn your head away, but he cups your chin and guides your gaze back to his. You see a myriad of emotions flicker through him, he’s trying to hold it all back but it’s there underneath the surface.

“Is this about paying back the debt?”

He sees your jaw clench, the way your shoulders tense and your muscles tighten. He doesn’t expect an answer because you view this as your problem, not his. He may be your boyfriend, but this shit is on you. It’s exhausting, it has to be, trying to hold everything together and then this…

This violence, this mayhem.

“What else did he want?”

He’s been asking around about the shitheads you owe money to. He knows that the original lender, the father is sick, that his son Grady has a screw loose, that he’d been stepping up and making collections, increasing interest. The ones that are struggling to pay he leverages, a couple of hours with their women until they can scrape the money together.

“Did he…”

You shake your head, your eyes stinging. He sees it, you know he does. His gaze slips down to your clothes, to the missing buttons, the torn pocket. The scent of another man’s aftershave on your skin. It fills him with vitriol, he knows he’s going to kill the son of a bitch who put his hands on you. He’s going to wrap his hands around his throat and choke the life right out of him.

“But he tried?” EZ asks you, this thumb chasing over the blush of your cheek as he cradles your face in his hands.

He thinks that Grady must have heard the bike, that he must have known what it meant. It wasn’t a secret that you had ties to the MC, that you were his fucking girl.

“You can’t pay, can you?” He already knows the answer, that the new interest rates are too exorbitant for most people, that Grady is using that to take his pound of flesh.

He knows how much this bar means to you, that it’s the final piece of your heritage, the only thing you have left because the world has taken everything else.

“I don’t have a choice.” You tell him. “It’ll be once, just once.”

EZ looks at you sadly because it’s never just once, this kind of thing it goes on and on and on. He knows that it will destroy you, that every time a piece of your soul will leave your body until there’s nothing left. He won’t let that happen to you; he can’t bear the fucking thought of it.

In that moment he knows exactly what he has to do. He thinks of the stash of money he keeps in his father’s house, hidden behind a panel in the bathroom. His escape plan, Felipe calls it. Just in case shit goes sour with the DEA. Funds to get out of the country, to start a new life somewhere else. It’s too late for that now, he’s already started putting down roots. Even if the whole thing does blow up, he’ll face the consequences, he can’t leave Angel and he can’t leave you. You mean too much to him.

He knows what his father would say, don’t be so fucking stupid.

The thing about EZ is, he’s anything but stupid. He’s learned from his mistakes, and he knows if he lets you do this, it’s something that neither of you will come back from.

“You may not have a choice.” He says, drawing away from you. “But I do.”

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#ez reyes x reader #ez reyes fic #ez reyes x you #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x reader

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zaenight · 7 months

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●°●°CRAZY BUT SHE'S MINE°●°●

●°●Camila "Jackie" vincent●°●

●°●Iliana "losa" Reyes●°●

●°●Esmae "Marisol" Reyes●°●

●°●NOW COMPLETED●°●

CAMILA "JACKIE" VINCENT X EZEKIEL "EZ" REYES

°●°●°THE REYES FAMILIA°●°●°

#fanfic #wattpad #original character #j.d pardo #jd pardo #mayans mc fic #ez reyes #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans #ez reyes fanfiction #ezekiel reyes #mayans smut #mayans fx #scarlett estevez #jenna ortega #fiona gallagher #emmy rossum

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garbinge · 9 months

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Tribute

Angel Reyes & EZ Reyes & OFC Manny Reyes From these August Prompts: “Tribute” A/N: A little angsty moment for my favorite little fictional family. Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Mentions of death, drinking/being drunk, prison, loss of a family member, very angsty, sibling issues. Mayans MC Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705

The door creaked and the noise echoed throughout the empty church as Manny made her way in. In one hand there were flowers, her mother’s favorite, in the other hand was a note. She was the only one there, she hoped that’s how it’d stay, but she also knew better.

As she made her way up to prayer candles, she stopped at the pew that had her mother’s name etched on a golden plate. Her hand moved slowly over it, remembering how simple times were back before her passing. Remembering how difficult they were in the days after.

Angel and Felipe were the only two Reyes in the church. In fact, they were the only two people in the church at all. The memorial service for Marisol wasn’t much, just a short mass followed by the blessing of the plaque that would sit in the pew Felipe and Marisol would find themselves in most Sundays.

Now, after the frequent church goers and few friends of the family had left, Angel and Felipe were standing alone in the pew while the other two Reyes were elsewhere. EZ had a reasonable excuse to miss his mother’s memorial. He was sitting in prison, where he’d be for the next 20 years, at least. Manny on the other hand, well, no one knew where she was. Angel had called her a few times, Felipe didn’t bother. Angel wasn’t sure if they were standing here because Felipe was waiting for Marisol’s angel to appear or if they were waiting for Manny to show up, either one would be classified as a miracle.

I guess, everyday holds the possibility of a miracle. Manny came stumbling into the church. Felipe’s head didn’t turn the way Angel’s did. Angel’s eyes fell on his younger sister and he immediately knew she was drunk. Now, Felipe was on the move, walking the middle aisle to the exit of the church. He stopped when he came face to face with his daughter, leaving a kiss on her forehead. Felipe was a silent one but Manny expected him to say something to her, anything. She knew he had to smell the alcohol on her breath, the fact she was late, there had to be something he wanted to say. But there was nothing, he just made his way past her and a few minutes later the sound of a car starting filled the silence in the church.

“You missed everything.” Angel spoke up now stepping through the pew.

“And yet I still haven’t missed nearly as much as our little brother has.” Manny pointedly spoke to Angel.

“Manny don’t do this.” Angel was walking towards her now, less aggravation in his voice and more sorrow. He reached his hand out to her.

“No!” Her hand pulled back in defiance of her older brother. Angel towered over her now, but his face was filled with worry and shock that almost made him look smaller than her. “How the fuck can you stand here? Next to dad? Honoring mom? When our little fuckin’ brother is behind bars.” She shook her head, tears starting to fall down her face. Her voice was loud, it echoed in the church, it echoed in her own head, it echoed in Angel’s as well. Now she spoke quietly, the tears streaming from her face in a constant flow now. “We were supposed to protect him. We were supposed to be our brother’s keeper. There–there were 3 of us, we should have protected mom.”

Angel stepped forward and engulfed her into a hug. Manny protested at first, her fists slamming against his chest, the sobs coming from her mouth were ones of agony. “Manny, stop it.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m your big brother, I’m tryna be my sisters fuckin’ keeper right now.” Angel’s voice was full of care despite it being frustrated.

At that, Manny stopped protesting. She let her sobs out while Angel stood their with her, letting a couple of his own tears out.

After a few minutes, Manny let go of their embrace and stepped forward towards the cross that was front and center in the church. Angel didn’t follow her there, just took a seat in the memorial pew.

“Has he let you visit him?” Manny was staring up at the cross with her head tilted.

“I haven’t gone.”

Manny didn’t turn to look at him, even though she wanted to. She wasn’t shocked, but her heart definitely sunk hearing Angel say that.

“He won’t come out, I went to see him today. It’s why I’m late. I sat there for an hour waiting for him and he didn’t come out.” Manny shook her head and moved over to the candle, pulling out a few quarters to put into the coin slot to receive the match to light the candle.

“You gotta let him process.” Angel tried to defend EZ.

“And us?” Manny turned around now in a swift movement to stare at Angel, waiting for a response.

“I don’t know, Manny.” Angel leaned back more in the pew, more relaxed even though he definitely wasn’t. There was a little pride in Manny feeling like she stumped him out of a response. “We keep living our lives.” Angel’s hands lifted up in an effort to display his cluelessness of what to do.

Manny turned back to the candles, a deep breath being inhaled in at Angel’s words. Before responding, she struck the match against the sanded surface and placed it inside the candle. Her eyes closed for a few seconds, a silent prayer being said as the candle wick caught the matches flame.

She pulled the match away, waved it against the air next to her to put it out and tossed it in the match disposal bin. Her hand moved to her necklace and grabbed the locket and brought it up to her mouth and kissed it. “Te amo, Mami.”

She made her way back to the pew and plopped down next to Angel, leaning back just like he was.

“Is that how you do that?” She pointed to the prospect kutte he was wearing. “Is that how you keep living life?”

“Yea, it is.” He shook his head, trying to guage his sisters mood.

Manny hated it. It was more the idea that this group, this club, this gang was going to be taking the only brother she had left away. It meant more of a chance he’d get locked up, more of a chance he’d die. Just, the risk was higher. She had seen how the president of the club treated Angel, she had seen how they pulled him away from her grieving family. Little to her knowledge, she’d eventually come around to the club, or least some of the members in the club, she’d see the benefit of it all and how that somehow outweighed the risk but in this moment, it was new and she hated it.

Her eyes fell upon the plaque that was now bolted to the pew, the holy water still not dry on it and sitting as droplets on the etched words. In loving memory of Marisol Reyes. She would have hated it. Maybe that was also why Manny felt the need to hate it, let her mother live on.

After a few minutes she was standing up, back in the middle aisle staring at the exit doors.

“Next time you come in here, don’t have that shit on. Have some fuckin’ respect for our mother.”

Manny didn’t look at him, just began walking towards the exit. As she pushed the doors open, she was met with her car gone, and Felipe’s truck still here.

The forehead kiss. He must’ve reached into her pocket and grabbed her keys. Angel was now standing next to her, his hands in his kutte pockets.

“Pops took your car.” It should’ve been said as a question but he was just being a dick about it.

“I’m guessing you have the truck keys.” She spoke to him similarly, should’ve been a question but came out more as a statement.

“Should make you walk home.” Angel said, stepping to the car as he shook the kutte off his shoulders and threw it through the open window of the car. “But instead I’ll take you to get food.” He called out to her as he hopped into the truck, turning to her and waving his hand to rush her over to the car. “You just gonna stand there or what?”

“You just gonna stand there or what?” Angel’s voice made Manny look behind her bringing her back to the present moment.

“I’m not talking to you.” She turned back around, her hands crossed over each other as she stood in front of the statue of Saint Francis. The flowers she brought now split up in three smaller bouquets. One in the designated spot for memorial flowers, one in front of St Francis and one in the pew.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that, Manny.” Angel responded back to the girl.

“I’m surprised this place isn’t going up in flames behind you.” Manny said with an eye roll.

Angel made a face behind her, one of mockery and irritation.

“Francis was mom’s favorite saint.” EZ’s voice was the complete opposite of Angels, it was serious, like what he said meant something significant. And maybe it did, maybe what he said held some sort of significance and importance to it, but Manny didn’t care. She was mad at both of her brothers, she hadn’t seen either of them since before her apartment had gotten broken into to, she refused to see either of them after. It was their fault that it happened and while she could get past that, she couldn’t get past both of her brothers leaving her out of shit. Both of her brothers didn’t have their kuttes on, the one request Manny had that they both listened to without argument or comment. But it didn’t matter to the middle Reyes. She was still pissed at them both.

“Yea because she had two fuckin’ dogs as sons.” Her voice was ill-mannered to say the least.

“For someone who said we were gonna burn this place down by entering, you’re quick to curse in the middle of a church.” Angel said his statement so matter of factly.

“For someone who said you’d keep me in the loop you’re doing a shitty job of it.” Manny now turned around and practically bit Angel’s head off. Her frustration really bubbling over it’s limit now. “And that means you too.” Her eyes jumped to EZ before moving to the pew to sit down.

“Mom wouldn’t want us fighting.” EZ followed Manny and sat next to her on the right side of the pew.

“Mom wouldn’t want any of this.” Manny mumbled it but with how quiet the church was, both of her brothers heard it clearly.

“Mom wouldn’t want you cursing in church.” Angel sat down to Manny’s left mumbling his statement as well.

“Your mother would smack each one of you upside the head for your behavior.” Felipe’s voice caused all three of them to turn around.

“Sorry Pop.” They said in unison, the only thing the three siblings had done together in a while.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her.” He was walking past them and to the candles to light one.

“Sorry Mom.” They all spoke in unison again.

Felipe didn’t linger at the prayer candles and made his way in the pew behind the 3 siblings, sitting down just behind Manny. He spoke at a whisper, saying a pray in spanish that all the other Reyes’ bowed their head in respect to. After that and an amen from them all, they were retreating to the church’s exit. As they stood outside, the sun beaming down on them, Felipe stared up to the sky. “You’re all taking me to eat. And you’re going to act like you don’t fuckin’ hate each other because it’s your mother’s birthday. Afterwards, you can go back to whatever it is you’re fighting about.”

And with that, he was walking to his truck, getting in on the passenger side which meant he expected Manny to drive since the brothers had brought their bikes.

“Meet you at Panadería La Fé?” Manny’s tone changed completely, for her father, she would do this, it was only an hour, maybe two.

“What about Casa Romero?” Angel’s tone hadn’t changed one bit. Still whiney.

EZ and Manny both looked up at him, EZ’s hands lifting up slightly as if to say “what the fuck, bro?” without actually saying it.

“We’ll meet you at Panadería La Fé.” EZ confirmed and with that, they were off. With any luck maybe the hour of them getting along would push for them to actually get along, or at least a step in the right direction. But, none of them were holding their breath.

#mayans mc #mayans fx #angel reyes fic #angel reyes #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes fic #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #oc manny reyes #oc manny #reyes!sister #reyes sister #reyes sibling

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vikingstoner69 · 10 months

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Hey guys! My ask box is open no limit on requests just be detailed. Maybe share this so others can send in requests?

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satashiiwrites · 2 years

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fic tag game

Tagged by @outtoshatter. Thanks for the tag.

Rules - Recommend us 3 of YOUR fics: 1 that is “most popular” and 2 that are “hidden gems!”

Hm. Most popular? There’s really no contest if I’m looking at any of my stats.

Family, Familia, ‘Ohana is by far and away my most popular fic and is my take on the NavySeal!Buck trope. I really feel this works best in post-lawsuit mess era where there was just this weird resolution of things that I wanted to explore more. Throw in some timeline vagueness Hawaii 5-0 and a not yet together McDanno with a few borrowed SWAT characters (and a platonic Hondo/Decon slant) and you get this fic.

Fic summary: When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Read Family, Familia, ‘Ohana here on AO3.

As for more of a hidden gem type fics…. Hm.

This is like choosing between children.

I think I’m going to have to recommend my epic (that is still a wip and not abandoned) An Andromeda Tale, MReyder, Mass Effect Andromeda.

Why I’m recommending it: This is the fic that got me posting again after so many years of only being a reader and passive fandom participant. I’ve grown a lot as a writer because of this fic and I s2g it will get finished (eventually). I don’t think you have to have a lot of knowledge of Mass Effect Andromeda to enjoy it as I’ve tried to basically immerse the reader into the universe through Scott and Reyes’ viewpoints. In fact, it might be better if you haven’t played the game because of how much I’ve totally run with vague mentions and ideas to fill in gaps and plot holes that you could drive a Mac truck through. This is my take on an epic space opera as told by two people caught in the lynchpin of fate.

Fic summary: Scott Ryder never saw his life going this way, not that anyone ever asked him his opinion. Now he's pathfinder with too many people depending on his young shoulders and trying to figure out what he actually wants for himself. Reyes Vidal, man of mystery, former pilot and now sometimes smuggler. Who knows where he came from or his motivations but he's come to Andromeda to change his destiny. What neither Scott nor Reyes could have predicted is what their lives would be once they came to Andromeda.

Read An Andromeda Tale here on AO3

As for a third recommendation…. Hm. I really could recommend a few of these that don’t get enough love. I’m going to go with my only other long form wip that is another take on my favorite Sentinel/Guide trope, The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss, Mayans MC, Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, Sentinel/Guide AU.

Why this fic? Why another wip instead of a completed fic? Because you don’t need to know much about the universe to enjoy it—again probably better if you don’t since the more you watch of the show the more impossible the main pairing of Miguel and EZ is. They’re not related in this fic and it’s very AU. It’s also possibly the fic where I’ve done the most world building outside of my MReyder epic above and my brain likes to chew on these sort of fics like a dog with a favorite bone. Odds are when i’m out on my daily run or walk it’s one of these three fics that my brain is turning over how to approach my next plot point.

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.

Read The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss here on AO3

Anyways, if you want complete fics of mine go read Seguir or I Wasn’t Looking Until I Found You.

Tagging @radio-chatter @quietborderline @tkwritesdumbassassins @missanniewhimsy @bwtch @imsupposedtobewritting and anyone else who i forgot or wants to participate. No pressure as always.

#Family familia ‘ohana #an andromeda tale #the outlaw and the cartel boss #fic rec tag game #mreyder #mcdanno #buddie #Miguel Galindo x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes #fic recs

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rosecarlate · 2 years

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Writing this Zaven fic breaks my heart... Giving Shaw the backstory he deserved and I hate to say I love the way the story goes, so tragic yet beautiful in the end.

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fic #raven reyes #zeke shaw #miles ezekiel shaw #zaven #pilot mechanic

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berberriescorner · 2 years

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Hey just wondering do you know anyone else who writes for Mayans MC with a black reader? I love the show and your stories I have you blackmissfrizzle (sorry if I spelt it wrong), shewritesinblackandwhite (also sorry if I spelt it wrong) and yourself

Sorry this took me awhile to respond. I wanted to tag all these amazing writers master list, but some wouldn’t let me post. Here are a few lovely people that write black reader Mayans fics. I tagged both their name and master list💓:

@brattyfics

@breanime

@superhoeva

@tomhardydallasstarsgirl

@samwilsonsbabymama

@crushed-pink-petals-writes

@blessedboo

@calif0rnia-lovers

@joannasteez

@hennyjwrites

@hihellogoodbyebruh I would’ve tagged your master list but I couldn’t get the link to post. Sorry lovely🥺💓.

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drabbles-mc · 8 months

Text

Always

EZ Reyes & GN!Reader

Word Count: 100

A/N: i'm not a drabble writer, despite what my URL says 😂😂 but i was going through and clearing some old stuff out of my WIP folder and came across?? this??? I'm sure at the time it was supposed to be the start to a longer story. but it was almost 100 words exactly so i just trimmed it up and I'm sending it into the world as a drabble now. enjoy 😌 (divider by @silkholland 💕)

“Hey, Ezekiel?” your soft voice cut through the silence of his bedroom.

“Yea?” he whispered from the floor.

“Do you ever get the feeling that everything is about to change? Like a weird knot in your stomach?”

There was a long pause before he responded, “Sometimes, I guess. Why? Is that what you’re feeling now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” a few seconds of silence passed, “We're always gonna be friends, right?”

You heard the rustling of blankets on the floor as he sat upright. Even in the darkness that enveloped his room, you could make out his silhouette, “Yea, always.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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darklydeliciousdesires · 7 months

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Hello there lovely! If your drabble requests are still open, may I please request prompt #2 with.....EZ

🌻

It's about time I got to this! Here you are :)

Slight smut leaning below the cut, minors DNI!

Even in the cooler months, the heat of the border town has never lended to the need for long coats. Hence your boyfriend instantly guessing its purpose when you arrive wearing one.

"You're not wearing anything beneath that, are you?"

Your fingers play teasingly with the buttons upon the black trench, undoing them slowly while maintaining eye contact, letting it fall to reveal your nudity.

He hums in approval, welcoming you onto his lap when you move to sit astride him. "I'm only surprised you didn't decide to wrap yourself in a bow."

Your soft laughter is peppered with a couple of gasps, the feeling of his mouth meeting your nipples in turn making glimmers tingle across your skin. "Why? My favourite thing to have wrapped around me is you."

Reaching for his top, you pull it over his head, revealing the utter splendour that is his wide, hard chest. The delight in your eyes is mirrored in his, leaning to kiss him, stroking his face with your fingertips. "Happy birthday, baby. I hope you like your present."

"I don't," he murmurs, mouth laying kisses across your neck. "I fucking love it. Every last bit of it."

He spends the entire evening showing you how much, too.

#ez reyes #ez reyes fanfiction #ezekiel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc #ez reyes x female reader #ez reyes x you #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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bullet-prooflove · 9 months

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🌹🌹

It's you that calls him not the other way around. He doesnt know what to expect when you invite him to the bar, he feels the trepidation in his chest. He's tried to keep his head down over the last few days, keep focus but this thing that he's done it haunts him.

You or the debt, it was always going to play out this way.

He won't apologise for it. He stands by his choice. He would make the exact same one over and over again because he loves you and he can't stand to see you broken.

- Untitled Fic (Rough Draft)

#ez reyes fic #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes x you #ezekiel reyes x reader

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zaenight · 7 months

Text

CRAZY BUT SHE'S MINE CHAPTER 24 FINAL CHAPTER

"I SWEAR TO GOD IM GONNA POP THIS KID OUT RIGHT NOW IF SOMEBODODY DOESN'T GET THE DAMN KEYS , SOMEONE SOBER!" Jackie exclaimed in pain , gripping onto Ez's arm.

"I got them , here , go ! Lets go everyone to the cars , sober people behind the wheels !" Angel exclaimed as Luisa told them The sons were outside.

"BABY REYES IS COMING!" Tig exclaimed bursting in.

"SHUT UP ALE-GET THE KEYS!" Jackie yelled out in Pain.

Finally making it to the car They drove off too the hospital , the sons driving the too drunk too drive mayans.

"No , no , Mierda!,we're almost there mom , you can't birth the baby in the back of a truck!" Illiana groaned , as Jackie cried out in pain.

Felipe gave his truck , and offered to watch maverick for Luisa and angel.

Angel drove , with Luisa in the passenger side , in the back Jackie had her head on Ez's lap , and legs on Illiana's lap.

"Im gonna kill you!" Jackie groaned , as Ez played with her hair.

"We're almost there Camila." He said , as she gripped his hand.

"Yo I think im gonna throw up." Angel said as Luisa smacked him.

--------

The sons had to leave a bit Early , much to Tigs dismay , but he demanded pictures.

"Im gonna kill you , OH FUCK!" Jackie said pushing.

"C'mon Camila , you can do it Mi reina." Ez said , As Jackie pushed , as she screamed , a loud wail filled the room.

"It's a girl , A beautiful baby girl." The doctor said , as the baby cried.

"Do you have a name?" The doctor asked , as He let Ez cut the umbilical cord.

"Esmae "Marisol" Reyes , that's her name." Jackie said as Ez Sat by her , Passing her the now calm baby , kissing the tired woman's forhead , painful labour , and a natural

birth with no medication took a toll on the woman's body.

"You did it Querida." Ez said as She held their baby.

"No , We did it Ezekiel." Jackie said with a glance , small smile on her face.

---------

"Angel , Luisa , we want you to be Esmae's godparents." Ez said to his brother and future

sister-in-law.

"Esmae?" Angel questioned.

"Esmae "Marisol" Reyes , thats her name , That's your Goddaughter ." Jackie said sitting up with the help of Luisa , Illiana was holding Esmae , gushing over her new baby sister.

Angel's eye's lit up as Illiana passed Esmae to him , and he cried , he fucking cried.

"Shut up." He said to Ez , who chuckled.

The club members all got their turn to hold baby Esmae , Later on Gurero and bottles left , along with Luisa who had to take care of maverick.

"Hey? before you went into labour you wanted to tell me somthing?" Ez questioned , the club asleep outside , while illiana slept on the couch in the room..

"Ezekiel I want to get married and be your old lady , I love you." Jackie said as Ez had a smile on his face.

Until the door burst open , Illiana popped up , Esmae started to cry , and jackie stared at the police.

The club was in cuffs , cursing the police.

"Mayans Mc , your under arrest for mutiple charges." Frankie told them.

"Just let me hold my little girl

and say goodbye to my wife

and kid before you arrest me

and the guys, please." Ez told him , as illiana handed the baby to him , holding her with one arm , he wrapped another around Illiana , Jackie's hand rested on his knee.

"Los amo a los tres, y cuando salga, nos casaremos y todo eso, Jackie, te lo prometo, lo siento." Ez told them , kissing Esmae's forhead one last time , Before putting her in Jackie's arms , and holding his girls one last time , before he was taken away in cuffs.

(I love the three of you , and when I get out , We're getting married and everything Jackie , I promise you that , Im sorry.)

----------

*~*8 YEARS LATER*~*

----------

"Dad's getting out soon , he hates when we go visit because he doesn't like us seeing him behind the glass but really he loves it because then he knows we're okay." Illiana said, she was now 24 , although she looked the same as the day Jackie met her , she still lived with them of course , She's had girlfriends , but none of them worked like it did with Natalia.

"Let's go , let's go!,

he's gonna think it's

a normal visit but really

we're going to bring

him home." A now eight year old esmae exclaimed , never getting to hug her father , due to the glass.

"Ok , ok , come on you two ." Jackie said , as Sally barked , Jackie laughed.

"Ok , you Three , there happy , lets go , lets go!" Jackie exclaimed as The three girl's and the Pit walked out the door.

--------

Ez reyes , and the Club had gotten Eight years to life , or so they thought , the warden saw there good behaviour , and without their knowledge was going to release them.

Gurero had patched in Nestor and Bottle's due to the request of The club , the threeupdating the reyes brothers of their family.

They also play Princesses with Esmae , Illiana uses the pictures of them in tutu's and tiara's as blackmail.

Luisa brings the now ten year old maverick over for playdate's , the two cousins adore eachother.

The Sons adored the little girl , she was a ball of sunshine , in this dark world.

----------

"Ezekiel Reyes , you have visitors." The guard stated.

Usually they just took them out for visiting , so Ez was a bit confused , Especially when he saw his brother and the club being taken to the visitor's room.

"DADDY!" Esmae exclaimed , So did Maverick as They ran to their fathers.

As the men picked up their kids , the gave a confused glance.

Jackie walked over to ez , Pulling him into a long kiss.

Illiana laughed , as Esmae made a gagging noise , hugging her father , and with much suprise she walked over to Bishop , pulling him into a hug.

"What-" Ez was about to say as Jackie laughed.

"Your out Ez , Free , YOU BOYS ARE COMING HOME!" Jackie exclaimed.

"Wha-How?" Creeper stated confused.

"Good behaviour , and a bit of womanly manipulation , and a bit of help from Emily , She's a hell of a lawyer." Jackie stated as her and Luisa smirked at eachother.

"NOW LETS GET YOU TWO MARRIED!" Illiana exclaimed.

"Right now!?" Ez exclained.

"Yes right now , Mom has the dress , we got the suits , we got the ven- LET'S GO VAMOS!" She exclaimed As Esmae frabbed her father's hand , and Illiana grabbed her mothers.

"What the fuck!" Angel exclaimed , as Maverick wacked him.

"Language!" The boy said as Luisa chuckled , pulling angel into a kiss.

-------

They did it they got Married , Letty and hope cheered as she walked down the Isle , Illiana and Esmae holding flowers and the rings , Felipe officiating the wedding.

"Do you Ezekiel "Lorenzo" Reyes take this lovely bride as your wife." Felipe said.

"I do " Ez said.

"And do you , Camila "Jackie" Vincent , take my idiot son , as your husband." Felipe said.

"I do." Jackie snorted, as Ez rolled his eyes.

"You may now kiss the fucking bride , trata a su hijo correcto." Felipe said , as They all Cheered.

(treat her right son)

Did I mention Tig walked her down the Isle , no well he did.

---------

*small smut*

--------

"Fuck , I've been wanting to do this since I saw you." Ez growled.

Jackie moaned as he thrusted into her , Holding on too the bed sheets , knuckels turning white .

Ez kissed her chest , listening to her moans , made him fuck her even harder.

As he came in her He rested his head on her shoulder , her hands tracing shape's on his bare back.

"I fucking missed you Ezekiel." Jackie said.

"I fucking missed you too Camilia , you and your fucking Crazy ass." He said as they laid side by side.

"Im crazy but-" She was cut off by a kiss.

"Your mine." Ez said as their kiss was turned into round two.

---------

THANK YOU FOR READING CRAZY BUT SHE'S MINE , THE SECOND BOOK I HAVE COMPLETED.

-------

HERE ARE MY OTHER BOOKS THAT YOU MIGHT LIKE.

--------

WANHEDA COMMANDER OF DEATH // BRANDON CARVER (THE WALKING DEAD)

MAMA DIDN'T RAISE NO BITCHES // EZ REYES & NESTOR OCTEVA (MAYANS MC)

HIS GIRL // JOSÈ MARQUEZ (CLUBHOUSE 2004)

HIS DOWN BITCH , HER CHOLO // ERNESTO MENDOZA (HOPE RANCH 2002)(COMPLETED)

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

THE DRAGON AND HER KNIGHT // BELLAMY BLAKE (THE 100)

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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?? **

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