#ez x gaby | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cloveroctobers · 2 years

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outside / EZ REYES x Black! Reader || Summer Prompts !

A/N: I always said gaby and Ez look like siblings…freud would love my ass for saying that. Here’s me having a poke at that here in my final summer prompts. It’s nothing too serious just something to wrap up the remaining summer writing season BUT I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t take this piece someplace else right? 😉

WARNINGS: turned out much lengthy than intended for no reason! Sorry about that! + conflicting relationships? And before y’all ask there will most likely not be a part two lol. Just call me part i. Ess from now on 🤭

Plot/prompt: summer weddings + summer vacation

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some people go crazy over weddings.

you happened to fall into the trope of wanting a fairytale wedding. You wanted a marquise cut wedding ring—preferably in the shade of London blue Topaz with a pear engagement ring to match it. You didn’t think too hard on the whole proposal, you just hoped the person you wanted to ask you would execute it well. Thinking about the proposal made you nervous but thinking about the ceremony? Provided you with all the serotonin that you needed.

It was insane to your family that you didn’t fall into the wedding planning field since weddings were on your mind back when you had knockers in your pigtails. It was a hobby to watch all the shows and attend every wedding you were invited to. You had moodboards stored away in your closet and attic about the major event that was tweaked at every age. Commitment was never the issue on your end out of the handful you dated..they just never ended up being the right one or you scared them off with the intent of forever.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Warm muscular arms wrapped around your body, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Humming you briefly caressed EZ’s, your boyfriend of one year, forearm. “Yes. I found the bracelet at the bottom of the suitcase, it must have slipped out of the pouch I had it in.”

“Here let me help you with that.” Ez unlocked his arms from around you, taking the accessory from your grasp to place around your wrist.

You watched the man before you, how he touched you so delicately and with care. His skin stayed on dewy, he trimmed down his balbo beard at your request (the friction was causing a serious rash—on your part) and it glistened with sandalwood oil that would surely shine like diamonds once you stepped out into the Mexican heat.

“You see something that you like?” Ez teased you, his honey eyes flicking up to meet yours once he was done.

You smiled as you responded turning to close your suitcase, “I see plenty, Mr. Reyes.”

“Oh me too, love.” Ez was behind you again, his hands reaching out to caress your backside before giving it a nice slap, “this dress…I don’t think I want you outside in it.”

Smirking to yourself you finished zipping the suitcase and spun to face the olive-skinned man who went back to rubbing on your stinging booty, “that’s just too damn bad, man. We got here yesterday afternoon and been in all this time up in each other’s faces, everybody out that door? about to see these legs and hips and body.”

Ez chuckled at you, playfully rolling his eyes as you had your arms around his neck, one hand now running your fingernails against his scalp.

“Fine. I guess we do have some place to be.”

You scoffed with a quirk of your brow, “now you want to change your tone when we’re actually here? It’s your cousin’s pre-wedding dinner party.”

“I know.” Ez grumbled, “I agreed to come to the wedding not the pre-events. Pop was in my ear about it being disrespectful if we didn’t go but it’s not like I give a shit what he’s got to say—

“Ezekiel!” You gripped his face, before pointing your finger at him, “we said best behavior on this trip.”

You got along quite well with Felipe. He was respectful, quiet, yet observant which made it hard for you to tell if he liked you enough to date his son in the beginning. You understood that Ez and Felipe’s relationship took a huge turn revolving around his mother’s death and his father’s past. Of course you could never tell EZ how he should feel since you were not in his position but you knew Felipe did the best that he could taking care of his boys. He tried but ultimately you knew Ez wasn’t trying to hear that anymore. It ran much deeper than you knew and you didn’t pry because once Ez went dark? He buried himself in it for awhile; you noticed how the club was changing him and you weren’t sure it was for the better.

Nonetheless this summer vacation was to leave all the stress of the club bullshit behind you…for now.

“I am, I’m just saying I don’t see him giving Angel shit for not being here.”

“Angel has a baby to cater to—

“So you’re saying I should get you—

“No!” Your eyes went wide as Ez’s began to crinkle, laughing at you, joking.

You were far from thinking about children, IUD in place, you wanted to be more financially stable before that could ever happen and if your job finally promoted you and you were married for at least two years? Then that would be the goal. Everything was plotted for you, you liked to stick to a routine and schedule. If you could help it? That’s the way it would go. Sorry.

“We’re not here for any drama just the vibrant city of Mérida, okay?” You pecked his lips.

“…okay.” Ez grumbled.

You fixed the collar of his linen beige top, getting a whiff of Egyptian musk that radiated off his skin before you reached for the space on both corners of his lips. Lifting them you said, “fix your face.”

Then you moved your hands to slap his ass in return making him grin, “yes ma’am.”

He gripped your hand, intertwining your fingers as you led him out of the room.

•

The restaurant was just as vibrant yet homey as the buildings even with the sun beginning to set. When you and EZ arrived most of the guests were there currently waiting on Gaby and her groom to be. You already knew a few faces which consisted of Felipe, Coco, his girlfriend Hope, and Letty.

“Finally! I thought you two wouldn’t get here until after Gaby and her dude showed up.” Letty announced, kissing the side of your cheek as you embraced.

Coco was all grins as he cradled a cigarette, “shut it leticia, this is part of their baecation so you know nothing is off limits.” He winked at you as Ez laughed, bringing him into his chest by his palm.

Letty scrunched up her nose but didn’t say anything else as she sipped at her Perrier can.

You rolled your eyes, fanning your hand at Coco before you turned to Hope, smiling at her in greeting, “how are you?”

“Pretty good!” She called over the music as you hugged briefly, “it’s nice to get away from everything.”

“Oh absolutely! Santo Padre who?” You waved to the bar tender ordering a drink before you turned back to the two, “how long are you guys staying?”

“We leave the day after tomorrow.” Letty answered in annoyance, “Coco’s gotta get back to the club! I might just get lost here instead and find me a better guy.”

“Uh oh.” You trailed letty’s eyes to see a slim boy with freshly tanned skin, dark gelled back hair, chiseled jaw, sporting heavy jewelry on his neck and fingers along with his eyes set on Letty too, “who’s that?”

“Ryan.” Hope answered, “Felipe told us he’s on the groom’s side. He’s a fighter, a boxer I think he said. Felipe’s got the scoop on everyone here, including Gaby’s fiancé’s side.”

You weren’t surprised.

“Did you talk to this Ryan guy yet?”

“What?” Letty blinked at you, “why would I do that?”

“You caught each other’s eye and you have the perfect opening as one of gaby’s friends…” you stated the obvious as you thanked the bartender for the red cup.

Letty scoffed, “if he wants to talk to me, he knows what I have on. I’m tired of chasing these assholes.”

Just as she said that the three heard his laughter from across the courtyard where he sat, talking to another girl that could possibly be Felipe’s family or not. She had her hand on his shoulder as she spoke and you didn’t miss how he occasionally kept glancing over in Letty’s area.

You shook your head as you took a sip of your drink. This all felt too familiar. Not bothering to dwell on it much longer, Ez’s hand touched your backless dress stealing you away to introduce you to a few cousins, aunts, and uncles who you communicated with most of them in their native tongue; which they seemed to appreciate. You met Gaby’s mother and little brother, her two best friends from hometown in Mexico, and a few of her best co-workers in her residency back in Santo padre.

“What’s going on, everybody!?” A voice boomed over the music, making all heads turn to the couple.

Your eyes zeroed in on Gaby who always kept a bright smile on her face. Her lips were painted plum which contrasted against her gleaming teeth, her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she wore a flowy cream dotted ruffle midi dress with a slit going down her chest. She looked gorgeous and extremely happier than usual.

You met Gaby back home through coco and Letty and she told you all about her life. She always suggested going out to grab a bite to eat but time always got the best of the both of you. She only had her mother and brother here until she learned that Felipe was her family too. It was also mind-blowing to know that her and Ez were also a thing way back when…until they learned they were related. So it was a little odd to try and be friends with her, it wasn’t necessarily intentional it was just the way it played out.

How could you have something against a woman you barely knew? Ez didn’t talk much about their few months together but he did tell you that when he fell, he fell hard. It wasn’t like him to not get attached to someone and he admitted he only had one (shockingly) emotionless fling after Gaby before you came along.

“Hi everyone, thank you for coming!” Gaby waved at all the cheering faces.

It wasn’t until your eyes moved to her fiancé did you find yourself choking a bit. Realizing that you had a cup in your hand, you bought the alcohol to your lips hoping to soothe your almost full-on choking fit.

“You okay?” Ez said into your ear.

Your eyes burned into the man that had a protective arm across Gaby’s shoulder’s. He was too busy laughing with one of his friend’s who repeatedly announced that he was his best man.

Swallowing you whispered, “that’s my ex.”

Ez felt his brows furrow as he followed your stare settling on the curly long haired man that stood next to Gaby. He had stubble going on his angular face—which was different than what you were used to, his nose pointed from the side and crinkled as he laughed at something his best friend said. He was taller than Gaby even in her wedges but you were sure her head easily tucked underneath his chin when they embraced. He was dressed in a navy blue suit jacket with a open white undershirt underneath and sported some blue jeans with one rip in the knee.

Ez crossed his arms, “which one?”

“The one I dated for four years back in Ohio.”

“…shit.” Ez huffed knowing of this story just like you knew his story with Emily.

If you were able to have a positive outlook of your first love and heartbreak then you are one of the lucky ones.

“Well—

You started just as Ez said, “I can break his fucking nose if you want?”

Laughing you gripped Ez’s bicep, “neither of us are about to act up tonight, we don’t want to ruin this for Gaby. And i don’t think getting arrested down here is the smartest move.”

“yeah I agree…” Ez watched as Gaby and her fiancé, your ex, moved together in sync as they began chatting with the guests, “but i would certainly enjoy knocking him out of those thousand dollar shoes and that tight ass jacket.”

You snorted out a laugh as you leaned into EZ who easily unfolded his arms to wrap around your body, caressing the skin of your back once more and putting his back to the couple.

“We outside.” You sung making EZ nod his head mockingly before placing a kiss on your cheek.

You breathed in Ez’s scent with the closing of your eyes before you opened them again to see Paul’s eyes set on you in shock. It was brief but you caught it as he lifted his chin and turned his gaze elsewhere.

It was incredible, the act of avoidance. It wasn’t you doing the avoiding but you weren’t skipping to get to Gaby and Paul either. It seemed as soon as Gaby attempted to call out to at least, Ez to get his attention, Paul was off pulling her somewhere else.

Anyone oblivious would find that it was just natural to get caught up in multiple conversations. This gathering was a party of at least forty so that was surely possible but you and Ez both picked up on what Paul was doing.

Did it bother you?

No. It shouldn’t. Despite you having a lengthy history with Paul, it did catch you off guard to see him here after all these years but you were not the one acting scared of this man. If you wanted to have a word with Paul, you would.

Vacations were for the temporary erase of reality. So you sat pretty kiki-ing with everyone around you, falling into conversations with Ez’s hand comfortably resting on your thigh, to switching from the best tequila to a nice white wine, and waiting on your meal of the night while smiling at Paul every time you caught his stare. It wasn’t until he saw Ez brushing your hair back behind your shoulders and countlessly pecking your lips, making you laugh and feel silly since you were slightly tipsy.

The clinking of glass broke your attention from Ez’s but that didn’t stop him from scooting his chair even closer to you. Whenever the two of you got some liquor in your system, the touching definitely amplified. And tequila down here? Was much different than the kind you had in California, that much you knew. You hoped you made it to Gaby’s 1pm wedding and you only had one shot.

“Excuse me, groom to be is speaking.” Paul rasped, hand on his chest as he gazed at all the faces, “I just want to say before we’re all no longer able to speak by the end of the night that Gabs and I thank you for being here with us tonight.”

Some loud laughs followed by some already drunk members.

“I also wanted to propose a small toast since you may or may not be aware it’s my thing and there will be many more at the reception.” He winked, earning a cheer from Gaby while you leaned back in your chair in confusion.

He smiled down at Gabby before raising his whisky glass, “as I look at all of your faces tonight, I’m so glad I get to share this moment with you. It’s about the celebration of a emotion that is so…invigorating. It’s about fucking love! and I love this woman beside me so much that I hope you can all feel that right now and tomorrow afternoon. If we can’t lead by example for all my single friends and family out there, you all are the example.”

“To love!”

“To Brandon and Gabriela!”

“What a fucken sap.” Coco muttered from beside Ez, earning a laugh from the man while Hope pushed his shoulder with a shush.

Letty agreed from next to you still raising her glass as everyone else, “yeah a real fucking simp that one is but hey, at least Gaby’s happy!”

You watched as Paul leaned down to give Gaby a quick kiss, her hands resting on his chest for a moment before he quickly pulled away raising his glass once more then taking a seat back next to her. This time? Gaby’s eyes were in both you and Ez’s direction yet the both of you had your eyes set on the food headed your way.

The night turned out decent with coco complaining about the “fucked up prices,” before taking his exit with Hope and yelling at Letty to come on before she had to find her own way back to hotel. She was all middle fingers and giving a tight embrace to Ryan, which made you smirk as you made your way to the bathroom. When you turned around you bumped into Gaby and apologized.

“Sorry, girl.”

“It’s okay, y/n! Don’t even worry about it.”

“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You slightly bounced, “I meant to ask Letty but she got snatched up by some other kid back there?”

Gaby smiled as she glanced over your shoulder, “yes, Ryan. Brandon’s step-nephew? Nephew. I knew it would only be a matter of time, letty has a type.”

“Ah, another asshole.”

“He’s young and likes to have fun. Stupid but fun.” Gaby shared a laugh with you, “bathroom is through those doors to the right, once you get to the fountain at the end, it’s straight back.”

“Thank you!” You lightly gripped her wrist, “have a great night and I’ll see you on your big day.”

Gaby nodded as you let go of her wrist but she called out to you, “It will be a dream won’t it?”

“That’s what life is,” you shrugged, “at least that’s what the nursery rhyme says.”

Gaby began to twist her hands together looking down. You sighed bouncing a bit more but didn’t want to be rude, tonight was all about the positive yet Gaby seemed to be a bit lost in this moment.

“What’s wrong, Gaby?”

“I just—it’s nothing. Just nerves? Yes nerves. I’m about to marry a man, a brilliant man and I still have questions. Usually I’m not scared to ask those questions but when I look at you…I have them.”

Blinking you asked, “what do you mean, Gaby?”

“I know you and Brandon used to be together for a long time,” Gaby met your eyes, “I knew it from the moment I showed him a picture of you and Ez. Tonight confirmed what his mouth did not say.”

You blew out a long breath. What were you supposed to say in this moment? Gaby had suspicions but never felt the need to at least say that to Ez? They didn’t talk much besides holidays and birthdays but it was enough for her to want him to be in her wedding. When you glanced over to Ez hugging Hope goodnight, you saw Felipe looking away from your direction.

He knew.

He always knew something no one else did. That man could keep so much to himself that it made you wonder what else did he know? What did he possibly know about Paul you wondered?

“I just want to make sure I’m marrying a good man.”

“I can’t tell you that,” you strongly told, “that’s something you should have already figured out. You’re with present P-Brandon, I was with past Brandon. What versions we know of him could be different. You’re smart Gaby, what does your head say?”

Gaby dipped her head, a small smile on her lips, “you’re right. I do know Brandon and what we have, I’m just being silly and scared to make mistakes but that’s life. I trust him. It’s my last night as a engaged woman and I should enjoy it…I’m sorry I brought the mood down but thank you for listening! Now go.”

“Are you sure?” You wondered if this was a facade Gaby was putting up in that moment.

What about Paul made her have these questions? It couldn’t just be your past relationship with him could it?

“Yes! All is well. I’ll see you soon.” She waved, smiling before she spun on her feet to leave.

You shook your head, unsure about Gaby but realized your bladder was oh so close to failing you as you rushed off to the restrooms. You held the door with your foot, drying your hands with a incredibly gentle paper towel before tossing it into the garbage.

Smoothing down your dress you sniffed at your hands, the complimentary lotion smelled like cotton candy which made you want to head to a carnival soon. Just as you were going around the corner, a hand slapped over your mouth and pushed you up against the wall.

You couldn’t get to your taser in your mini bag so you went to use your elbow as a defense but your attacker slapped your arm down making you hiss. A glare was on your face now as your eyes flicked up to meet familiar dark eyes with a beauty mark by the left one.

“Hello sweetheart.”

You shoved him back making him laugh as he let his hand fall from your lips, his eyes lingering there waiting for you to speak.

“What’s your problem? You had to slither around to say something to me but can’t speak in front of everyone else?”

“Why be fake?” Paul crossed his arms, making you inwardly chuckle as the sleeves seemed to tighten.

It was your turn to scoff, “fake?!” You pointed your finger in his face which he bit at earning a slap from you, “you’re the motherfucker who left me, disappeared without a trace, leaving me with a voicemail and a gotdamn ring—

“It was to protect you! I had to! You have no idea what I had to do for your safety.” He yelled into your face, “Jesus, I thought you’d be over this by now.”

You nodded, “I see you didn’t change. It’s still all about you and fuck everybody else, huh? Everyone thought you were dead. Do your parents know where your at, Paul? I mean Brandon.”

Paul rubbed at the back of his neck, “that’s none of your concern is it? Don’t act like you care now when I reached out for you to meet me so we could discuss everything.”

“What’re you talking about?” You laughed incredulously.

“I was never too far from you, I know you know that. Know you felt that,” Paul stared into your eyes, “I sent you letters…even had Manny sneak them to you but you clearly moved on so I had to too.”

You frowned, “‘I never…Manny? You’re working together…don’t tell me you’re part of a charter out here?”

“No…something even better. I have to make bank to survive and I don’t want to scrap to do that like your loser of a boyfriend.”

You went to slap him again but Paul had your wrist with a quickness, “uh oh…look at you defending him and you don’t even know what shit he’s about to get himself into.”

“It’s not my business.” You gritted, “I don’t have time for your bullshit, I’m on vacation.”

“yeah…you keep saying that.”

That made you tilt your head to the side. Paul analyzed you as you silently pieced something together…did he have cameras in your hotel room? Your chest suddenly began to rise and fall with immense pace.

“Ah, the wheels are starting to turn now, huh?” He caressed your face, “I meant it when I said we were destined to be together. That I’d never let you go—not completely anyway.”

Swallowing you reminded the curly headed man, “You’re about to get married to Gaby.”

“And she’s great but she’s not you.”

“Not my problem.” You hissed, “life goes on so keep your shit on your side and we’ll be fine. Don’t fuck with me or Ezekiel and do right by that girl, you hear me?”

Paul clicked his tongue as you pushed by him, giving him the chance to check you out,“I hear you and see you babe but I always get what I want.”

You couldn’t get away from that man fast enough. The ego was still there but much bigger than what you knew. Paul was raised mainly by his gambling dad, originally from a reservation in Washington before his dad took him to Ohio after the divorce from Paul’s mom. Paul ended up with a half sister from his mom which contributed to the divorce and the bad drinking habit from his father. One thing you knew about Paul was that he was always hot tempered and a go-getter. You weren’t sure what he was into now but if he knew Manny from back home? And seemed to be threatened by Ezekiel…? then you definitely had bigger issues than a simple case of an ex.

You tried to brush that feeling off as you hurried back to Ez and Felipe who waited outside of the restaurant for you.

“Everything okay?” Felipe asked you, sitting in the backseat of the rental.

That gained Ez’s attention as he waited outside of the vehicle for you, texting away on his phone. He pushed off the car, reaching for your waist with one hand and pinching at your chin with the other. “I’m seeing a hint of stress and that shouldn’t be, y/n.” He wiggled you by the hip, hoping to see you smile.

“I probably shouldn’t have taken that sangria to the head…everything is much stronger here. Or it’s the bleach in the bathroom’s that’s getting to me.” You reassured Ez who tightened his eyes a little bit, studying you.

He peered over your head to see Paul exiting through the back with Gaby right behind him. Ez hummed as he led you to the passenger side, opening the door for you as you slid in.

All of this led to a horrifying day. It happened in spurts, arriving to the church arms wrapped around each other with warm smiles as you greeted the guests on your way down the aisle. The venue was basically like a arena, seats flowing in a curved shape that led down to a walkway over water where huge trees surrounded by floral bushes sat beyond two main benches where the bride and groom would be seated.

It was very tranquil and private, very Gaby.

You remembered the soft music playing as everyone waited around falling into small chatter. You remembered hearing Ez’s phone buzz in his pocket, him pulling it out before shoving it back into its spot. He sat beside you for at least another two minutes before he said he would be back. You remembered the look Felipe had in his eye as he watched his son leave before sliding over to you. You remembered turning to Hope, Coco, and Letty across the aisle.

“Anybody check on the groom?” Someone asked as the priest stood before them all at his own designated spot.

More worries than concerns began to fill the venue as guests occasionally looked over their shoulders in search of Paul. The music seemed to change after some time, to a bridal tune? With everyone getting to their feet to watch Gaby? Gaby be led down the aisle with her younger brother, which was so precious.

She looked beautiful in a dainty ivory cowl-neck satin dress that clung to her hips and flowed at the bottom. The veil was covered with pearls as she took her time, a smile on her lips as everyone cooed at her. Her brother stopped at the end of the walkway, Gaby kissing his cheek before she spoke softly to the priest and took her seat on the bench with her lily bouquet.

It was minutes after Gaby sat on the bench that something fell from the sky. It wasn’t just something, it was Paul’s body that splattered onto the now broken table that sat in front of the two benches. The priest jumped back from his pulpit eyes shooting you towards the sky as Gaby got to her feet, screams falling from lips.

“Brandon!” You wouldn’t forget those screams and the way the bride slipped on the blood the pooled from Paul’s body, staining her dress.

The gaps followed along with some screams before the guests snapped out of it and rushed to their aide. You found yourself moving from the aisle to stand in the main one, watching from the distance as Paul lay on torso, cheek resting against the ground with a badly broken nose and eyes wide open.

“Fucking Boy Scout.” You heard coco mutter, his eyes also upwards in which you whipped around to face the braided man.

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t hear that but all of the women: you, Hope, and Letty had their eyes on him.

“What did you say—

You started charging over to him but Felipe gripped your wrist, resting your palm against his as Coco slipped by you with Hope yelling after him. Letty shook her head in disbelief, staring hard at Felipe then she headed down the aisle to her friend.

“Listen,” Felipe started but you shook your head, “listen to me! You’re gonna leave and take Hope with you. My son is experiencing La noche oscura del alma. Look it up when you get far from him then you’ll understand. This was no accident.”

“Mr. Felipe, what else aren’t you telling me?” You breathed.

“There is no time to explain.” He looked around at the horrified faces, “coco will hold Ezekiel off long enough but you need to go. La noche oscura del alma by St. John of the cross. Remember it?”

Dipping your head, Felipe placed a kiss against your forehead and gently pushed you off waving a very confused and very frightened Hope after you.

“Shouldn’t we be calling for help instead of running off? What the hell just happened and why is Felipe encouraging you to get away from ez?” Hope panted as she kept up with you.

You ignored her, “Do you have the keys to your rental?”

Hope nodded searching her bag, “I’m sure I do and what about Letty? We can’t just leave her here.”

“The best place for Letty is with Gaby’s family right now but I know Felipe will watch over them, believe me.” You sped-walk through the parking lot as the adrenaline began to kick in.

The both of you were jogging through cars, dodging mirrors with Hope leading the way with the jingle of the rental keys. She hit the remote frowning as it did nothing until she got closer to the Subaru, having to use the key in the door.

“C’mon.” You whispered, waiting for the girl to unlock the rest of the car.

Hope did so and before she climbed into the car she gasped as she watched you get picked up in the air by a gloved Ez. Before Hope could let out a scream, a hand covered her own mouth and she just knew it belonged to Johnny’s. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as tears blurred her vision, Johnny spinning her around so she didn’t have to see this.

You jammed your heel down onto Ez’s foot, making him slightly loosen his hold on you. Your head went back next, hoping to knock Ez back some. He grunted before deciding to toss you against the car, your body bruising as you attempted to catch yourself. Briefly you saw Coco trying to console Hope for whatever reason and you turned back to ez who looked like he previously got into a fight himself.

Case closed.

“Why? What’s this all about?”

Ez sniffed, squinting a bit as he used the back of his hand to wipe at the blood from his split eyebrow. “It’s not really you, y/n. It’s all Paul-Brandon, he’s in the way of my club and unfortunately you’re connected. Like I said when we first got together I promised to keep you out of it. It’s a hard job.”

This still doesn’t make any sense.

“So you don’t love me anymore because of him?”

Ez deeply frowned at you, “I don’t think I ever said that. I got the call I needed to confirm what he was plotting…that didn’t work out in his favor either. So…”

“You’re gonna murder me too now in broad daylight because of Paul’s shit?”

You attempted to run to the left, Ez following you with a menacing smile, a gun with a silencer on it was now tucked underneath your chin. The man hated doing this but you couldn’t tell as he caressed your face with a bloody glove which evoked a shudder from you.

“No,” Ez slowly said as he glanced around, pulling the gun away, not revealing a thing about his motives, “This is hurting me a lot more than it’s gonna hurt you, believe me, my love.”

A snarl was written on your lips leaving Ez to take the opportunity and lift the butt of the gun and jam it against your eye. The action knocked you forward, Ez swiftly catching you as he eased you into the backseat of the car with Coco coaching Hope to drive.

One things for sure—as your head rested in the lap of a man you thought could be the love of your life—if you got a preview to what this day would bring?

You would have stayed your ass inside.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

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mayans-mc · 2 years

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#mayans mc #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez x gaby #mayansedit #mayans season 3 #shook #*myedits

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bumblesimagines · 2 years

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Imagine:

Finding out Ez is seeing someone

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Today was the day you'd finally confess to your longtime friend. Even during those 8 years where he'd been locked up, your feelings for him persisted and while a lot of time had passed, you hoped there was at least a slim chance he'd return those feelings.

With a list of things to say on your notes app, you read through them and prayed all went well. The rocks and pebbles beneath your shoes crunched and cracked, Ez's trailer coming onto view. You could feel your stomach protesting the whole thing, hands growing sweaty and clammy.

For christ sake, it was just Ezekiel. There was no reason for you to be so nervous! You'd known him all your life so why did you feel like you were walking into the lions den? Ez was kind, even to those who didn't deserve it. If he rejected you, he'd do it in the nicest way possible.

Gathering whatever courage you had left, you raised your hand and knocked twice on his trailer door. The trailer shifted slightly and you heard muffled voices.

"Fuck.." You muttered, thinking up any excuses to get you out of having to speak with another club member.

However, it wasn't a musty Mayan. The person who opened the door was a young girl with the prettiest smile you'd ever seen. Soft tan skin, long wavy hair, and kind eyes. She was gorgeous.. Perfect for someone like Ez.

"Hello!" She greeted with an accent, glancing over her shoulder at Ez.

"Oh, hey, (Y/N)."

"S-Sorry, I didn't know you were busy. I didn't mean to interrupt a date." Part of you hoped one of them would deny it and claim to be just friends. But then the woman smiled and looked back at Ez, his eyes having that familiar twinkle Angel used to have around Adelita. You felt your eyes sting.

With darkened cheeks and a big smile, Ez cleared his throat. "Nah, it's fine, (Y/N). What's up?"

"Nothing, I can ask the others. Fuck, even Chucky could answer my question." You forced a laughed and extended your hand to shake the womans.

"Gabriela, but you can call me Gaby." She flashed another smile and you felt a prickle of annoyance at her kindness. Not particularly directed at her, but you wished there was some sort of flaw that could result in Ez disliking her.

"Nice to meet you, Gaby. I'll see you two around." You breathed out and took a step back, giving a small wave before turning around. You waited until the trailer door shut before exhaling and finally allowing the tears to fall.

It was too late and a beautiful woman had been able to snatch him up. All the years pining over him and wanting to confess only for life to get in the way each time. First Emily, then prison, and now Gaby.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

Gifs aren't mine.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #ez reyes x male reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x you #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel #mayans mc x male reader #mayans mc x you #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc gaby

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breanime · 2 years

Note

Waiiiit why don’t you ship hope and coco? Also thoughts on gabby & ez? 😭

No, not really. I just think they're very unhealthy people, and they should get well as individuals first. Like beyond the drug use, to me, it seems to me that Coco has always thrown himself into things instead of facing his demons--the war, the MC, Hope-- and I just want him to face his own issues without trying to "fix" them by jumping headfirst into something new. I do think they're cute, and I'm open to liking the ship eventually, but I need to see more, I think.

Also, I am jealous lol.

Gabby and EZ were the only canon couple on the show that I shipped. I miss her every day. She is an angel and I want her to come back and continue to be her angelic, badass, self-aware self and be the one thing that keeps EZ from going too far while also showing him there's more (way more!) than just the MC and violence out there.

#ez reyes x gaby castillo #coco x hope #mayans mc

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isabellaofparma · 1 year

Photo

fröhlich kristóf is doing this for me. only for me.

#ez a sorozat nem jó de a secret good version in my head kárpótól #nika x kolos x gabi ot3 jó megyünk #magyar tag #ki vagy te

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drabbles-mc · 10 months

Text

Weekend Getaway

Gilly Lopez x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's June Challenge: beach, sundress, "There's someone in the house!"

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, slight steam

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I figured I was due to give Gilly a little fluff since I'm gonna be putting the man Thru It in my series for him lmao. Enjoy some little vacation sweetness with the man who is taking over my whole brain 😌

General Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @nessmc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @darqchilddaydreamz @danzer8705 @camelia35 @cositapreciosa @narcolini (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You could hear the sound of the waves crashing from where you stood in the kitchen. The sliding glass door of the house that you’d rented for a long weekend getaway had a few steps just on the other side, but those steps were the only things separating you from the sand. The house was back far enough so that high tide wouldn’t reach you, but it also wasn’t going to take much effort at all to get to the point where the water would be washing over your feet.

Along with the sound of the waves, you could also hear the whoops and hollers of all the men that were out on the sand. Someone had set up a volleyball net and once it was up, none of them had come back to the house except to grab more drinks to bring out. You didn’t mind it—the break was hard earned, for everyone. The fact that so many of them had jumped on board with the idea of getting away for a weekend now that everything had calmed down a bit was shocking to you. It was nothing short of a miracle that you all had managed to get two houses right next to each other, letting you be neighbors on the beach.

You’d retreated back to the house you were staying in to shower and change after a swim in the ocean. Nothing would be as funny to you as the number of bikers who refused to get in the water because they were convinced they were going to be devoured by sharks. The same men who would willingly and without hesitation go into a gun-fight, wouldn’t go in the water past the waist of their swim-trunks. Gilly had gone with you, and you could tell by the look on EZ’s face that he would eventually dive in before the day was out, if for no other reason than Gaby dragging him in, but the rest of them kept their feet on the dry sand. The overly competitive games of volleyball kept them distracted enough.

Once you had managed to get as much sand off you as possible, you dried off, throwing on a simple, casual sundress instead. The only plans you had until dinner now revolved around plopping on a deck chair with a drink and a book. You’d be able to listen to and watch all of the shenanigans unfold without getting hit with any of the sand that was getting kicked up. You also wouldn’t be roped into something that was more than you bargained for by having to tag into the game. You had watched it happen to Creeper’s wife, but luckily she was competitive enough to hang with the best of them, much to Angel’s demise.

You were half-listening to the controlled chaos outside as you opened the fridge. Once the cool air hit you, your quest for something to make drinks with was instantly forgotten. Your eyes were wandering over everything in front of you, but you weren’t really registering any of it. It wasn’t until you heard heavy footsteps barging through the door and laughter that was too loud to mean anything good that you snapped out of your daze.

Coco was dripping wet, trying his best to look angry but failing at it miserably as he trekked through the house. You had to assume that his state had everything to do with Angel and Gilly who were walking in right behind him, nearly doubled over from laughter.

“Do I wanna know?” you asked with a chuckle as you grabbed a water bottle and shut the fridge door, deciding that drink-making could wait until the chaos crew had left the room.

Coco paused for long enough to explain the situation to you, water dripping from the curls that were now starting to fall out of whatever mess of a bun situation he’d tried to strap them up in. “These motherfuckers,” he gestured to Angel and Gilly, laughing when he saw they were still laughing, “threw me in the fuckin’ ocean.” He hastily pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Like they wanna see me get torn apart by a shark or somethin’.”

“In our defense,” Angel said, fighting hard not to descend back into a fit of laughter, “we said whoever cost their team the next point was gettin’ tossed.” He sniffed, a smirk on his face. “Gotta up your game, bro.”

Coco laughed and shook his head. “Fuck you.”

You were shaking your head at all of them, unable to do anything else besides that as you tried to hold your amusement in the best you could. Taking a deep breath, you couldn’t suppress your grin as you looked at Coco. “Why don’t you go shower, or at least find a towel so you don’t keep dripping all over the beach house floor.”

He turned and started walking deeper into the house to where his room was. “Blame those—”

“I know,” you called after him, cutting him off with a laugh, “it’s all their fault, Coco.” Once you got your giggling under control, you turned back to Angel and Gilly. “Why don’t you give him a break and go terrorize EZ instead.”

“Psh,” Angel pushed his damp hair back, smoothing it as best he could given that the ocean had stripped all the product out of it, “don’t gotta tell me twice.” He clapped Gilly on the shoulder before turning around and heading back to the beach.

You looked at Gilly expectantly, thinking that he was going to turn and leave with a similar type of comment about wanting to go give grief so someone else on the beach. Instead, though, he stood there and stared at you, a smile on his face as he lingered in the doorway.

A soft chuckle slipped out of you as you watched him watching you. Twisting the top off the water bottle in your hand, you took a long drink before finally saying, “You good?”

His smile grew wider as he laughed. “I’m good, yea.”

“Need something?” You tilted the water bottle in his direction. “Drink?”

He shook his head as he stepped all the way into the house. He slid the screen door shut behind him before walking over to where you were standing. “I’m good,” he repeated, smile still on his face as his eyes traveled up and down your body.

“You sure?” You chuckled, something about the look in his eyes still knocking the wind out of you even though you’d lost count of the number of times you’d seen it at this point. “Looks like you might need something.”

“You always had this?” he asked, fully knowing the answer as he reached forward and ran his fingertips over the skirt of your dress.

“No,” you said with a smirk starting to pull at your lips. “Got it for the trip.” It was your turn to ask questions that you already had the answers to. “Like it?”

He nodded with no hesitation, eyes lingering everywhere longer than they needed to as his gaze made it back up to your face. “Looks good.”

You smiled, trying to sound nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. “Glad you approve.”

He chuckled at your choice of words, the way you phrased it as though there had ever been a time when Gilly didn’t love whatever you put on. Sure, he made more than enough comments about how you didn’t really have to wear much of anything at his place, but that had nothing to actually do with your choice in clothing.

Suddenly he was pressed up against you, chest to chest, hands slithering around until they were resting on the small of your back. He smelled like salt water and the slightest hint of body wash that was still clinging to him. You smiled, palm resting flat against his chest. A few stray droplets that were still lingering on his skin melded into yours as well.

“Your team is gonna start wondering where you are,” you joked. Despite your words being so casual, your tone gave away the fact that the proximity was doing more to you than you wanted to admit.

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They’ll figure it out.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you tried to get your wandering thoughts under control. That task would’ve been easier to complete if Gilly’s hands hadn’t been wandering as well. His hands slid down from the small of your back until the tips of his fingers were grazing against the backs of your thighs. You leaned back slightly, hands resting on the edge of the counter.

“Gilly…” you chuckled as you said it, but there was still a hint of warning in your tone.

He laughed as he leaned in closer to you, erasing the tiny sliver of space that had been left between you. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes, knowing that for your sanity’s sake you should push him away but you couldn’t make yourself do it. “Don’t ask like you don’t know.”

Both of you were laughing at that for a moment before he caught your lips with his. You smiled into the kiss at first, the way that it started off soft and sweet. You could still feel the rumble of his laughter as his mouth moved with yours. You brought one hand up to rest in the spot where his neck met his shoulder, applying just the slightest bit of pressure to bring him closer to you.

He took the action to be an invitation, apparently. You felt his hands grip tighter onto you and you knew immediately what was coming. You pushed up with your hand that was still on the edge of the counter, allowing him to set you up on it. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling the two of you as close together as you could manage. His hands slid down from your hips until they were resting on top of your thighs. You couldn’t fight the smile off your face while you kissed him, feeling the way he was slowly but surely sliding up the hem of your skirt.

“Gilly,” you said, his name accompanied by a breathless laugh as you pulled your lips off of his.

“Yea?” he said it like he had no idea what could possibly be giving you pause.

You set your hands on top of his to stop him, shaking your head. “Stop,” you told him, trying to make your whisper sound harsh but failing as you continued to laugh.

“Stop what?” he played dumb, hands continuing to wander.

“There’s someone in the house!” you whisper-shouted, laughter still shining through as you tried to swat his hands away. “It’s not the time or—”

“Coco is gonna be pouting for at least—”

“And the rest of your friends who keep traipsing in and out of here? Stealing all your beer?” you asked, smiling as your forehead came to rest against his.

He chuckled as his hand grazed along the inside of your thigh. “We could be quick.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Shaking your head at him, you said, “One, I don’t wanna be quick.” You kissed his cheek. “And two, I’ve got no interest in getting caught. I don’t need the guys knowing me like that,” you added with a laugh.

It got him to laugh. More importantly, it got his hands to still for a moment as he considered what you were saying.

You took the hesitation as a win. Wrapping your hand around his forearm, you repositioned his hands so that they were resting on your hips again, over the fabric of your dress instead of under it. “How about,” you leaned back just slightly so that you could see his eyes, “we finish this later,” you kissed him softly on the lips, “and I’ll make it worth the wait?”

He laughed, sighing as his head dropped back so that he was staring at the ceiling for a moment. “You’re the devil sometimes, you know that?”

You laughed as you cupped his face, tracing your thumb along his cheek for a moment before your hands dropped back into your laugh. “You started it.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at you even though he knew you were right. “Whatever,” he said as he laughed.

You hopped down off the counter as he stepped away. Reaching out, you managed to tangle your fingers with his before he stepped too far away. “Hey.” You pulled him back to you, or rather, you pulled yourself closer to him. He looked at you, eyebrows raised waiting for whatever you were going to say next. You laughed, tilting your head so that you could steal another quick kiss before saying, “I love you.”

His smile grew a little wider. “Yea,” he tried his best to sound sarcastic but the look in his eyes gave him away, “I love you too.” He took another step towards the door that led back outside. “Remember that later.”

#navy and roos sleepover #navy and roo's sleepover #slumber party #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayansmc #mayans mc fanfic #gilly lopez fanfiction #gilly lopez #gilly lopez x reader #gilly lopez x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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hausofmamadas · 7 months

Text

| What’s waiting down Zuni Road |

⁂

Pairing: Gabriella Castillo (Mayans M.C.) x Ignacio “Nacho” Varga (Better Call Saul)

Gift for the wonderful, illustrious, prolific @drabbles-mc - Rarepairs Exchange 2023

Word count: ≈5k

TW: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of violence

It's dangerous to be a woman in love. A brush with death at the hands of the man she loved sends Gabrielle Castillo on the run, in more ways than she expected. Burned in a betrayal she never saw coming, and tipped off by a non-garbage Angel Reyes to a place to hide out, a safe haven, a place to temporarily call home, she books it tf to Albuquerque. She arrives with newfound determination not only to survive, but a conviction to never let love blind her to pinshe toxicos malparidos like EZ Reyes ever again. Still, in terms of an actual plan? She has no idea where to go, who to turn to, or what to do next. That is, until she runs into our fav Walter Matthau-grumpy-old-man, not nearly old enough to be so grumpy, Nacho "forreal don't call me Ignacio" Varga. In some ways, he reminds her of EZ but she's dead set against falling for another pair of brown eyes full of lost hope and squandered dreams. But the more she gets to know him, the more it calls into question ... would it really be the same with Nacho? Is Gaby willing to find out? spoiler alert: she is. she very much is. sorry but like have you seen him? lbr here

⁂

Mamá always told me to watch out for red flags in life. Dime con quien andas, te diré quien eres. Porque when someone shows you who they are, they’re doing you a favor.

She never said it out loud but I learned early on, the ones who waved the red flags most were the boys. Not that I was especially boy crazy at that age, but it seemed wherever I looked, there they were: waving red flags, making promises they couldn’t keep, being unfaithful, disloyal, dishonest.

My older cousin Mercedes had a boyfriend back in Mexico who used to tell her not to wear shorts that were too short because he did not like the way her thighs flattened on chairs when she sat down. At the age of five, I knew how mean it was and to this day, I cannot understand how it didn’t bring her to tears. But it didn’t. And she always listened to him about things like that, until he got her best friend pregnant and the two of them ran off together, leaving Mercedes behind. It was the best thing he could have ever done for her though. Because she never let anyone tell her what kind of shorts to wear after that.

The first boy I ever had a crush on in elementary school told me that even though he thought my eyes were pretty and he liked how I wore my hair in braids, we couldn’t be together because I raised my hand too much in class to answer questions. And girls were not supposed to be as smart as boys. At the picnic tables at lunch, I cried over my usual peanut butter and jelly sandwich, when my friends asked me what was wrong, I couldn’t even explain what it was that hurt me so.

Even Papá, loving and kind as he could be, made Mamá feel small when he told her that having to sell her floral shop in Mexico, so we could come here, wasn’t as great a loss as him losing his career as a police officer. “What’s selling a few flowers to a few abuelitas to putting my life on the line, to upholding law and order every day?” he’d ask. And she would say nothing in return, just smile soft and sad, plopping a scoop of rice onto his plate. It took me years to understand that sadness in her smile.

𖤓

Driving down highway 40, with the windows down, my hair whipping in the wind, and all the desert dust mixing with the faint, floral smell of my shampoo, I feel like I have been mainlining that sadness for the last five hundred miles. Because from the moment I met Ezekiel Reyes, I did not see it coming. It’s not that there weren’t red flags as with all the other boys. But he had a way of making it seem like they were all a force of circumstance. Gee, how did those get there? Someone must have put those up when I wasn’t looking. He was sensitive, compassionate, smarter than anyone I had ever met, and troubled in a way he seemed not to be responsible for.

I should have trusted my instincts. I should have listened to my mother’s advice. But EZ Reyes is also one of the best liars I have ever known. People who lie best are the ones who believe the lie first themselves. That is what he did. It was easy. So it was easy to believe him.

On the road, when it gets dark, I start to see his eyes like they were the last time I saw him. They are every pair of headlights in the rear view mirror: two voids with a kind of frigid, lifeless pain inside. Any echo of the love between us snuffed out, washed away, sterilized like a surgeon’s scalpel. Nevermind that candle in my heart might have burned for him forever. But it seems we do not love the same way.

One of my hands comes off the wheel to touch the spot at my ribs on the left side where he had held the gun. A shot I would have never seen coming, were it not for Angel’s screaming and tackling us both to the ground, shoving me away, telling me to run as fast as I could and never look back. If only I had fallen for that big lug instead of Ezekiel. But that one wore his red flags on his sleeve, screamed them from a mile away. That honesty I misjudged as a warning was really an asset. Porque Angel no podía mentir una mierda, ni siquiera a sí mismo. But we cannot help who we love.

Wiping sweat from my forehead, I pass a mile marker and then a bigger sign: eleven miles to Albuquerque. Good because Angel’s check engine light has turned on and I need gas. I drag my hand across my forehead again. Leave it to Angel to have a car with no AC. Well, no. I remind myself I’m no fool. The car probably wasn’t his. They would’ve stolen it before they got to the hospital.

The sun has been beating down on me through the driver’s side window, relentless and my face is so damp, I can’t seem to tell the difference between the sweat and the tears that periodically drop down to dot my cheeks. I stopped bothering to wipe those all the way back in Tucson. The dust has stuck to them too, so the skin on my face is stiff and my lips have a grainy feel to them. There is something about it that I like, that feels tangible. Algo sobre la tierra en mis lágrimas es un consuelo, y en mi dolor me hice sentir menos sola.

My cellphone buzzes in my bag. Low battery. It is a miracle it has lasted this long. Perhaps my last tether to civilization, I wonder if I shouldn’t let it die and disappear from my old life completely. No, with Mamá back home there is no old or new life. I escaped Santo Padre with the only one I have. Angel said he would get word to her, let her know I was okay, tell her where I was going. A place I didn’t even know.

Once I hit the city limits, I reach in my pocket and pull out the crinkled cardboard pack, an empty cigarette box Angel had hastily scribbled an Albuquerque address on. I triple check to make sure I have remembered it correctly, then take the fourth exit.

𖤓

After I left Angel and EZ, grappling with each other on that hilltop by the hospital, I went to Mercedes’ house to hole up. It was a dingy little duplex not far from the hospital but EZ didn’t know where it was and that’s what mattered. It was kind of funny. I had not expected Angel to follow up, texting me, asking if I was okay, where I was. But he did. Even after I told him, I had not expected him to do anything with that information, certainly not stop by or send someone. But he did. So, when a knock came at the front door, in a frenzy, I lurched off the couch and lunged for the baseball bat that I’d taken from the coat closet earlier and set against the front door before dozing off. Glancing through the peephole, I half expected to see EZ's cold, hard eyes, peering back at me across the threshold of warped glass. Mercifully, it was somebody else. Someone I didn’t recognize. Judging by the kutte over his hoodie and the large black script inked on his neck that spelled Mayans, another proud member of the club. Someone I had not met before. He stood in front of the door, hood up, hands clasped in front of him at attention, almost like a bouncer at a nightclub but without the air of compensation. On the contrary, he was at ease, almost serene when I swung open the screen door, wild-eyed and bat in hand. “Are you Gaby?” He'd barely batted an eye. I nodded slowly. “Angel sent me with some stuff for you.” I furrowed my brow, suspicious but too frazzled to form words. “Yeah, uh— He wanted to deliver this himself, but homie had to take care of that trifling, mocoso cagado brother of his, chase that motherfucker back down to Santo Padre. But I stuck around, so he sent me instead.” He extended his hand. “I’m Manny.” With some hesitation, I set the bat down and shook his hand, then motioned to allow him inside. He refused, head rattling from side to side. “Nah, I don’t— I can’t stay long. Just wanted to give you these.” He held out the crumpled cigarette box and the keys to 'Angel’s' car, dropping them in the palm of my hand. Through tears that I wasn’t even aware had begun to fall, I joked tiredly, “So, I narrowly escape getting killed by the love of my life and Angel thinks I’m ready to take up smoking?” “Yea, right? Guess when you cheat death, seems as good a time as any to pick up a habit that causes terminal illness.” Manny stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets and leaned against the doorway, eyes cast down, chuckling at the ground. “Nah, actually there’s an address on it. A guy we know in New Mexico from a job Yuma and Santo Padre did with him a while back. His people’ll take care of you.” “Who is it?” “His name— well, he’s a guy who’s connected enough in Mexico that EZ can’t come after you there. Y’know, bad for business.” With a knowing smirk, he tipped his head, “Si me sientes.” There seemed a reluctance to say this man’s name outright but I couldn't understand why. Oh, right. Connected in Mexico. One of the cartels. So more of that then. Standing in the doorway with my arms crossed, at the manic pace only akin to that of an animal backed into a corner, I evaluated the options presented to me now. Could this truly be my only one? Something else my mother used to say was already at the tip of my tongue. “Lo peligroso que es ser una mujer enamorada.”** I began to cry harder now and Manny’s head snapped back up to look at me. “Aw easy now, ma,” he said gently, stepping closer to brush a tear from my cheek with the back of his hand. “Todo estará bien.” I nodded weakly before choking out through something that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, “I know this is a weird question but— pero ya puedes abrazarme?” He smiled softly, stepping back with open arms, and the moment my head hit the shoulder of this kind stranger, I came apart at the seams.

𖤓

It had only been two days on the road but the writing on the cigarette package is already faded, probably from so much time spent folded up in the pocket of my jeans.

6611 Zuni Rd SE,

Albuquerque, NM

ask 4 grumpyass mf named Varga

I am not sure why I bother to keep looking at it when I have the address memorized, seared in my brain because I had charted my route the old fashioned way, on a map I got from a gas station back in Lodi. A measure that seems silly now given that my phone is still somehow clinging to life.

I pull into the parking lot of 6611 Zuni Road and slide into an open spot, of which there are many. Business does not appear to be booming. In quaint, Hot-Rod red cursive along the top of the building, it reads “Tapizados, Custom Upholstery, Reparación.” Auto upholstery. As good a front as any, I suppose.

My nerves are fried and the entrance of the shop taunts me while I stare at it, trying to figure out how to smoke out this Varga. It would’ve been helpful to have more than just a name. Was it a first? A last? Based on what little was in the note, Varga could be a woman for all I know. Although Manny had specifically said it was a guy. Tracing the hastily scribbled address on the wilted cardboard, I am filled with warmth, reminded of my gratitude to Angel for doing the best he could with what he had. I can do the rest. I simply have to.

A broken bell clangs pitifully as the door of the shop closes behind me. It is empty of customers and seemingly, anyone who might work there. There is another bell on the counter and I wonder if that one is broken too. If it isn’t, with the Norteño music blaring in a room in the back with a bunch of tables with sewing machines, I wonder if anyone would hear it. Before I get a chance to find out, two men in matching uniforms arguing in the parking lot outside catch my attention. Partly because they’re arguing but largely because they both seem to be wearing matching uniforms, an indication yes, someone indeed ran this fine establishment and didn’t leave it to the norteño corridos to manage.

An older man with a thick, dark head of hair and a dark mustache alternates between pinching his forehead and speaking through gritted teeth to a younger man with hair buzzed so short, he looks almost bald, whose back is turned to me. Mustache man looks to be the boss and when the other man steps aside for a moment, I spot the name on his shirt. M. Varga. Simón! Él es un gruñón de verdad like Angel said. He looks just like another gruñón I know too. In fact, if his hair wasn’t so dark, I might have actually mistaken him for Felipe Reyes. He shared the same proud nose, perpetually furrowed brow, and lines etched deep into his forehead that say he’s had someone important to worry about for a very long time. Who was this Varga’s someone?

More heated now, Señor Varga points to the building and I think I can make out the words 'vuelve ahí dentro' coming out of his mouth. Exasperated, the younger, short-haired man throws his hands on his hips and tips his head back, as if pleading with the sky but whatever the old man has said trumps his silent negotiation with the Above. Varga throws him a set of keys and shoos him in the direction of the shop before stalking off back to the garage.

It takes me too long to realize I am staring. The short-haired guy makes it to the sidewalk in front of the windows, but by then it is too late to play it off like I’m just a clueless customer. Swinging my purse from one shoulder to the other, I attempt to anyway, and turn to examine the fabric swatches hanging on the walls and the stand full of pamphlets about “The Wonders of Kaptex!” and “Chrome-Tanned Whole Cowhides!” leafing through as if I know what I am looking at. The look of confusion on my face is the only honest thing about it. I have no idea what I am doing here, in more ways than one.

The short-haired man walks in, sighing heavily as the broken bell claps against the door handle, making another pitiful, pinched sound. It is not until he turns around to put something in the register that I finally see the name on his uniform. I. Varga.

Qué se chinga, of course there is two of them. Of course.

I nearly tear the cigarette box yanking it out of my pocket to study it again in the hopes I have missed some detail, some clue Angel might have left to differentiate the two Vargas. But no. There it sits, staring back at me, the same phrase I’ve read repeatedly, over and over and over: Ask 4 grumpyass mf named Varga. The qualifier doesn’t even help. They both seem equally grumpy. Could I just ask? Would Angel or Manny have thought ahead to let this Varga know I was coming?

A voice cuts through my panic. “‘Scuse me, miss? Something I can help you with?”

My head snaps up to meet a look of cool intensity from the younger Varga. He was younger sure, but I couldn’t venture a guess as to how old he might really be because even asking the most mundane of questions, there is something heavy in the tone of his voice and a weariness in his eyes that betray the gaze of a boy aged beyond his years by forces out of his control. I know this look. I am well acquainted with this look, yes. The headlights in the rearview mirror on the drive here flash in my mind. But there is a softness in this one’s eyes that I don’t remember EZ having. Not even in the beginning. By the time I finally understood, it would do me no good, but everything about Ezekiel Reyes was hard. And always had been.

All of a sudden, I am self-conscious, unsure of how long I’ve been standing there, not saying a word in response. Taking a deep breath, I finally open my mouth to answer, but instead of words, what comes out is some kind of throttled sigh.

“Prefieres que hablamos en español?” He is polite but with enough of an edge of impatience that it does nothing to distinguish him as the less grumpy of the two Vargas.

“A mí no me importa,” I shrug, trying my best to seem casual. “Puedo hablar de los dos.”

“O sí? Pues la podría preguntarte de nuevo pero ya sabrás que es la misma en ambos.”

Maybe this Varga is more prickly than grumpy. Would Angel know the difference? Probably not.

“Hmm,” I hum. He seems skeptical, so I switch to English. Two can play this game. “Huh? Yes. Yeah. Actually yes. I need- I’m looking for someone na—“ I start heading toward the counter but in the process, my purse swings to one side, knocking over the wire display of pamphlets. Varga is nice enough to come around from the counter to help me pick them up off the ground, even if he is chuckling to himself at my expense.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what-” I pause, closing my eyes, searching for the words. “I have not slept much. I just came here all the way from California and did not make many stops.”

Varga picks up the last of the pamphlets and with a resigned smirk on his face, offers his hand. “Ah, well, you wouldn’t be the only person to end up in ABQ who’s running from something.” I accept and he pulls me to my feet.

On his way back around the counter, he shoots me the look of a parent worried their kid is going to tear through the candy aisle at the grocery store. Pointing to a technicolor display of stacked, neatly wrapped, little trees, I laugh. “Oh, not the car fresheners. It looks like someone went to a lot of trouble to make these look nice,” I tease, holding up my hands in defeat. “I’ll keep my distance.”

Varga shakes his head, suppressing a laugh like he doesn’t want me to know I have said anything he’d find funny. He resumes doing whatever he was doing at the register. Not sure what to do with myself, I just stand there, watching him, moving the cash trays to the back counter, industriously counting the bills, scribbling in some kind of ledger. Without turning to look at me, he calls out, “So, you were saying?”

“Sorry?”

“You were about to say you were looking for someone right before you decided to go full Jenga with my pamphlets over there.”

“Oh,” I blow a puff of hair out of my lips, sending stray pieces of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail floating above my forehead. Glancing around the empty store, something in me snaps and I decide. Why not? What is the worst that could happen? I say the wrong thing to the wrong person and they kill me for it? They’d have to get in line. I am already on borrowed time and dancing around the issue might only serve to end that time. Entonces a la verga con esa chingadera. So I shoot my shot. The contact my hand makes as it smacks down on the counter with the mangled cigarette box is loud enough to surprise Varga. He stops and spins around.

“Alright, I have danced with death,” I hold my index finger and thumb up together and squint my eyes, “once this week already. I have also been driving for two days straight. I am exhausted. And you know what? Truthfully, I have never been good at this– hmm, what is it called? Playing my cards close to the chest? I never had to be. So, I'm going to come right out and say it. My name is Gaby Castillo. I came here from Lodi, California. My ex-boyfriend is EZ Reyes from the Santo Padre chapter of the Mayans motorcycle club. Two days ago,” the lump in my throat hurts as I swallow it, but still choke up despite myself, “he tried to kill me. His brother, Angel Reyes, told me to lie low here in case he tried to come after me again.”

Instead of the appropriate shock one would express at the stream of insanity I just blurted out to a perfect stranger, he seems entirely undisturbed. Just as I'm about to give over to reassurance at his calmness, it all at once becomes more jarring that he has no reaction. My heart kicks up, pounding so rapidly, I wonder if it’s visible from the outside, if he can see it's picked up speed.

Aggravated by the silence, I snap my fingers in front of his face, grumbling, “Uh, hello? Does any of this sound familiar?”

Face impassive, he crosses his arms and just keeps staring at me before finally breaking the silence with one infuriating word. “Vest.”

“Mm? Pardon?”

“You said chest. You meant vest.”

He is like a brick wall. I am still not getting it.

“You meant vest. You said,” he flattens his hand bringing it down to punctuate the end of each phrase, “‘playing your cards close to the chest.’ The expression is ‘playing your cards close to the vest.’ Like back in the day, old guys playing Poker in saloons and shit.”

How dumb must I look, standing there, eyes narrowed, mouth gaping open in disbelief that we are calmly discussing grammar after everything I said? The motorcycle club? The attempted murder? I can only imagine. He does not even seem to notice. What’s more infuriating, he turns back around to the money trays and the ledger and continues talking at me like that. “Yeah, yeah, I got a call from Manny, told me someone was coming. I remember those Reyes brothers too. One of them’s a wiseass and one of them’s a dipstick. Which one almost killed you?”

Poor Angel. My cheeks are burning and my chest floods with indignation on his behalf. “Angel is not a di–” the word is new to me and comes out of my mouth clumsy, “dip-ssstick.”

Varga’s shoulders rattle as he chuckles, “So it was the dipstick,” nodding to himself like he’s just shared some private joke that he happens to also find hilarious.

I roll my eyes and turn my back to him so I can lean against the counter. My head sinks back to look at the ceiling and now I’m the one who’s pleading with the sky. “No, it wasn’t the d– no, not Angel. He’s the one who saved me, told me to come here for help. Not that I would call,” I wave my hand around at nothing in particular, “whatever this has been, 'help.'”

Varga says nothing, so I continue. “No, it was the other one. Ezekiel. EZ. He’s the one who– well.” I stop, my thoughts invaded again by Ezekiel's eyes in the headlights, this time mixed with flashes of that night on the beach. How soft and gentle his fingertips were on my shoulders. How cold the barrel of his gun felt pressed into my side. Tears begin streaking from the corners of my eyes. With my head back like that, they drip down across my temples and into my hairline.

Another pair of fingertips gently brushes my shoulder. I jerk forward violently and turn around to see Varga on the other side of the counter, with his hands up, as if to say, 'oh god, don’t shoot.'

“Hey, look. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so— such a dick. I forget what it’s like for people not—” he wavers, running his hand up and down the back of his head, searching for the words, “well, normal people. People not in our business.”

I scoff, "Normal. That's funny, normal."

He looks at me perplexed, waiting for me to clarify. But I can't even begin. So, staring at the air fresheners almost catatonic, I simply say, "Normal is not what I feel."

Varga seems to accept this well enough because he starts putting the cash trays back in the register and locks them up with the ledger. On his way back around the counter, he grabs his car keys and motions for me to follow him. “C’mon.”

He stops at the door once he realizes I am not following him. More speaking to the door than to me, he calls out, “Yo, you coming or what?”

“Coming? Coming where?”

In an oddly graceful gesture, he spins around, arms swinging, coming to rest on his hips, as he tips one out to the side. “You like milkshakes?”

“Do I like—?”

“Milkshakes. Y'know, milk, ice cream, they blend it all up with like chocolate or strawberry or confetti sprinkles or whatever sugary shit people like. How do we feel about them.”

“I mean—” I shrug. “Who doesn’t like milkshakes.”

“Great.” He nods, with a small smile on his face that reaches his eyes for the first time. It softens his otherwise prickly demeanor, exposing a charm so authentic in its self consciousness, it is plain to see he doesn’t smile with true joy often. Something clicks just then and it occurs to me: what if he’s the someone the senior Varga, M. Varga, has had to worry about all these years? He turns back around, grabbing the door handle. “Let’s get a milkshake.”

“Wait.”

I watch his shoulders rise and fall, an unmistakable sigh of frustration. A reaction I immediately resent. “Hey.” I cross my arms. “No mames, hombre. Like it is unreasonable for me to be uncertain about letting a perfect stranger take me to some unknown location, in a town I have never been to before, for a mystery milkshake.”

Turning back around, he strolls slowly over to me, smirking and fiddling with his keys. “Mystery milkshake, huh?"

Still unamused, my eyebrows are halfway up my forehead. I wait.

“Yeah alright, you got me there. But I think I’ve got a solution for that. You said your name's Gaby, right?” I bob my head once and he holds out his hand. “My name’s Nacho.” He seems to take notice of my eyes darting to the name tag on his uniform. “Well, Ignacio, but no one calls me that.” Leaning forward, voice dropping low and quiet, he pleads like it’s a secret. “Yeah, please don’t call me that, seriously.”

I can’t help but smile, accepting his hand. Though firm, it's also warm and softer than I expect, sending goosebumps up my forearm that take me by surprise.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I beam at him, our hands moving up and down in tandem, "Señor Not-Ignacio Varga.”

“Oh good,” he says, smile deflating slightly as he cocks an eyebrow. “Another comedian. Remind me never to introduce you to Lalo.”

It seems I’m already treading dangerous ground, but that only makes me beam at him more. “Who is Lalo? And why should you never to introduce us?”

“Pues,” he looks me up and down, assessing me before rolling his eyes, “hay muchas razones pero la primera? Eres demasiado guapa y chistosa para conocer a un hombre peligroso así. But he’d sure think you’re— I dunno, something.”

O, demasiado guapa? Nacho is becoming more interesting by the minute. “Hmm, well–," I muse as he turns to open the door. "And what does Not-Ignacio think?”

He shoots me a look like don’t go there through half lidded eyes. It is the first time I notice how long his eyelashes are. Tú eres guapísimo también. He seems like the type to not really know it. Or at least, the type to be unconcerned with it anyway. Of course it’s just a hunch, but for some reason it warms me to him even more. Nothing like the Reyes boys. Well, except Felipe, who had never seemed especially preoccupied with his appearance.

“Okay, okay,” I put my hands up, “last time, I swear. So, what does Nacho think?”

“I think...” he takes a long pause while holding the door open for me, scratching his head like he is considering the question with genuine sincerity. “I think ..... thaaat it’s time for a milkshake.”

Stepping outside into the simmering Albuquerque sun, it is my turn to roll my eyes. But for some reason, I decide to up the anti by crinkling my nose and sticking my tongue out at him like a petulant child. Maybe it’s the sleeplessness, or maybe it’s just nice to talk to someone after 3 days of running. On the road alone. He laughs at me, letting the door slam shut, and waves me over, in the direction of his car.

Despite my pretend annoyance, I walk around to the passenger’s side of Nacho Varga’s car and a feeling hits me as suddenly as a flashbulb of an old camera: relief. For the first time since I left Lodi, I finally feel like I just might be okay.

As it turns out, I am right. I would be okay. Just not before all hell breaks loose.

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taglist: @narcolini

#Gabrielle Castillo x Ignacio “Nacho” Varga #gaby castillo #nacho varga #better call saul #mayans mc #crossover AU pairing #rarepairs exchange 2023 #shockingly not narcos mexico #ignacio nacho varga #yoyoyo #148- 3 to the 3 #to the 6 to the 9 #representing the ABQ #whaaaddup biatc????#leave it at the tone

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