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#ezekiel reyes
drabbles-mc · 5 months
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📸 credit: Michael Irby's Instagram
I just love and miss them sm 🥺
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Your Biker in Worn Leather
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader
Category: Angst/Comfort
Word count: 353
Summary: You call EZ to pick you up and his temper goes through the roof at the state you’re in.
Warnings: Mentions of cuts, scratches, and bruises
Part 2
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.
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“Can you please come and get me?” Those words played on loop in EZ’s head, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared voice out of his head. You didn’t tell him what happened or if you were hurt, only where to pick you up from.
Ezekiel was quick to jump on his bike and speed to your location. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, mind racing a mile a second thinking about all the possible scenarios you could be in. By the time EZ finally found you on the side of the street, it was pouring rain and you had no rain coat or umbrella to shield you. As EZ took off his helmet and goggles, he noticed you were shaking and that’s when you immediately raced towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, not giving him the chance to get off his bike. EZ’s arms instinctively enveloped you in a tight embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. Neither one of you cared that you were getting drenched and could possibly end up with a cold tomorrow. You needed him, his safety, his protection, and you needed him as close as possible. EZ allowed the hug to last a few more moments. “Let’s get you dry, okay?” He spoke softly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.
You nodded against his shoulder before pulling yourself out of his arms. As you did so, EZ caught sight of the state you were in, a busted lip, bruises decorating your arms, and a red cheek. EZ’s blood boiled more and more as he saw each bruise, scratch, and cut littering your body. “Who did this to you?” He blurted out, causing you to jump at his stern tone and clenched jaw. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know who did this to you?” He apologized before asking again, this time in a calmer tone.
You knew exactly who did this, and you knew EZ would revel in setting the score.
General Taglist: @kmc1989
EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight
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cinemapix · 5 months
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MAYANS M.C. (2018 - 2023) Season 5, Episode 1: I Hear the Train A-Comin
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bullet-prooflove · 3 months
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Valentine's Day Bingo: Polaroid - EZ Reyes x Reader (NSFW)
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Tagging: @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @alwaysachorusgirl @anime-weeb-4-life @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @thatesqcrush @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @thanossexual @thebaileybugle @weiwei0210 @justreblogginfics @wolfiekru @skyesthebomb @delightfulbelieverwerewolf @fleureeee @jeybae
Hitting the Naughty Pictures Bingo Square
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EZ is in a motel room up in Joshua Tree when he finds the polaroids tucked away inside the book he’s reading. He remembers you picking it up from the nightstand this morning, before handing it over to him with that sinful smile of yours. He sits down on the bed before he removes them from between the pages, his thumb chasing over the images.
He’d gotten you the camera for your birthday. You’re nostalgic at heart, you have an affinity for vintage, it’s why the bar still has an old-fashioned jukebox.
He can’t see your face in these pictures, but he knows it’s you, he recognises the tattoo that chases up your ribcage, disappearing into the panties that you’re wearing. His cock gets hard, and he remembers peeling them off you last night as he was going down on you. These must have been taken before that. He flicks to the next one, the bra is gone, and he can see those dusky pink nipples, the ones he loves getting his mouth on. He lies back amongst the sheets, his palm caressing his cock through the rigid denim of his jeans as he imagines the sweet little noise you make as his tongue laps over each one.
The next picture is of that pretty pussy of yours, the panties are gone, and you’re laid out bare for him. He moans out loud because the sight of it, it gets him right where he needs to be. By the time he shoves his hand into his jeans, he’s sensitive and leaking. His thumb smears pre-cum over the tip of his dick, all it takes is a single stroke and he’s done for. He comes all over his fist, white streaks painting his abdomen. He smiles to himself in the aftermath, the polaroids still clutched in his hand. It isn’t until that moment that he realises that you’ve written on the back.
Happy Valentine’s Day Ezekiel x
Love EZ? Get added to his tag list!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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bumblesimagines · 8 months
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"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"
"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."
- EZ Reyes
"You're always so quick to defend them. What's the real reason behind your loyalty?"
"How convenient, showing up whenever they need you."
pronouns: they/them, gender neutral
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You considered yourself to be rather laidback when it came to exes. You chose your partners carefully and deliberately, ensuring the relationship wouldn't end up being a waste of time. It's why you'd been so certain about Ezekiel Reyes.
The sweet, charismatic biker caught your eye the moment he'd sauntered into the courthouse as a prospect. He appeared humble and thoughtful, taking his duties as prospect seriously and often helping you tend to the bar whenever possible. You knew his past from the other members. A young man set on avenging his mom faced the consequences of accidentally shooting an officer. His story had been gut-wrenching and you sympathized with him.
But, as you looked through the trailer's window and watched him speak with Emily Galindo, you wondered if you had made the right choice.
"How convenient," You murmured as Ez entered the trailer and tossed his gloves aside. "Showing up whenever I need you."
"She has no idea it's your birthday, (Y/N). Don't be like that."
"Don't be like what, Ezekiel?" You snapped and he blinked, leaning back slightly at the irritated tone lacing your voice. Sally stirred beside you, a soft whine emitting from her throat. You ran your hand over her soft fur and inhaled sharply, attempting to ease your growing anger.
"Em's done nothing to you. I don't get why you hate her so much." You took another deep breath and rubbed the bridge of your nose at his words. For a guy known for his intelligence and quick-thinking, he sure was clueless when it came to his little ex.
"You're always so quick to defend her. What's the real reason behind your loyalty? Because that little blonde brat doesn't give a shit about you, Ez."
His brows knitted and a frown stretched out on his face. "Don't call her that-"
"Oh, my god." You breathlessly laughed and stood up, snatching your phone and wallet from the table. You shook your head, almost in disbelief, and faced him.
"If you want to be her little servant so badly, go for it. Don't come crying back to me when she keeps choosing her husband over you."
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kyaikoo · 10 months
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photobomb 🎵
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mysoulisasunflower · 8 months
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+ Bonus with KJ
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Papa Filipe
Mayans MC | 1.3 "Búho/Muwan"
Mayans MC | 1.7 "Gato/Mis"
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mayans-mc · 4 months
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berberriescorner · 1 year
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What love language(s) do you think EZ Reyes, Angel Reyes, Chris Evans, and Rio each have?
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Oh, I love this! Sorry it took a minute to get back to you. I wanted to think it over and put a great deal of thought into my answer. It's kind of lengthy, so brace yourself😂 . Just a reminder, this is based on my opinion y'all. Don't jump down my throat if you disagree😂.
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Angel Reyes:
His love language would be words of affirmation. The oldest Reyes (well technically the middle 😂👀) loves reassurance. He finds that in the small things. Hearing you tell him, "I love you, papa," or "I appreciate you." Means the world to him. It's just something about the way you say the words, "I'm proud of you," that warms his heart. He may come off as a nonchalant jerk, but deep down Angel has a heart of gold. Though he struggles with communication. He appreciates that it comes easy to you. That you know when he's trying to shut you out. "Angel, I've given you two days to stew in your anger. I don't know what the issue is, but that changes today. Talk to me. What's on your mind? What can I do to help?" This is enough to get him to release all his emotions. He loves that you're willing to listen to him vent. He feels you are the only person that can actually hear and understand him.
Angel also spills over into the love language of physical touch. He loves it when you two are just lounging around. His head is in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair, giving light kisses here and there. He loves when you play with the rings on his hands. Angel knows the feel of his cool rings soothes your heated skin. The warmth of your skin is a result of the naughty things he's always telling you. He loves getting you riled up, knowing that in a matter of minutes, you'll be begging to feel those ringed fingers messaging your silky flesh.
Ezekiel Reyes:
Like his older brother, this Reyes blends two different categories as well. Having spent quite a bit of time locked up. I would have to say that Ezekiel's first love language would be quality time. Losing all that time makes him appreciate that he has it now. He would want to spend as much time with his lady as possible. They don't even really have to be doing much, he just wants to be in her presence. He would love nothing more than to stay in, cuddled under a blanket reading one of his favorite books to you. He loves that you snuggle into him and listen, asking questions about the book here and there. EZ reads until he hears light snores fall from your lips. Looking down, he brushes the hair from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. He would probably stare at you for a few moments and then carry you to bed, tucking you and himself in.
Then there is his secondary love language as much as he loves quality time. Ezekiel also has an appreciation for acts of service. He deals with a lot, whether it be family or the club. The fact that you're always willing to step in and help him out, makes him love you even more. He loves that you always stop in and check on his dad. That you offer to help him with household chores and cooking dinner. He doesn't have to worry about him on runs, because he knows you're there checking and spending time with Felipe.
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Chris Evans:
We all know he tends to be a workaholic. Every time we turn around, he’s starring in a different project. I'm going to guess that his love language is quality time. He comes off as someone who likes to stay low-key and to himself. Chris also seems like a homebody. I can picture him wanting you all to himself, opting for a quiet evening alone at home. It could be a candle-lit dinner that the two of you made together. Maybe even a night cuddling in bed, binging your favorite movies/tv shows. I can picture him staring down at you, smiling at how cute your laugh sounds. His hand rubs your arm as you cuddle against him, eyes glued to the television. Eyes still locked on you, he’ll pull you closer and place a kiss on your forehead. Chris takes in your features, appreciating that you look gorgeous in just your PJs. You feel him staring, and once you've made eye contact, that quality time turns into passion.
You know what? I’m going to throw in physical touch as well. Chris has been on record saying he deals with anxiety. Hear me out. I’m willing to bet that he craves physical touch. It comes in handy when he’s dealing with stress or anxiety. I can picture the two of you spending time together in his hotel before a premiere or interview on a press tour. Yes, he’s walked the red carpet and sat down for numerous appearances, but his nerves run wild each time. With you by his side, the nerves and anxiety subside as you hug him tightly and kiss his cheek wishing him good luck for the night. “You feeling a little anxious, baby? Just relax. That charming smile and charismatic personality will get you through it,” you tell him as you rub your hands up and down his arms. The tension and worry slowly drain from his body from the feel of your touch. “Thank you, honey,” he pecks your lips as he prepares to head out.
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Rio:
Actions speak louder than words with Mr. Gang-Friend himself. In my opinion, Rio is a blend of two love languages, just like the other sexy men listed above. The first is acts of service, and the second: physical touch. He takes pride in his work and loves being the sole provider of the house (even if his significant other chooses to have a successful career of their own). His partner speaks his love language by taking care of other things. Rio can always look forward to coming home to a warm meal. To him, it doesn’t matter if you cooked it yourself or ordered takeout. Just the act of making sure he’s eaten is enough to make him feel loved. You pick up any slack he may have with the kids when his work interferes. All of you understand the importance of what he’s trying to do for the family. It’s also little things, such as having a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him in the mornings. Rio loves the way you take care of him when he’s feeling under the weather. His stubborn ass will swear up and down that he’s not sick. “Baby, I’m fine. Just tired is all.” That’s until it hits him hard, turning him into a whiny sick man child. “Baby, can you make me some soup? Please and thank you, mama.” He’ll roll his eyes at the fact that you were right and call him out about it. He’s fully aware that you have other responsibilities, which makes him even more appreciative.
Are we surprised that the other love language is physical touch? Y’all know this man can’t keep his hands to himself, and he loves that you are the same. Believe it or not, what he appreciates most is that you always know when he needs it. Over time you’ve learned his moods and mannerisms. It’s not hard for you to tell when he’s had a horrible day. Rio doesn’t even have to utter a single word. You just know. One look at him, and you’re crossing the room to get to him as quickly as possible. Rio, meeting your embrace, soaks in the feeling of your arms wrapping around his waist. He grins at the fact that you have to stand on your toes to peck his lips. This small gesture alone is enough to ease his tense muscles. Rio will then spend time with the kids as you warm his plate. Once he’s nice and full, it’s bedtime for everyone. The two of you shower together once the kids have been tucked in. After a nice calming shower, the both of you fall into bed. He’ll slide between your legs, lying on your chest. As the pair of you cuddle, it makes him comfortable enough to vent about his frustrations from the day. Your hands massage his scalp and eventually lull him into a peaceful sleep.
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I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did answering it😆🥰! Be sure to leave your thoughts. Please feel free to comment and reblog, lovelies!
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ficnation · 9 months
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Shadow of a Broken Heart - EZ Reyes x Reader
Summary: Losing someone you love exposes the darkest side of what your friend is capable of. A broken heart opens a path for a twisted mind.
Word count: 1,4k+
Pairing: Platonic! Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Female! Reader; mentioned! Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x Reader
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayans MC season 5, mayans mc typical warnings, pure angst
A/n: Another angsty piece for EZ because I’m never forgiving him for what he did to Neron. Enjoy the heartbreak and please reblog if you liked it!
Main Masterlist
Mayans MC Masterlist
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A tense and heated silence fills the vehicle, your breathing deep and steady as you stare at the trailer ahead. Your knuckles are tight and white, your grip on the gun firm. With each breath, the weight of your grief and your need for vengeance grows, fueling your resolve.
You won’t let your loved one’s death go unpunished; EZ is going to pay the ultimate price for taking away his life. He’s going to die at the hands of his own friend, feeling betrayed just like Neron did. There was no way you’d let him go out easily after what he’s done.
As you let out a deep breath, your grip on the gun tightens even more. Your eyes are locked on your target’s home. Your mind is a vortex of emotions and thoughts—the sound of your heartbeat is deafening.
The tension is palpable as you wait, steeling yourself for the moment ahead. You are ready. You are prepared to carry out your vengeance, hoping for the sweet release of the overwhelming weight of your grief and anger that have been crushing you for the past few weeks.
You make sure the safety is on before you stick the gun beneath the waistband of your jeans. While it is still concealed, you can feel it pressed against your spine, the cold, metallic sensation of the firearm sending a chill down your spine.
Your heart is still pounding, your body tensing at every tiny sound, each muscle coiled and ready to strike. But your mind is calm and focused, determined to do what you came here for.
You jump out of the car, and your boots hit the dry earth below with a dull thud. The cool night air is a slight relief from your hot, boiling emotions. You straighten up as you leave the door open, afraid of making too much noise.
You reach the trailer, hesitating for a moment as your raised fist hovers over the plastic surface of the door. You stop your racing mind and bring your hand down, knocking gently.
The knock, even so quiet, reverberates throughout the night on the quiet street as you stand motionless, waiting to see if anyone will open the door—if your thirst for EZ’s blood will be satisfied.
You all but exhale when you hear the creaking of the floor inside. The steps get closer and closer then finally, Ezekiel Reyes inches the door open, peeking through the small gap.
You play the game and drop your shoulders with a defeated shrug. The bags under your eyes and the sadness of your frown are convincing enough for EZ to open the door fully. You force your eyes to tear up just like you did when you were a kid and your mom didn’t want to buy you ice cream. It looks real—believable.
The man you once considered a brother steps aside to let you in. He closes the plastic door as you look around the trailer. You knew beforehand Sofie had received an emergency call from her coworker asking for her assistance on the night shift. You were glad you bumped into Bottles, and he let the information slip.
You sit on the bed and put your head in your hands—elbows digging into the flesh of your thighs as you fake a sniffle. “I miss him so much, EZ. I don’t think I can go on much longer,” you mumble out, your voice breaking slightly.
You are amazed at just how good you’re at this because the dark-eyed man squats in front of you without a second thought. He places his large hands on your knees as he tries to look you in the eyes. You want to dig his eyes out and leave them hanging out of the sockets just by the nerves.
“I know it’s painful,” he says softly, and you let him guide your arms down. His skin touching yours makes you want to spit in his face.
“I’m like a fucking shadow without him. A shadow of a broken heart.” You clench your eyes shut as you let the tears spill down your cheeks, the black mascara leaving traces on your skin. “I’m nothing without him. I don’t know who I am or what I am supposed to do,” you sob, the words sound almost choked out. You’re telling the truth this time; you don’t even have to force it—the words spilling out of your mouth, the pain behind them, honest.
He hushes you, bringing your hands to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles in hopes of soothing you. You look into his eyes, searching for some glimmer of understanding, some shred of reason behind the betrayal. You’re desperate to find a tiny piece of remorse or guilt in them. But you know eyes can only say so much. His dark irises give away nothing, his gaze cold and indifferent—devoid of the warmth and patience he pretends to hold for you, lacking the Reyes’ love you had once come to know.
Your heart sinks, and you suddenly understand the truth. Your “friend” is no longer the person you once knew and trusted. He’s not the sweet prospect that always listened to your ramblings when you visited the clubhouse. He’s not the man that spent days with you just because Neron was sent on a long mission and you were drowning in worry.
You don’t know this man who kneels before you now and pretends to be your friend. He became a completely different person, someone that you can no longer trust or rely on. It is a devastating reality, and the pain of betrayal cuts even deeper into your heart—it claws at it and leaves marks that’ll never heal.
You know he doesn’t even slightly feel threatened by your presence. If he had reservations when he opened the door, they evaporated just as quick as you stepped foot into the trailer. You were just a woman, a creature smaller and weaker than a man like him. There was nothing about you that screamed danger. He allowed himself to drop his guard down—a mistake he’ll pay for.
“Don’t give up. One day you’ll wake up, and it won’t hurt anymore. You’re gonna get through it.” As your name leaves his lips after his empty promise—you almost shudder. He stands up and kisses the crown of your head—the nausea his touch draws out of you keeps growing. “Do you want to stay at the clubhouse tonight? I can keep you company. Maybe we can finish a bottle of tequila like in the good old days,” he offers.
You want to believe he’s genuine so badly. You want Neron back. You want your friend—the good version of Ezekiel Reyes—back. But deep down, you know you already made peace with the fact that it’ll never happen, that it’s time to say goodbye to both of them before they’ll drag you down with them.
You agree with a simple nod of your head and let EZ pull you to your feet and out of the trailer. He walks ahead, spinning the keys to the clubhouse in his fingers as he whistles a tune under his nose. You follow him, heart palpitating. You have to do it now, or you’ll lose your bravery.
Ezekiel looks back at you when you reach the door to the clubhouse, his eyes studying you. For a second, a fear pops into your head that maybe he’s well aware of the plan you made up in your head, and he’s just toying with you, but it disappears instantly when the man turns away and jabs the key into the keyhole.
You don’t wait. You pull the gun out of your waistband and stand behind him, raising it to his head. Your fingers pop the safety off, and you watch as EZ freezes, his shoulders tensing.
“You were like a family to me,” you mumble out, feeling the tears gathering in your eyes. You know if you give him a few more minutes, the shock will wear off, and he’ll overpower you in an instant, slapping the gun straight out of your hands. “I hope Neron doesn’t give you a second of peace down there, you lying piece of rat shit.”
Your fingers are steady as you pull the trigger. The shot reverberates through the night as the blood and brain tissue splatter on your face. The man in front of you takes his last breath as he falls face-first onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. You kick him in the ass for good measure before you turn away and jump down the steps, leaving him on the doorstep of his beloved club. When his brothers find his body the next morning, you’ll be long gone, somewhere far away from Santo Padre.
You don’t feel the sweet relief you hoped for.
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drabbles-mc · 1 month
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On the Run
EZ Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, angst
With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!
Prompt: colorful
Word Count: 500
A/N: unwell about him, truly
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For the longest time it felt like the only color he could see was red. In his clothes, on his hands, behind his eyelids when they were closed. It was inescapable, the blood that coated everything. There was no one to blame for it but himself, either. It was a mess of his own making.
He tried to run away from it. Days spent on the run trying to get as far away from it as possible turned into weeks. Weeks of constantly looking back over his shoulder, like he was leaving a trail of blood behind him that was going to lead them all right to him. It’d serve him right, and he knew that, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from trying to outrun fate.
But no one could run forever, not even EZ. Eventually, he got tired. Eventually, he had to find a place to land, even if it was only temporary. He did his best to lay low—a skill that he hadn’t put to good use in far too long. And he was doing well with it, too, until the day that he ran into you.
The first time he hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d noticed you, but no more than he made notice of anyone else. The interaction was over as quickly as it started, and you both went on with your days. You weren’t the first person he’d had a brief run-in since he paused, you wouldn’t end up being the last either. What you were, though, was one of the only people he was running into over and over again.
It got to a point where it felt wrong to not ask for his name. It felt worth it to have something to call him if you were going to keep passing, a little closer than ships in the night. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to give you a false one. He’d kicked himself for it all the way back to the room he was crashing in. Kicked himself for it the day after that, too. He regretted it all the way until he heard you call it out from a few yards away down the sidewalk.
He lifted his head at the sound, expecting to feel fear shoot down his spine but instead, when he saw you standing there, waving with a smile on your face as you continued towards him, he felt the knot in his gut start to loosen for the first time in months. And when you stopped in front of him with a comfortable, “Hey, Ezekiel,” it was the first time in a long time that he could remember the world being covered in more than just red.
Your hand grazed his arm and his world finally got the rest of its colors back. But all he could think as he tried to get your name out in return was how much he was going to miss it all when it was gone again.
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Your Biker in Worn Leather Part 2
Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader
Category: Angst
Word count: 396
Summary: You finally tell EZ who’s responsible for your current appearance.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I have no idea if the Burning Souls are a real MC, it’s just a made up name for this fic. If they are real, this is in no way, shape, or form related to them and for entertainment purposes only.
Part 1
Masterlist
Taglist
Gif is not mine. Credit to the owner
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EZ’s voice rang in your ears. Who did this to you? You knew the man Ezekiel would become once you told him the name. That version of EZ was terrifying to you despite his lividness never being aimed at you but others instead.
“Baby, who was it?” The biker asked once again in a softer tone, concerned filled eyes never leaving your face.
You swallowed hard. “Burning Souls.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look into EZ’s eyes. The fire that resided there was frightening and anyone in their right mind would run for the hills when met with the intense anger that bubbled up in the Mayan.
The Burning Souls were relatively new to the scene, being made up by men discharged from various branches of the armed forces and former police officers. They used all their skills, experience, and resources to their advantage to strike fear into anyone and everyone who crossed their path. What was their motivation? Their goal? Easy. To destroy all MCs in the state of California. To cause chaos, destruction, havoc and if people died in the process, that made it even better.
The Burning Souls had been scoping out the Mayans for a few weeks now. They had watched each Mayan through town and ultimately followed them to the clubhouse’s run down walled gate.
When the Burning Souls first saw you they didn’t think much of you, thinking you were just a club hang around and only there for fun and sex. That opinion of you was proven wrong when they kept seeing you with the Mayans’ Vice President, Ezekiel Reyes. The hugs and kisses exchanged between you and EZ told the story of love. Now the Burning Souls had what they needed — a weakness. A weakness to the VP. It was as close to the top as they were going to get since Obispo Losa showed no interest in love or affection but rather just sex. With no ammo to use on the Mayans’ President, the VP was next in line.
As soon as the MC’s name left your lips, EZ’s jaw tightened, fists clenched, his anger rose and rose with each passing second.
No one harms, much less touches his girl. Most importantly, no one lives to tell the tale.
Ezekiel Reyes was about to start a war ten times worse than the entire world has ever seen.
General Taglist: @kmc1989
EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight
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your-space-brain · 8 months
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The Space Between
Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Reader - One Shot
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Gif does not belong to me.
Moved from @spacedbrainnn
The way he looked at you could’ve melted a nun. His dark eyes were so brooding, with so many thoughts trapped behind them that he just couldn’t voice. His complicated mind held so many trapped notions that wouldn’t forth from his lips. He was given the curse of remembering everything.
You were his object of affection. He looked at you and the corners of his lips turned up, the subtle action lighting up his whole face. You watched him walk to you and raise his hand, to touch your fingertips to his.
You did the same, touching your fingertips to his rough ones, if it wasn’t for the clear barrier between you of glass. Instead, you were met with the smooth coolness, and he pulled his hand back as quickly as it was put up.
You could never be too sure in prison. There were eyes and ears everywhere, and as EZ picked up the black phone, so did you.
“Hey, mi ciela.” The phone receiver was pressed close to his mouth, so he could talk lower, so the others didn’t hear. He didn’t need you used as a weapon against him on the inside. His voice slowly soothed your nervous system.
“Hey, EZ.”
“How are you doing out there?”
“It’s lonely.”
“…I know.”
He didn’t regret taking the heat for the Reaper Run. He didn’t regret the beating that he got from the cops. He regretted leaving his heart behind on the outside.
“Have you been taking the money that I told Angel to give you?”
“Do I ever?”
He exhaled, a faint chuckle leaving his lips. You never did. You were so stubborn. You were about as headstrong as he was, if not more. If the situation was different, you’d argue with him.
“You need to. It’s my money.”
“I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about you.”
“I’m good, miel, I’m good.”
“There’s money on your books?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I got me, querida.”
“I know, but…” There was a moment of silence, your desperate eyes looking at his calmer, more stoic ones. “Are you keeping busy in there?”
“I try. They rip books down the spine so you only get part of them. Kind of hard to read a book when you start and stop right in the middle.”
You frowned, and changed the subject again. “Does it hurt bad?” You asked of the marrings on his skin from the police batons.
“Not too bad. Reminds me to keep moving.”
“Did they—”
“Reyes.”
They didn’t need to say it. Time’s up. 5 minutes, once a week. Your heart jumped in your throat as he stood.
“I love you.” You were desperate. He looked you right in your eyes, and you knew he wouldn’t say it.
‘I love you.’ He mouthed, before nodding as if to confirm it before he turned away. You could never be too careful. Showing emotion just got you hurt in there. 604,800 seconds, you would wait, just to get your 300 seconds with him.
— end —
119 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 11 months
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Promise Me - EZ Reyes x Reader (NSFW)
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Tagging: @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @anime-weeb-4-life @vannabanana1995 @multifandomloversworld @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @lilvampirina @princessghost-24 @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @oureternalbond @sclitvdes @appreciatelove @weiwei0210
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It’s slow the way EZ loves you, gentle and methodical. He chases the shape of your body with large palms and heated fingertips that trail over the scars that ended your career as a dancer. His lips follow suit, brushing over the indented skin as he parts your thighs. There isn’t a part of you he doesn’t find beautiful, every mark tells a story, every blemish another chapter. He learns to read them as if they’re his favourite novel, memorising your hitched breathing and needy whimpers.
You’re a work of art, the finest poetry and the sweetest fucking thing he’s ever feasted on.
When he enters you, he feels fucking alive for the first time in almost a decade. His senses are ablaze, his synapses erupting with a thousand tiny sparks as he draws you closer. His hands are everywhere, touching, stroking, kneading, anything to keep the skin to skin contact as he makes love to you in freshly laundered sheets. He kisses you like the world is about to end, as if his life depends on it and he needs the sensation of you just to survive. He swallows down your moans and drinks in your pleasure, chasing that ecstasy until he has you on the cusp.
Desperate, wanton, for him, only for him, you tell him.
It drives him over the edge, he spills his release into you, looking into your eyes as you fall with him. It’s like tumbling over a cliff face, reckless and exhilarating all at the same time. In the moment he clutches you close, his forehead coming to rest upon yours as he tries to catch his breath. He’s overwhelmed and overwrought, there’s an ache in his chest because he knows there’s no going back after tonight. He’s so fucking in love with you, it hurts.
“Hey, hey.” You whisper against the corner of his mouth. “I’m right here with you, ok?”
He can’t speak, can’t bring himself to voice the emotions that are resonating through him. He looks at you helplessly and he knows that you see it, knows that you understand that he’s struggling, that it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
“Hey, I love you EZ.” You tell him earnestly. “That’s not going to go away anytime soon.”
“Promise me.” He murmurs against your lips, his thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek. “Promise me that you mean it when you say it.”
“I mean it darling boy,” You say, your lips ghosting over the base of his palm. “I love you Ezekiel Reyes.”
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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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222 notes · View notes
bumblesimagines · 18 days
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Ez Reyes
can i buy you a drink? for old times' sake?
you were never there for me.
i don't love you anymore.
can i buy you a drink? for old times' sake?
you were never there for me.
i don't love you anymore.
Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, Gender Neutral!Reader
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"You better not forget about us, Beverly Hills." You felt Bishop clap his hand over your shoulder, a big friendly grin stretched out across his face. You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn't help the giddy smile from spreading across your face, especially with all the supportive Mayans you viewed as uncles and brothers looking just as thrilled as your own father. 
"Well, I have to finish packing, but I'll drop by later." You told them, feeling Bishop playfully shake your shoulder before you stepped toward Riz. Your father pecked the top of your head and pinched your cheek, snickering to himself when you swatted at his wrist with a huff and an eye roll. 
"Don't stay out too late with your friends, 'ight?" Riz called as you headed toward the door, chuckles spreading throughout the bar when you shot him a glare over your shoulder. No matter how old you got, he still took it upon himself to embarrass you in front of others every chance he got. 
Opening the door and throwing one last wave over your shoulder, you stepped out of the clubhouse and headed down the rickety steps. You reached into the pocket of your jacket, feeling around for your keys but your attention turned away from your parked car when the gate slid open and two motorcycles rolled in. Ah, fuck. You bit the inside of your cheek and pulled the keys free from your pocket but just as you pressed down to unlock the car, you heard it:
"Aye, (Y/N)!" 
"Fuck," You sighed and turned around, planting a polite smile on your face while you waited for Angel and Ezekiel to finish taking off their helmets. Angel moved first and the only thing you saw before he tugged you into a tight embrace was his big dorky grin. You could smell the cigarette smoke reeking off him and grunted, hoping the smell wouldn't cling to your clothes. "Hey, Angel."
"Hey yourself, Beverly Hills." Angel laughed as he pulled away.
"I'm not even going to Beverly Hills." You groaned. "The new place isn't anywhere near there!"
"But with that fancy new job, you'll live there someday, right? You better tell the pretty girls about the attractive biker down in Santo Padre." Angel said, pushing his sunglasses up to rest atop his slicked-back hair. "Make sure to tell 'em he's funny and hot and-"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll tell them all about Coco." You grinned when he clicked his tongue and lightly pushed your shoulder with his fist, his eyes rolling dramatically. He glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother and glanced back at you, wiggling his brows and smirking before he spun on his heels and headed into the clubhouse. 
"Hey." Ezekiel greeted gently, tugging his gloves off his hands and offering a sweet smile. You remembered a time when just his smile would make you weak at the knees and giggle like a lovesick idiot. But it only filled you with bitterness looking at it now. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he glanced toward your car. "Leaving so soon?"
"I gotta finish packing." You answered.
"Ah, right, you got a new job away from here, right? I'm happy for you. It's hard leaving this place, take it from me." Ezekiel sighed heavily, stuffing his gloves into the pocket of his jeans and curling his fingers around the front of his kutte. "Listen, (Y/N)... can I buy you a drink? For old times' sake? I always miss you every time you visit. Thought it'd be nice to catch up with you."
You inhaled deeply, eyes flickering toward the clubhouse when the Mayans inside cracked up with laughter at some unheard joke or story. It'd been nearly two years since you'd last seen Ezekiel Reyes face to face and spoken with him. Two long years since you'd stood in his trailer with tears in your eyes while he kept his head bowed, never uttering a single word as you tore into him. You'd broken up with him when he couldn't promise to keep his distance from Emily Galindo, a married woman bound to be his demise. He'd called and called but you ignored him until Riz stepped in and forced him to back off.
"No, thanks, Ezekiel. I have nothing to say to you if I'm honest. Everything I did want to say was said years ago. I hope you're doing well but you were never there for me when we were dating so why would I need you as a friend? You showed me how conditional your loyalty was." You told him and turned away from him, heading toward your car and opening the door. Ezekiel followed because being stubborn ran in the Reyes family, and reached out to cup your elbow.
"I know, I'm sorry. I fucked up. I... I have no excuses, (Y/N). I miss you. I miss us. I miss what we have and what we could've had-"
"I don't love you anymore." You told him bluntly, watching his face crumble in a matter of seconds. He released your elbow and stepped back, his gaze dropping onto the ground and lips pressing tightly together. "That love faded a long time ago, Ezekiel. It's best if you forget about us... 'cause it's never happening again."
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Jealously Makes Lovers
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Ez Reyes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: reader is bishop’s daughter, some swearing, alcohol and the consumption of, smoking, reader and Angel are long time besties, a small mention of death and murder, use of a misogynistic term, spoilers for bishop’s storyline in S3, being tipsy, a little makeout scene, a little bit of cheesy flirting, little bit of tension between ez and bishop, a single punch, blood and injury, a few kisses. 
Word Count: 5k 
Author’s Note: did this stem from a middle of the night fantasy ? yes it did and what :) // this one’s for you babe @halsteadssneakylink​ just cause you said I make him attractive to you <3
----
Santo Padre was home.
As much as you hated to admit it, the place grew on you and you always wound up back there. You travelled for work and you tended to drift away from your roots but home was home.
25 years old and you’re moving back in with your father. To him, you were still the 12 year old kid that moved in with him all those years ago. Surely you’ve grown but things never seemed to change in Santo Padre.
The hot sun beat down against your skin and the warmth made you a little sticky. Your feet dragged along the sandy path to the clubhouse and you walked through the gate to be greeted by Coco who slings an arm over your shoulder.
“Y/n! When’d you get back, babe? Bish didn’t say nothing.” He mumbles, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. “Yeah, probably to keep me from your crazy ass.” you tease, making him laugh as you two walk up the steps to the door.
Coco opens the door for you, letting you step in away from the heat. You look around, nothing’s changed in the 3 years you’ve been gone.
“Mija!” your dad walks over, arms open for a hug which you’re pulled into. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day at home.” he asks, walking you over to the bar.
You take a seat on the stool, shrugging. “Felt like going for a walk.”
“You walked from the house? That's a 40 minute walk.” he slides a coke over the counter to you.
You shrug once more, “I felt like walking. Also,” you slide the coke back over to him, “I'm not 12 anymore.” You reach over the counter, grabbing a beer from the lower countertop. You pop the bottle open on the edge of the bar top before taking a sip.
Bishop stares at you, his head tilts slightly before questioning you; “where’d you  learn how to do that?”
You laugh, nodding towards Hank who was sitting on the couch. “Taught me since I was like 16, dad.” Your father rolls his eyes, taking the beer from you and taking a swing before handing it back to you.
Bishop comes around the bar, his arm wrapping around you, giving you a good squeeze. “Angel’s in the shop. He’ll probably want to see you; I know you two were..” he trails off, not wanting to admit what he thought was happening between you and the oldest Reyes brother.
“We what ? Were screwing ?” you say deadpan, looking at your father. He visibly cringes, pushing you off the stool lightly.
“Get out of here, I have shit to do. Fucking weirdo.” he groans, making you laugh.
“Love you!” you giggled, stepping out the door. You stopped by the rows of bikes, Coco was sitting with Gilly who was working on his bike.
“When’d you get home, missy?” Gilly asks, looking up at you from his spot beside his bike.
“Why was my homecoming such a secret ? Y’all have let club secrets spill faster than this.” You roll your eyes, walking off towards the shop.
Angel had his back turned to you and was leaning into the car, trying to fix something. He had on one of those green button ups that they wore when they were working on the cars. You decide to sneak up on him, you weren't even sure if it would work but you’d try.
You quietly walk over to the man, lifting his shirt gently and snaking a hand under it. He froze when he felt the hand, instantly turning to see who it was. A smile appears on his face when he sees you.
“Hey mama,” he picks you up, hugging you tightly. You clung to the man, smiling and hugging him back. He puts you down after a moment, your arms still wrapped around him. “When’d you get home?”
“God, you’re like the millionth person to ask me that shit. I got home a few days ago. I've been trying to readjust to living with my dad, which we both know is the biggest pain in the ass.”
Angel laughed, slinging his arm over your shoulder. You lean into his side, you missed him; even though the relationship aspect didn’t work out for you two, you still remained really good friends. The shop looked the same, nothing changed in Santo Padre; that’s what you loved about it.
Home was always home.  
The two of you walked into the office area and Chucky was sitting at the desk. “Hi y/n nice to see you, how are you?” Chucky asks, moving a chair beside the desk for you to take a seat.
You set the beer on the counter, taking a seat. “I’m good Chuck, how you been? Hopefully the boys haven’t been roughing you up.”
“Nothing I could not handle.” he nods, turning his attention back to whatever he was doing on the computer in front of him.
Angel had disappeared in the few moments you were talking to Chucky. You decide to stay there seeing that the AC was running and you were comfortable in your chair.
There's a couple that walk in, a man with his arm around an obnoxiously loud blonde.  He’s telling her to calm down when you recognize the voice, looking over which you regret the moment you do. His eyes meet yours and his brows pull together, smiling at you.
Nowhere to run now.
“Y/n! I didn’t know you were back,” the man smiles, your evil ex boyfriend, Mark. Well, not evil but you hated his guts with a passion.
He cheated on you while you were in college, simply because you were ‘too busy’ for him when it really was this simple; if you were alive and had a vagina, he’d fuck you.
“Yup.” you mumble dryly, taking a sip of your beer.
“How’s your dad been?” he asks, continuing the conversation you desperately wanted to get away from.
“Probably plotting your demise.” you hum and he laughs.
You were serious though; Bishop had said on multiple occasions that if he ever finds the man that cheated on his little girl, he'd kill him, with his bare hands.  
The woman tucked under his arm turns to Chucky, “is my car ready?” she asks him and he tells her he’s not sure.
“God, do you fucking know anything?” she grumbles under her breath and you get off your chair.
“Don’t fucking talk to him like that.” you say, a little harsher than necessary.
The blonde steps away from your ex, towards you. She’s in your face at this point, “or what, bitch?”
“I’ll kill you, skank.”
You’re about to hit her but you feel a pair of arms wrap around your torso, lifting you off the ground. You figured it was Angel and the person carried you out of the office but not before you could shout some unpleasant words her way. The man was still carrying you, now going through the garage and you felt your heart nearly stop when you see Angel leant over into a car.
If he was there, who the fuck was carrying you?
You smacked the person’s hand lightly, they seemed to get the hint and put you down. You turn, meeting the man who was carrying you.
He was staring back at you, his tan skin glistening under the heat of the sun. He smiled at you and you took a moment to admire him. Beautiful brown eyes, a buzzcut that he somehow pulled off even though you found it repulsive on anyone else, a set of strong shoulders and arms to match and you almost swoon when he flashed you a smile - though you blame the swooning on the heat and dehydration.
The patch on his kutte says prospect; this was trouble waiting to happen.
“Who are you?” he beats you to the question.
“Could ask you the same thing, you just picked up and carried me out, you could be a kidnapper.”
“You’re a grown woman, who would kidnap you?” The man holds back a laugh.
You shrug, “it happens!”
“Will you fuckers shut up?” Angel grumbles, wiping his hands on a rag. “Mama, this is Ez, my annoying ass, less handsome brother. Ez, this is y/n, Bishop’s kid.” Angel slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side.
Ez smiles, nodding at you. “Yeah, well, Y/n almost fought someone in the office.”
Angel looks down at you, a questioning look on his face. “It was Mark and his girl of the week.” You tell him and he nods, “that’s her car, want me to fuck it up?” he offers and you eagerly nod. “Would you?” you look up at your friend, wrapping your arms around his torso.
“You two are fucked in the head.” Ez scoffs at the two of you, making you both laugh. Angel untangles himself from you, letting you go. “Go with Ez, and stay out of trouble.”
“Trouble’s my middle name, baby!” you shout at Angel, jogging to catch up with Ez.
“Angel dumped me on you which was stupid cause I’m not a kid.”
“I’m sure Bish doesn’t think that.” Ez jokes, sitting on the steps of the clubhouse. “Yeah - he gave me a coke instead of a beer today.” you tell Ez, sitting beside him.
He laughs, staring off into the distance before speaking. “I knew Bish had a kid but I didn’t know y’all were close.”
“Yeah, I moved back a few days ago.”
“Where were you before that?” he looks over at you, “if you don't mind my asking.”
“New York, Georgia and then Mexico. After that, I figured it was time to come home.”
“You travel for work?” “Yeah, I'm a nurse.” you hum, picking at your nail polish.
“Can I ask you another question ?” Ez asks you. You nod, “what’s it like having Bishop as a dad? I can’t even wrap my head around that concept.” he laughs and the sound of his laughter makes you smile.
“He was always good to me. I moved in with him when I was.. 12 maybe? It was just after Aidan passed because my mother thought it would be good for him to be with me or some shit like that but she really just wanted to party and not take responsibility for me.” you tell him, EZ nods.
“I’m sorry.” “Don’t be, she was a crappy mom anyways. Dad treats me ten times better than she ever could.”
You take a breath, exhaling before continuing. “Granted he wasn't around much but at least, I had a place to sleep, clothes and food to eat so I didn’t have anything to complain about. It took a long time for us to connect - I had moved away with my mom when I was 5 so we didn’t really know each other, you know?”
“But, you two are okay now?”
“Yeah, he's my best friend; other than your brother.” You say.
“You know, I remember when he was a prospect.” you chuckle to yourself at the memory. “I didn’t know what it meant to be a prospect back then; dad kept me away from the outlaw shit but I knew it had to be bad considering all the bruises and blood they’d would come back with”
“So you basically grew up in this shithole?” He looks back at the house. You smile, nodding. “Don’t knock it, the bond y’all have is for life. I grew up with them; dad, Angel, Coca and Gilly, Hank, Riz - all of ‘em. They’re my family whether I like it or not.” you tell him.
Ez nods in agreement. “I know - so they’re what made you want to get into nursing huh?”
“All the blood and bruises were practice before theory.” you smiled. “I spent most of my weekends stitching up wounds and changing bandages; but I wouldn’t change it for the world. Had it not been for dad and the guys, I wouldn’t be where I am today. They really pushed me to be the best I could be, especially dad and Angel.”
“Angel?” Ez questions, looking at you with confusion. “I can’t imagine Angel pushing anyone to do anything.” he jokes.
“Angel would spend hours on that same worn out couch in there, keeping me company while I studied. He’d even quizzed me.” you give Ez a ‘I'm serious’ look.
“Okay but what I don't get is that if they all wanted you to do so well, why not talk about it? You’re clearly incredibly talented.”
The praise brings a red hue to your cheeks, one you’re hoping you can pass off as the heat. “That’s exactly it. If they brag, well, you know how these things go - family is your biggest strength but the greatest downfall in the hands of the wrong people.”
“Who knew Bish could have such a smart kid?” he looks at you in amazement and you shake your head, laughing. “Let him hear you say that shit.”
“Let me hear what ?” your father asks, stepping out of the clubhouse. You and Ez look back at the man and you glance at Ez, he shrugs. “Nothing Bish.”
Bishop hums, looking between the two of you. “I’m headed out but I can give you a ride home, unless you're wearing that tonight ?” your father looks towards you, eyeing your outfit; you had on an old t-shirt that belongs to him and a pair of shorts.
“Obviously not.” you roll your eyes, getting up and brushing the sand off the back of your shorts. “C’mon, I’m leaving.” He tells you, stepping between you and Ez, walking towards his motorcycle.
“Can I drive?!” you shout to your father, running down the stairs and over to him. Your father shook his head, getting on and nodding for you to sit behind him.
You pouted at the man, hoping he’d give in and let you drive but he didn’t budge.
“You suck.” you grumble, getting on behind him. The man laughs, patting your hand when you wrap your arms around him.
Ez watched the exchange happen, smiling to himself, wondering if someday he’d have the same thing happen to him with his daughter.
He could only hope that he’d have that.
----
It was a bit past one in the morning when you decided to call it a night. The clubhouse is full of life and party, people in every corner having loud conversations and honestly, your head was starting to spin.
It was your first party home in a long time and you may have let loose a little more than intended.
Setting the beer bottle on the floor, you stand and stay in one spot for a minute, gaining your balance back. You manage to navigate your way through the crowd and out into the yard which was full of people too.
You stop by the stairs, slowly making your way down as you look around for your dad. You were in no condition to drive and hopefully he’d be able to take you home or Angel could take you.
Either way, you need to go home before the yard starts to spin too.
Bishop was sitting on the chair by the bikes, Ez and Angel with him as well as Hank. You manage to walk over without falling flat on your face and you squeeze in between your dad and Hank.
Your father looks in your direction; you were slouching between the two men, your head on his shoulder and your eyes droopy. Not to mention the red hue on your cheeks. “You okay mija?”
“I think I need to go home and get some sleep. Can you take me, papi?”
You used to call him papi when you were a kid and now that you’ve grown up, it was dad; but you’ll always be his little girl so whenever he hears that word, his heart melts.
“I would but I got a meeting with the kings, baby.” he kisses your forehead as you lean into his side.
He holds you close for a moment, moments like these were few and far in between.
Bishop looked around for a second; he needed Hank there and Angel, plus Angel was too drunk to drive anyways.
That left Ez.
“Ez, take her home.” He’s already standing and walking over to help you up. Bishop presses a kiss to your forehead before letting Ez help you up.
“Take care of her or I’ll kill you.” He threatens the prospect, making you laugh. You shake your head, linking arms with him, “he’s joking.”  
“I’m not joking.” He calls out to you two and you wave him off, getting onto the motorcycle. Ez makes sure you've got a helmet on before getting on and pulling out.
The drive home felt like it breezed by, mostly because your cheek was pressed to Ez’s back and your eyes were closed for all of it. When it comes to a stop, he gets off first and turns to you.
You were already swinging your legs off, sitting on the edge of the seat with Ez standing in front of you, unbuckling the helmet. He pulls it off and sets it to the side only to see that your hair has frizzed up in the few minutes. He gently brushed a hand over your hair, smoothing the parts that were sticking up. Your hands were on his kutte, holding onto it as you studied his face in the yellow streetlight.
“How you feeling ?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to look at you.  
“Better.” you smile, the smile instantly fading when you see the porch light of the house across the street turn on.
Ez follows your gaze, noticing the obvious displeasure on your face. He looked over at the house, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. Just a regular house with your ex boyfriend, Mark coming out of the front door.
“Ah.” He hums, turning back to look at you. “Does he do that often?”
“No clue, he’s a fucking weirdo.” you grumble, looking back at Ez.
There's a glint of mischief in the man’s eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans into you. His hands snake around your waist, stepping a little closer to you.
“Wanna make him jealous ?” Ez asks, his lips brushing against your ear and your heart skips a beat.
You weren't thinking when you nodded, your hands resting against his chest when he closed the gap between the two of you. Ez’s lips were soft against yours, his warm hands resting just under the hem of your skirt now.
You can’t help but pull him closer so that he's standing between your legs. He grabs your leg, hitching it to hook on his hip as his hand rubs along your thigh. It was as if you lost yourself in the kiss but you felt his lips move from yours and down to your jaw.
The reason for the kiss had completely slipped your mind.
Your body moves against his, wanting more than he's able to give you at that moment. EZ pushes your hair away from your neck, his hand coming to rest on the side of it. You lean into his touch, giving him space to kiss along the newly exposed skin.
His hand on your back pulls you forward and your own hand hits somewhere on the bike, holding yourself up and against him.
The sudden flash of light causing both of you to pull away, Ez lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. The thought of Bishop catching the two of you making out when he was just supposed to drop you off definitely instilled fear somewhere in Ez’s mind.
“You hit the lights.” he chuckles, his arm around you, holding you close as he reaches around you to turn it off. You hum, smiling as you look over his shoulder.
Mark was still sitting on his porch, his focus directly on you and Ez.
Ez turns his attention back to you and you grab the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. It only lasts for a few seconds but the passion coming from it was enough to tell Mark to fuck off.
The door slams on the other side of the street and you two pull away from each other, giggling like teenagers.
“Think that did it?” Ez asks, his forehead resting on yours.
You nod, smiling at him. Your hand cups his cheek, thumb caressing it softly. “Wanna come in?” you ask quietly, as if you were gonna summon your father if you said it louder.
“I don’t know if I should-” “’Cause of this?” your finger drags along the patch sewn into his kutte.
EZ watches as you run your finger along the patch, moving up to his shoulder, along his neck and finally resting under his chin. You pull him to look you in the eyes.
“Come in.”
Your hand is in his, walking towards the front door. He wasn’t resisting even though his brain was screaming at him in big red letters to leave. Ez follows you into the house, locking the door behind the two of you.
He really should leave but he follows you all the way to your bedroom before he finally comes to a halt.
You look back at the man standing in the doorway. “What?” you ask, already searching for something to change into.
“He’ll be home soon.”
You stop and turn to face Ez. “He’s spending the night at the club. He’s got business with the kings.”
Reaching for the hem of your shirt, “are you staying?”
You grab it and pull it over your head before tossing it to the man. “Or going?”
He steps into the room, dropping the shirt on the floor and shutting the door. “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, “a hundred percent.”
Ez smiles, walking over and picking you up. “What are you doing?” you laugh, settling yourself on his lap when he sits on your bed.
“You’re so beautiful,” he hums, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
There’s nothing to blame the blush that’s creeping up your cheek on. So instead, you pay him a complaint. “Says Mr. Handsome.” you tease, making him laugh.
Ez lays back on your bed and you get off, settling beside him, your leg tossed over his lap and your arm draped over his torso. His arm was around you and two of his fingers trailed along your shoulder, tracing little patterns into your skin. You look up at the man, the moonlight from the window shining into the room.
“Ez?” and he hums, now looking at you. You smile, “no, what does Ez stand for? I’m sure that’s not what’s on your birth certificate.”
“Ezekiel.”
“Ezekiel.” You repeat, smiling. Ez smiles too, the sound of his name falling from your lips was now his favourite sound; he could listen to you say it forever.
His arm tightens around you, holding you a little closer. “Weren't you supposed to be sleeping already ?”
“I would have been but this handsome guy decided to makeout with me on his bike soooo” you hum, looking up at him. Your words make him blush, rolling his eyes playfully.
“I’ll be here when you wake up, get some sleep.” he rubs along your side softly.
“If you chicken out when you hear dad pull in, the window’s the fastest way out.” you tell him, shutting your eyes but you can feel his questioning stare. “Just because I wasn't allowed around club stuff doesn’t mean I didn’t have a life, Ezekiel.”
Ez chuckles, kissing your forehead. “Sleep well.”
“You too.”
----
The sun is peeking through the curtains and you groan. Your head is pounding and the smell of whatever the neighbours were cooking was making you want to puke.
When you roll over, you see that your bedroom window is open which probably means Ez opened it but you also see that your bed is empty.
Ez’s shoes are gone and so is he or so you thought until you hear shouting from the kitchen. Your dad’s voice echoed through the house, making you want to pull a pillow over your head and go back to sleep.
It was barely half past ten, who the hell could he be talking to already ?
“Nothing happened, how many times do I need to say that?” you hear Ez’s voice, making you instantly sit up.
You grab the closet shirt you can find and pull it on as you run down the hallway to the kitchen. There's a loud smack just as you reach the kitchen; Ez stumbles back, his hand over his nose with a painful expression on his face and your dad‘s expression mirrors his but his hand is in a fist.
“Dad! What the hell!” You shout, walking over to Ez.
You gently move his hand from his nose, sitting him on the chair at the table. You crouch down to check if his nose was broken - it wasn't but it was bleeding. Standing again, you shift Ez to sit forward, tilting his head down slightly so the blood would drip out.
Next, you walk over to your father who already has a cold towel on his knuckles. He winces, pulling the cigarette from his lips as you feel his hand. “Nothing’s broken.” you tell him, wrapping the towel back around it.
He takes a pull from the cigarette, “coulda told you that.” He says which makes you roll your eyes.
Making your way back to Ez, you lift his chin to check his nose once more. You hand him a few tissues before bending down to wipe the blood off the floor. “Why’d you hit him? He didn’t do anything.” the question directed to your father.
“Didn’t do anything ? He was in bed with you, neither of you had a shirt on!”
You glance up at Ez whose face was a mix of mortified and pain, you bite back a laugh. “I wasn’t naked, you’re so dramatic, papi. It’s not like we slept together - well we did, but only in the same bed. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened ?” your father asks, and you turn to look at him, nodding. “Nothing happened, I promise.”
“Fine,” he says, “if you say so.”
Ez’s eyes widen, looking at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t he-” Shh, don’t even bother.” you take the tissue from him, gently wiping away the left over blood.
You toss it in the trash and wash your hands, “how about breakfast?” you ask the men, both of them saying they need to get to the clubhouse.
“Head out without me.” Bishop tells Ez, walking out of the kitchen and down the hallway.
“I’ll walk you out.” you stretch your hand out, Ez cautiously grabbing it as you two walk out of the house together. You two walk over to his motorcycle that’s parked on the street. You’re sitting on the edge of the seat, Ez standing between your legs, mirroring your position from last night.
His fingertips barely brush against your thigh. “I should probably get going.” He whispers, eyes meeting yours.
You hum, “probably.” Your hand reaches for his, pulling him closer to you.
Ez’s hand moves, resting against your torso. “Can your dad see us?” he glances at the window, you look over your shoulder and shake your head.
“No. C’mere.” You reach for his kutte, pulling him towards you and closing the gap. Your lips on his and he leans into you, his hands on your lower back. “I really should go.” He mumbles against your lips, between kisses.
“Mhm hm.” your lips still on his, his hands reaching down to give your ass squeeze which makes you laugh, pulling away from the kiss. “Smooth, Ez, real smooth.”
“I try,” he flashes you a smile and his hands pull you away from the bike, getting on. You watch as he puts on his helmet, snickering to yourself. “What ?” he asks, smiling at you as he puts on his sunglasses.
“You look like a dork.” you say through giggles, hunched over in laughter. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re adorable but the glasses and the helmet; I can’t help it.” you laughed, Ez rolled his eyes and grabbed your waist, pulling you to his side.
“Shut up, like you didn’t just get busted with a boy in your room this morning.”
“Need I remind you that you were the boy, Ezekiel.”
The use of his name makes him smile. “Say it again.” he whispers, kissing along your jaw.
“Say what- ah.” you rest a hand on his cheek. “Have a good day, Ezekiel.” you smile, leaning in to give him one last kiss before stepping back onto the curb.
You watch him pull off and head down the street and as soon as he does, your father walks out. “I don't know what time I'll be home.” he calls out to you, causing you to turn and walk towards him.
“That's okay, gonna unpack and stuff today.” You meet him on the front porch. “Come by the house if you need anything, or call. Okay ?” he pulls you in for a hug.
“I will, be safe.” you tell him, smiling.
Your father’s hand is still holding your arm, “by the way, I did see that.” he says, kissing your forehead before walking down the steps to the driveway.
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