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flightlessangelwings · 7 months

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Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism

Bishop Losa x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, public sex, hint at a bj,dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, reader wears short shorts and a low cut top, no use of y/n

Notes- I had SO much fun writing this one y'all have no idea! And it was something a little different for me too! Prompt list made by me. Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

“Nice shot, baby,” Bishop purred as you sank another ball in the net.

The two of you played pool in the clubhouse while everyone else gathered and drank and laughed. Angel and Coco played darts in the corner, and they squabled like siblings when each thought the other was losing. Visitors from other chapters of the Mayans filled the clubhouse, and everyone was having a great time.

But all Bishop could focus on was you. How sexy you looked when you bent over the pool table to take your shot. How your brow furrowed in concentration, your determination to beat him apparent on your face. How your breasts started to spill out of your top. How your shorts were just short enough to show a little hint of asscheck, something Bishop always loved.

Vaguely, you were aware of Bishop's heavy gaze on you, but you were too focused on your shot to put your full attention to. You cursed under your breath when you missed your next shot, but when you turned to him next to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Sweat lined your brow, and it wasn’t just from the heat inside the space.

Bishop eyed you up and down with a smirk on his face, “Baby you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you care about a stupid game of pool like that,” his tone was low as he sauntered towards you, closing the space between your bodies and settling slightly behind you.

“Bish,” you couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped your lips as he caressed your hips and pressed his body against yours. But, as he grasped your ass, giving it a little smack, you let out a low moan that would have caught the attention of anyone nearby if it weren’t for a roar of laughter that erupted at the same time.

“I bet I could fuck you with my fucking fingers right here and no one would notice,” Bishop groaned into your ear as he nibbled on your neck and a hand dripped under the hem of your shorts.

“You what?!” you were caught off guard by his words. But, as he tickled your pussy every so slightly, you found any care you might have had vanished.

“Do you want me to, baby?” Bishop purred, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers right here? Let anyone who might notice see you cum on my fuckin’ fingers?”

If you said the word, Bishop would pull away, albeit he would definitely take you into a closet or bathroom and fuck you in private instead. You felt his hardening cock against your thigh and you let out another moan. The room spun as you thought it over, “I want you to,” you finally whispered as you turned your head and kissed him deeply.

“Let me hear you say it, sweetheart,” he murmured as he bucked his hips against your body and sank his hand lower into your shorts, feeling the warmth of your cunt under his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers… Right here,” your tone was low and sultry and dripped with need, “And let anyone watch as you make me cum.”

“That’s my girl,” Bishop growled as he suddenly dove two fingers into your pussy.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and lurched forward to grab onto the pool table for balance. Bishop stayed close, using his body to support you from behind as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck baby… So wet for me.”

All you could do was moan as your body quickly warmed from his touch.

Bishop wrapped his other arm around your body and cupped at your breast through your shirt, rubbing at your nipple through the fabric, “Does it turn you on, sweetheart?” he asked in a deep voice, “That anyone could look over and see you like this?”

“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, “Anyone could look over here and see how fucking sexy you look like this,” he thrust his fingers more roughly into you, hitting spots deep inside you, “But they can only see your face, baby… This fucking pussy,” he gave another harsh thrust, “Is mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned as you saw stars. You gripped the table so hard you almost felt like it could break under your grasp, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about anything else other than how good Bishop fucked you with his fingers, and how much you craved your release.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop praised as his rubbed your clit with his thumb, “So fuckin’ good taking my fingers right here in the fucking clubhouse.”

“Bish…”

Suddenly he froze. When you let out a whine, he murmured your name, “Looks like we caught someone’s attention, baby.”

You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, noticing a prospect from the other chapter across the room. His eyes bore into you and his thoughts were easy to read from the look on his face. His jaw clenched and he had a grip on his beer bottle so tight that he might shatter at any second.

“Why don’t we give him a show?” you purred as you turned and gave Bishop a heated kiss.

“I fucking love you, baby,” Bishop chased your lips when you broke away and kissed you once more before he started thrusting his fingers into you once more.

You moaned loudly against his lips as you rested your head on his shoulder, surrendering yourself to the Mayan completely. Your mind swam as you felt your orgasm quickly build from Bishop hitting your sweet spot over and over again while his thumb grazed your clit.

“He can watch, baby,” Bishop growled as he picked up his pace, “But he can’t have you,” his tone dropped as his grip on you tightened, “You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me,” Bishop groaned as he felt your inner muscles clench around his fingers, “Show that fucking prospect what he can’t have.”

With that, you came hard with a scream. Your entire body trembled as you fought to keep yourself upright against the pool table, and you felt yourself gush onto Bishop’s fingers. He talked you through your climax, mumbling praises and curses in your ear as you rode out your high on his fingers.

The only reason no one else noticed was because the prospect snapped his beer bottle in his head the moment you screamed, and everyone else was too busy watching him to notice what you and Bishop were up to on the other side of the room. Some of the others cursed and berated the prospect, but a fierce look from Bishop kept him quiet about why he suddenly caused a scene.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop cooed your ear in a softer tone as he pulled out of you, “So fucking sexy,” he added as he turned you to face him and made you watch as he licked his fingers clean, “And delicious too.”

“Bish!” you playfully chastised him with a light smack on his shoulder as your face felt hot, “That was really hot, though,” you admitted as you shimmied your shoulders softly and placed your hands on his chest, “How about I return the favor?” your tone dropped as you slowly sank to your knees, “Right fucking here.”

Bishop’s eyes went wide and a pulse of need shot through his veins, “Baby, I fuckin’ love you,” he blurted out as he readied himself for your mouth.

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Disaster Dates: Movie Night

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Disaster Dates Masterlist

Prompt from This Post: Person A and Person B go to see a movie together but they both end up really not enjoying the film

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: So, truthfully, if it weren't for @withmyteeth this series wouldn't be a thing at all whatsoever. But she funneled this particular idea directly into my brain this time last year when I was first starting to go through all of the prompts. So as always, shout-out to the other half of my brain. 💖

Bishop Losa Taglist: @just1bri @thesandbeneathmytoes @kelpies-shed @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @lollypops-and-candycaneschibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @fanfic-n-tabulous @littlekittymeow @buckybarneshairpullingkink @mijagif @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @anditsmywholeheart @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @nessamc @crowfootwrites @artemiseamoon @amorestevens @justazzi @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The movie had been his idea in the first place, and now he was regretting everything about the suggestion. He didn’t even particularly like going to the movies. You knew that, too, which is why in the few dates that the two of you had gone on, it had never been something you suggested. He liked that you tried to be accommodating, but he also knew that you loved going to the movies. Long before he’d ever bucked up and asked you out, he would constantly hear you talking to Gilly and Coco about whatever movies you’d gone to see over the last few weeks.

So he figured that this time around, he would do something that you wanted to do. After all, that’s how the whole dating thing was supposed to work, right? And besides, it wasn’t as though he hated the movies. It just wasn’t something he ever went out of his way to do. But maybe it’d be different with you. Everything else seemed to be, so why not this?

He should’ve just stuck to what he knew.

Or, he should’ve let you pick the movie. Should’ve insisted on it. Because when he pitched the idea, his initial thought was that he would just let you pick whatever movie you had been wanting to see next and taking care of the tickets. And the popcorn, because you insisted that no movie experience is complete without popcorn. But since he was actually going to try out the whole movie theater thing, you thought it was only fair that he also got to pick the movie. After all, you didn’t want to end up picking a movie that you wanted to see and he ended up hating.

You should’ve gone for it, though. At least then one of you would’ve enjoyed the movie. At least then, maybe, you’d have a shot at getting Bishop to come back to the movies with you again in the future. But, from the look on his face when you glanced over at him a few times throughout the film, you didn’t think that that was going to be happening.

Meanwhile, Bishop was wondering if he really just hated movies that much, or if he just had the unfortunate bad luck of picking one that was terrible. He had to assume it was the latter—there was no way that you would make a point to put yourself through this on a regular basis, no way you would keep coming back for more. He kept stealing looks at you throughout, hoping to try and get a better idea of where you were at. Your expression was painfully neutral, though, and he couldn’t help but to think that that didn’t bode well. You were someone who wore their feelings clear on their face, good or bad. So the indifference he saw on you must’ve been your attempt at being polite. He just wanted to sink into the floor.

There was a moment, when the two of you were about forty minutes into the movie (although Bishop swore it felt like the two of you had been there for hours already), when he was about to just lean over and ask you if you wanted to get up and leave. It was definitely an option. The theater already got their money—it wasn’t like a bouncer was going to show up and stop the two of you from leaving. The mental image of that was more entertaining than anything in the film the two of you had paid for.

He desperately wanted out. Hell, at that point he would settle for buying a second set of tickets to something that you would actually want to see. Anything that gave him a shot of not being in the theater anymore. You hadn’t said anything to him, though, and that put the tiniest bit of fear in the back of his mind that he had been misreading the entire thing. One bad film and suddenly he felt like he was back in high school again, going to put his arm around a cute girl and getting curved in the process. It was the same level of embarrassment, one that he had hoped to go the rest of his life avoiding.

The screen finally faded to black and the credits started to roll. Most of Bishop was relieved, just glad that the entire shitshow was over with. But, when the lights started to come up, the relief was quickly replaced with a feeling of dread at the fact that he was going to have to look at you after that entire experience and try to figure out if he was supposed to be pretending he hadn’t just spent the last two hours wanting to gouge his own eyes out, or having to try and convince you that despite how atrocious this experience was, continuing to date him wouldn’t be so horrible. He wasn’t ready to try and scan your face and make that game-time decision, so he looked at the screen for a little longer to try and buy some more time.

Unlike Bishop, you were already staring at him. You knew how he felt about it—there were no guessing games there. The most surprising thing to you was that he hadn’t already shot up out of his seat, grabbed your hand, and dragged you from the theater. You also couldn’t believe that he hadn’t asked to leave earlier. You were curious as to what his next move was going to be.

You grabbed your bag off the floor and pulled it up onto your lap with the bucket of popcorn, which was one of the only redeemable qualities of the last few hours. Raising your eyebrows, you continued to wait for him to look over at you. It was really only a small handful of seconds, but it felt like much longer given the state of everything.

Finally, you decided to break the silence. “Waiting to see if there’s an end-credit scene?” you joked.

That got him to finally turn and look at you. “A what?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Some movies put clips at the end of the credits.” You paused, trying not to be too amused at the bewildered look on his face. “I doubt this one will, though.”

“You don’t…do you wanna stay and find out?” It sounded like it physically pained him to say the words.

You found that to be a little endearing, to say the least. You shook your head as you stood up from your seat. “Fuck no.”

His entire body visibly relaxed in his seat for a moment as he let out a sigh of relief. Setting his hands on the armrests on either side of him, he pushed himself up out of the chair. Looking over at you, he cracked the smallest smile, but the first one you’d seen since the lights went down in the theater. “Thank god.”

You shook your head as you laughed, hugging the nearly-empty tub of popcorn to your chest. “Come on, this already took more years off my lifespan than it was worth.”

The two of you walked down the steps of the movie theater and made your way towards the door. Bishop walked beside you, trying to figure out the best way to come out and ask a very blunt question. “So that…that was bad, right? That was a fucking bad movie?”

You burst out laughing, nodding as he pushed the theater door open for you. “Yes, that was a bad fucking movie.”

“Fuck.” He let out a laugh that sounded more relieved than anything. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

You looked over at him with a small smile on your face. “Oh yea?”

“Yea. Because if that’s just how movies are, I would have to ask you what’s wrong with you and why you would spend so much time putting yourself through that.”

You playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to leave, then?”

“Because you didn’t say that it was fucking bad!” he replied as he laughed in disbelief.

“I didn’t want to shit all over your movie choice!” You were laughing so hard now that you had to actually focus on not dropping the bucket in your arms. “I was trying to figure out if I was going to keep dating someone who just had horrendous taste in movies. I was really weighing the pros and cons of that.”

“Were you?” he asked as he dug out the keys to his car.

“Yea, I was. That, and, come on, Bishop, you have yet to keep your mouth shut when you don’t like something. Why would I think that changed because of this? Something that you don’t even really like doing?”

He wanted to have a good argument for that, but the truth was that he didn’t. He’d never been all that great at biting his tongue or sugar-coating things, something that was most certainly a common thread in conflicts with him in past relationships. He supposed that he couldn’t blame you for thinking that if it was something that was really bothering him, he’d say something.

“Fine,” he finally conceded as you both reached the car. “I guess that makes sense.” He paused, watching as you walked over to the passenger side door. There was a smile tugging at his lips as he asked, “You’re really bringing that home?”

“Um, yea?” you replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I told you, Bishop, popcorn is like an integral part of the movie experience.” You paused. “Even if the movie sucks.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Get in the car.” When you were both situated and buckled in, he turned and asked you, “Your place or mine?”

“Gonna let me make all the decisions for awhile?” you asked with a soft chuckled. When he just nodded in reply, you thought about your answer. “Mine.” There was a flicker of disappointment across his face that you couldn’t help but to notice, so you added onto your statement. “You should stay over though…if you can.”

“Yea?”

You nodded. “Yea. Besides,” you shimmied a bit to try and get more comfortable in your seat, “maybe then I can pick a move that the both of us will actually enjoy.”

“The bar is on the fucking floor, sweetheart, so I think we’ll be alright.”

In the relatively short amount of time that the two of you had been dating, you definitely spent more time over at Bishop’s place than he spent at yours. You never really stopped to question why that was—it wasn’t as though he ever seemed opposed to coming over to your apartment. Things usually just played out and ended up with you at his place.

Despite that being the case, he seemed relatively comfortable and at-home as the two of you started to settle in for the evening. You were both camped out on the couch. He was tucked into the corner of it, leaning against the arm of the sofa while you were leaning against him, your arm draped across his middle while your head rested against the side of his chest. You felt each breath he took in and out, and there was something soothing about it.

True to your word, you had chosen another movie to watch. You picked something that didn’t require a heavy mental and emotional investment, knowing that both you and Bishop were still a bit spent from the entire debacle earlier, plus now it was starting to get a bit late. Even so, you still found yourself paying pretty good attention. The few times you glanced up at Bishop, it seemed like he was actually enjoying himself a fair bit as well. Even though, like he said, the bar was on the floor.

Both of you had been silent for a while during the movie when you spoke up with another quick, offhand comment about it. “You know what’s funny?” you asked as you glanced up at him.

You chuckled softly when you realized that you weren’t going to be getting an answer from him about it. He still had one arm looped around you as he sat nestled into the corner of the couch. However, his head was now tilted back slightly and resting against the back of the couch. His eyes were shut, and when you listened closely, you could hear that he was just on the brink of starting to snore.

You hummed in quiet amusement to no one other than yourself as you settled a little more against his side. Maybe it was true that Bishop just wasn’t the kind of guy who was cut out to be a big movie person. There were worse things in the world.

Plus, you had to admit that it was nice that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep like that. He hadn’t even done that during the times when you went over to his—you were almost always the first one to fall asleep. You took the small win for what it was. At least this time around you had a comfortable pillow while you finished your movie.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x you #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #disaster date series #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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ficnation · 9 months

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The Heart Wants What It Wants

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

Summary: This set of short stories explores individual Mayans' love journeys, following the characters as they discover, pursue, and grow their relationship with you.

!moodboards made by me!

Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter

Chapter 2: A Sweet Connection

Chapter 1: Untitled

Chapter 2: Untitled

Chapter 1: Untitled

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ravennaortiz · 2 months

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Okay next request I've got is a list for Bishop. Time to show the Pres some love. Alright I've got the following prompts for Bishop:

22. Make me.

27. What if someone sees?

25. Don't act shy now.

29. Give me attention.

30. I need you.

32. Your mine.

38. Beg.

Yas! The Pres does need some love! Alright lets work some magic for Bishop shall we? As always 18+.

"Bish" you whispered as you nudged the sleeping mans leg with your own. "Hmm" he grunted as he stirred slightly. "Get up so we can go home and sleep babe" you replied as you shook your head at him. "Make me" he growled as he playfully grabbed at your arm pulling you down on top of him. "I don't think I can carry you out of here" you laughed as he kissed your forehead as his hands wound down your sides making you shiver at the feel.

"So pretty" murmured Bishop as you felt his hands start to lift the hem of your dress and knead at the flesh of your ass. "Were in the clubhouse" you murmured as you smacked his hands away making him grin. "And? I'm the Presidente. I can do what i want" he replied as he moved his hands back under your dress as he lifted his hips to grind against you. You closed your eyes as you bit back a moan at the feel of his tented jeans pressing into you. Bishop sat up some mouthing one of your hardened nipples through your dress sending a jolt through your body.

"What if someone walks in and sees" you questioned as one of his hands trailed between the two of your caressing your wet heat gently. "Don't act all shy with me now" mumbled Bishop as he laid you back on the couch keeping himself between your thighs as he kissed your neck. "Weren't you the one sending me pictures. Saying you wanted my attention while I was in Templo. Doing naughty things?" he growled as he hooked his fingers around the thin material of your panties and tugged hard ripping them from your body.

"Bishop" you moaned into his chest as he pushed two fingers into your core curling them up into that sweet spot. Bishop grinned as he kept up his pace as he felt your clench around his fingers. "You like that?" he whispered into your ear as he sped up some making you whimper as you squirmed under him.

"I'm going" you started as you felt that familiar coil in your lower abdomen. "Not yet" stated Bishop as he yanked his fingers out of you before you tipped over the edge. "I need you" you whined as you grabbed for his hand to move it back. Bishop chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand and undid his belt and jeans with the other. "I know you do Querida" he murmured as he caressed your cheek before standing up and stepping out of his jeans and boxers.

As he got back on top of you he grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down exposing your breast to the cool air. "You mine. All mine no one elses" he murmured as he trailed the head of his cock through your slick folds. "All yours" you whispered as you raised your hips forcing him in more. "Naughty girl" murmured Bishop as he pulled all of the way out and moved to grab your throat to pin you down. "Remember. I'm in charge. You want it? You beg." stated Bishop as he squeezed your throat gently making you moan.

"Please. Bishop please fuck me" you whined as you let his lust filled gaze. Bishop wasted no time in burying himself deeply into you. Slamming his hips into your in rapid strokes as he thumbed that sensitive bundle of nerves taking you over the edge in mere minutes. You were still riding the last remnants of your own orgasm when he let out a final growl and poured his own release out before collapsing onto you on the couch.

"Home for round two old man?" you inquired making him laugh.

Want more Bishop? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

#ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans smut #bishop losa smut #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #obispo bishop losa #bishop mayans

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fanficimagery · 2 years

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Angel’s Reina

The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.

For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.

But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.

And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.

It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.

Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.

When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.

After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.

They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.

The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.

Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.

Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.

Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.

"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"

Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.

"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."

Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.

With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"

The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"

"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"

"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.

You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.

When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."

"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."

"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.

"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."

Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.

"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."

"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."

"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."

"Not until Ima's involved."

"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."

"And what's that, querida?"

You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."

"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.

Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."

"De nada."

Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"

You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"

"Over the moon."

You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"

"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.

Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"

"No!"

"Uh, what case, 'mano?"

"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."

"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"

"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"

"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."

Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."

"Love you too, sis."

As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"

Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."

Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."

"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."

EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."

Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."

"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."

Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."

. .

As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.

"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"

Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."

"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."

You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."

"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"

"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."

"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.

You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."

"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."

"Oh I am," she muses.

Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.

"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.

"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.

"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.

"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.

You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."

"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.

"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.

Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.

"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.

"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.

You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.

"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."

"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.

"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."

You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.

You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.

And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.

The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.

From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.

As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.

"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"

"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."

"Hot guys? What hot guys?"

"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."

Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."

"Will do."

When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.

The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.

Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"

"Holy shit! YN?"

Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"

"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"

Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."

"Thank you, Obispo."

Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.

"Yeah. Of course."

You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.

"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.

"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."

You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.

"Shut it," you mumble.

Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."

Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.

"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.

You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."

He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.

The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.

Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.

The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.

"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."

"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."

"What changed?" Bishop wonders.

"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."

The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."

Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."

Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.

"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"

"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"

"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."

The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"

Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.

"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.

"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.

Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.

"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.

Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."

"You're on, vato."

"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."

Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"

"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."

Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."

"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."

Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."

Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."

Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."

As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.

. .

Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.

As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."

Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"

"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."

"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."

"What's her deal?"

"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."

"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"

"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."

Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"

"Mhm," you hum.

Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.

"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.

Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"

"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.

Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."

From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"

As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.

You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.

By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"You need sleep."

Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.

But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."

Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."

A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."

"Is that right?" Angel gulps.

"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."

His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."

As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.

As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.

Happy Halloween indeed.

#angel reyes x reader #soa gen fic x reader #mayans gen fic x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #jax teller #angel reyes #obispo losa #bishop losa #sons of anarchy #soa #mayans #mayans mc

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obsessedasusual · 5 months

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Lonely No More - Eight

Bishop Losa x OC Series

Summary: There was never a dull moment, being the only Reyes sister. But between overbearing brothers, being the family peacekeeper, and countless disaster dates, Amalia finds herself wishing she had someone to unwind with after a hectic day. Funnily enough, Bishop Losa wishes for the same thing.

Warnings: swearing, feels, everything MC related really

Note: -2k hellloooooo!!!! When I tell you I have had the first half of this written since my last bloody upload I’m not kidding🫣🫣 I won’t try to defend myself, I’ll just leave this for you to chew on byeeeeee

It had been four days since the incident, as Amalia was now calling it.

Four days and she hadn’t heard from Bishop. She hadn’t been running past his house as usual, she had however heard a Harley ride past each morning and night. It seemed Bishop wasn’t swaying from his usual route to the club, just deciding to not stop in.

No texting, no calling, no notes.

Radio silence.

She had also been avoiding her brothers, which wasn’t hard. Angel had tried to call her once which she had ignored, instead flicking a text his way saying, sorry busy with work, will call you back, she hadn’t, and he hadn’t tried again.

She even turned the other way when she almost ran into Gilly at the grocery store the day prior. Instead pushing her cart down the aisle of baby bottles and nappies. She was sure she’d successfully dodged him and he hadn’t seen her. He had, but figured she wasn’t in the mood to talk and let her be.

Her mind was stuck on that night, replaying it over and over. It was obviously a mistake. Had to have been. There was no way he had meant to kiss her.

Her friend Zoe had been let in on the secret when she came knocking, worried about her best friend’s sudden dazed mood. Well… Zoe had been let in on how she had made out with a guy and it was great, amazing, fantastic but it was bad, terrible, never should have happened. The fact that the ‘guy’ was a slightly older President of a fucking outlaw club was conveniently left out.

“You can’t be this torn up over a kiss and not give me any details!” Zoe had pouted over a cup of coffee.

Amalia paced the length of her dining table, hands on her forehead in frustration, “it’s not the kiss that’s the issue! Well, okay it’s kind of the kiss but it’s more to do with who the kiss was with!”

“Which was who?”

“I… I can’t say,” Amalia sighed, “it was just with someone it really shouldn’t have been with and now he won’t talk to me and I don’t know what this means or what happens from here. Do I just ignore it too? What if I see him around? I mean, I’m definitely gonna see him around this town is only so big-“

“So he’s a local?”

“And if my brothers ever found out Jesus Christ they would have my head on a platter. They’d kill me! They would actually kill me. They’d never speak to me again-“

“I’m sure they’d be okay with it-“

“Ha! Okay with it? You don’t know my brothers, they’d hit the roof. Angel especially, oh shit Angel-“

“Okay! A! You need to stop and take a breather, seriously. Just talk to me. We can talk it out and work out what to do.” Zoe stood from her seat, gently touching Amalia’s arm and steering her toward a chair.

“Take a breath. Okay, why is this freaking you out so much?”

Amalia looked from her friend to the ground, “I shouldn’t be involved with him.”

“Could you tell me why? If you like him and he likes you-“

“He doesn’t like me, Zo,” she interrupted, mumbling slightly, “It was just a caught in the moment sort of thing. And, even if he did. We couldn’t be involved.”

Zoe sighed, “You’ve said that, but why?”

“It’s… complicated.” The Reyes sister was right. It was complicated.

“Is he a friend of Angel’s?” If she wasn’t going to give straight answers, Zoe was going to start guessing.

Instead of answering, Amalia hesitated before nodding slowly. A friend… kind of. His boss. His President.

“You said he wouldn’t talk to you, have you tried calling him?” Zoe suggested causing Amalia to look down and shake her head.

Zoe continued, “Maybe you should? A simple phone call and this could all be fixed.”

Amalia rested her forehead against her clasped hands and sighed heavily, barely listening to her friend.

“It’ll get sorted out, A. It’ll be okay.”

Four days on, and it still had yet to be “sorted out”.

Had she tried to call him?

No.

Had he tried to call her?

Also no.

That shouldn’t have been cause for concern. Afterall, they’d had many days go by without a phone call before. But that was before. Before everything turned to shit in Amalia’s mind.

Her mind decided to torture her each night when she attempted to get a full night’s rest, teasing her with made up images of Bishop with another woman on his lap at a club party. Quite happily lapping up the attention.

She was sure that wasn’t the case, and even if it was, so what? He could do as he wanted. He was a single man. He could hook up with whoever he wanted. So why did the thought fill the brunette with so much dread?

Another sleepless night eventually led to morning and Amalia dragged herself out of bed, begrudgingly threw on an office appropriate outfit, washed her face and took a deep breath to ready herself for another day of seemingly meaningless work.

The day passed slowly. Send an email, answer a call, read an email, stare blankly at a report that was due tomorrow, wonder why James from sales insisted on hitting ‘reply all’ on an all company email for his reply of:

Thanks,

James.

Her mind numbing train of thought was gratefully interrupted by the short vibration of her phone, the contact on screen reading, Angel

Heads up if you see pop, he’s in a pissy mood.

Relevant enough to not be suspicious, but Amalia knew her brother well enough to know this was an attempt to break the wall of silence she had put between them.

Same with Ez.

Came a second text. Amalia typed out her reply.

Any particular reason?

Dunno. Come to the club later.

Amalia internally groaned. The freaking club. Why couldn’t he suggest his place like a normal brother?

Not in much of a party mood.

Chill. I meant to talk to your little brother.

Oh. Well, stopping by EZ’s trailer was out of the way of the club.. kind of. She could probably be in and out without raising the attention of the President. And if her brother needed her, that had to take priority, right?

Fine. Be there after work.

Amalia’s stomach was in knots as she drew closer to the club.

‘Sneak in, sneak out, you’ll be fine.’ She kept reminding herself.

If she saw Bishop she had a plan; hold her head high and carry on like the mature adult she was.

Putting her car in park, she gripped her steering wheel and drew a deep breath.

Get out of the car, she thought to herself, get out and beeline for the trailer.

She did just that.

Walking as light on her feet as she could without looking like she was guilty of something to draw as little attention as possible, she kept her head down and made her play straight for the trailer.

Chucky spotted her from the office window and waved out excitedly, she waved back, but apart from the likeable oddball, it seemed there was no one else around.

Good.

It was quiet around EZ’s trailer, as it usually is. Amalia hoped it meant he was tucked up inside minding his own business and not with the guys in the clubhouse.

“EZ!” She called as she approached the door, tapping twice, “You in here?”

She could hear a rustling coming from inside along with a muffled, “Just a sec!”

More rustling followed before finally the small door swung open to reveal the smiling younger brother.

“Hey, A. What’s up?” EZ leaned out the door but didn’t make any move to actually remove himself from his trailer, resulting in him towering over his sister - more than usual.

She gave him a little smile and shrugged, “Just hadn’t seen you around for a bit. Thought I’d check in.”

If EZ wanted to call bullshit he didn’t, instead playfully rolling his eyes, “I’m good, A. Nothing new to report here.”

Amalia knew her brother well enough to know he was lying. But she also knew she couldn’t push him too much, he was like Angel in that way.

She nodded, “Okay well… do you wanna go grab a coffee or something? I could do with a little outing.”

That wasn’t a lie, she could really do with the distraction.

She registered footsteps approaching from behind as EZ replied, “Uh, nah I’m good. Sorry just…” he shrugged, “kinda caught up with something at the moment.”

His smile was forced this time, eyes shooting between her and Angel who had just graced them with his presence. She didn’t acknowledge the oldest brother, attention still on EZ.

“You sure you’re good, EZ?”

Angel piped up, “I heard coffee. I’m down. Be good for some… sibling bonding or some shit.”

Clearly beginning to feel like he was being interrogated, the youngest Reyes pursed his lips and looked between his two siblings.

“What is this?” He started, glaring between them, “Some kind of intervention? You two gossiping about me now?”

While Amalia prepared to defend herself, Angel just shrugged and spoke first, “You’ve been acting weird lately. Pissed all the time. Same with pop. We’re just wondering what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on,” EZ stressed, “God you two need your own lives. Honestly, I’m good. Now if you don’t mind…” he gestured to the trailer, “I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Wait, EZ-“ Amalia was cut off by the door swinging closed, taking her younger brother with it. She turned to Angel, “What was that?”

Angel shrugged and looked at the trailer, “He’s been like that for a few days. Doesn’t say much to me.”

Since their mother’s passing, Amalia had tried really hard not to step into the ‘overbearing mother figure’ role. It wasn’t her job. And her brothers were both adults, she couldn’t expect them to tell her every detail about their lives. But in situations like this, when she could clearly see something wasn’t right, the urge to dig grew stronger.

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Angel nudged her and they began walking back to her car, Amalia noted they were absentmindedly taking the long way, close to the clubhouse.

“Do you think it’s club shit?” She questioned, clocking Angel shaking his head in her peripheral.

“Nah. Things are decent at the moment. I think it’s gotta be something to do with him and Pop.”

Amalia sighed, “And like always, we’re the last to hear about it.”

“Yup.”

While they continued their slow walk toward her car, Amalia could feel eyes on her from afar. Turning her head slightly she found her gaze locked with that of the Mayan President. Gee what a surprise.

She quickly reverted her gaze and let it drop to the ground in front of her. Angel came to a stop and leant against an old fence, Amalia following suit.

“What about you?” Angel questioned. She look at her brother confused before he continued, “Are you okay? Didn’t hear from you for a while. Not like you.”

Amalia took a deep breath and looked around the yard, catching Bishop’s eye again. Neither moved their gaze this time, locked in a staring battle that the Reyes sister was sure to lose, “I’m okay, Angel. Just had some work shit going on. Forgot what a work/life balance was for a second.”

She broke her stare with the President and turned to give her brother a small smile, “I am good, Angel. Promise.”

Liar.

Angel nodded, accepting her answer, “Good. I can’t deal with two fucked up siblings.”

She let out a snort, “Welcome to my life, ‘mano.”

He pushed her and began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “I’m coming for food this week.”

“Only if you use your manners!” She retorted, laughing when he raised his middle finger in farewell.

Her eyes darted the yard once more, again locking with Bishop’s from the porch. Man had a real staring problem apparently.

So he can openly stare at me but can’t send a girl a text?

Again being the first to break eye contact she quickly turned and headed for her car, readying herself to once again hide away and overthink what Bishop’s staring could mean.

#mayans mc #bishop losa x oc #bishop losa fic #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #bring back bishop #bishop losa #obispo losa #mayans mc fic

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dallianceangel · 5 days

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐔𝐩 🐱👅💦

Hope you enjoy reading 😜

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

“If you want me to shut up, you’d better make me shut up,” you practically scream. You've been arguing for over an hour, completely forgetting what you’re actually arguing over, but you’re too fired up to give a shit.

A smirk on his face, Bishop stands up, giving you the opportunity to see the growing bulge in his jeans. He knows you’re probably still pissed off about this morning, when he got called into work early.

“On the table,” he demands. “And spread your legs.”

Doing as he says, he buries his head between your legs, driving you fucking crazy.

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adarafaelbarba · 6 months

Note

Everything that made you great only made you bad

The words stung him more than he wanted to admit. Of course, he knew deep down that what he was doing was seen as bad, it didn't help that you pointed it out, like a sore thorn, being pushed further into the open wound.

Yet he just sat there, taking the verbal lashing you were handing him. Until ... "But you know what the most infuriating thing about all this is? I'm so madly fucking in love with you––I love you Obispo––so fucking much. I can't explain why, I just do." He was completely taken aback by your confession, getting out of his chair and moving to you. "I'll protect you, just please, let me have you." "Bishop Losa––begging––not something you see or hear every day." He was about to say something about your comment when he registered that it was you trying to crack a joke. "I'll beg all day every day if I get to have you in the end."

Tagging:

@crazy4chickennuggets @bullet-prooflove @beccabarba

#my writing #mayans mc #bishop losa #Obispo losa #bishop losa x reader

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narcolini · 1 year

Text

making exceptions

obispo ‘bishop’ losa x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, 2532 words

warnings for descriptions of kidnap, reader in shock

for day 22 of whumpril: sponge bath & ‘lets get you cleaned up’

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas

You wouldn’t call it a relationship, by any means. What you and Bish have is temporary, occasional and conditional, something you give and take as you both please—which isn’t actually that often. A few dates, a few weeks in between. A few nights in his bed. It isn’t anything serious enough to deserve a label, and that suits you, it suits him. You like being single, he likes being unchained. Free to do what he wants. A relationship would come with duties that you both weren’t ready for, so you avoid it all together.

You were naïve to think that by doing that, you’d also avoid all the dangers that came with being connected to a man like him. But the time you’d spent together was already enough to put a target on your head. To make you viable as blackmail material, under the assumption that he cared enough about you for it to work. That they could throw you in the back of livestock trailer and make him do exactly as they said.

They weren’t wrong about the first part, at least, about how much he cared about you. He’d found you before they’d even really begun. Stolen you back, before they could lay a finger on you.

‘Here.’ He takes the keys from you now, because he’s seen you drop them twice already. Hands shaking too much still to get the right one in the lock. ‘I got it.’

You nod, stepping back to let him do it.

He’d brought half the club with him, you think, though you can’t remember who for certain. And you don’t know where you’d even been yourself. They’d put a bag over your head, a gag in your mouth, let you slide around in the straw and dirt of the trailer as they drove. You don’t know how long it was, how far they took you. By the time you were in the truck with Bishop, it all felt like it had happened in minutes.

One moment you were by your car, outside Starbucks, and the next you were bound and blind, wondering if your luck had run out. Praying you’d at least die quickly, if that’s what they were planning to do. The next thing you remember, is Bishop saying your name, his hands on your wrists. A knife through the tape. His voice in the driver’s seat beside you. No idea of the words, you couldn’t focus on that, but just the deep of his voice. The abstract feeling of safety.

It still hasn’t settled into reality. He’s brought you back home, is letting you in to your own place, palm flat on the front door.

‘Come on,’ he prompts, hovering his other hand behind your back. You’ve flinched from him enough times on the ride here that he knows to avoid it now. ‘You’re good.’

You’re home. You’re safe. Grabbing onto the idea feels like trying to catch fish bare-handed, fingers slipping and frantic.

When you’re inside, he shuts the door behind you and twists the lock—you make sure of that, you watch him do it—before hanging your keys onto the usual hook. He looks more at home than you feel right now, dawdling across the room. You’re standing like this is your first time here. Arms slack, gaze on the corner of the couch nearest to you.

You had thought you were going to die. Had assumed they would torture you until they got what they wanted from the club, from Bish, had expected you would pass out before the worst of it could happen. Had wished it, even. Too afraid to endure it. Too familiar with yourself to know that you couldn’t survive any sort of violence like that. But they’d never even got you out of the trailer, when the door opened again it was Bishop. Gilly. EZ, too. The voices are easier to pick out now, than they were at the time.

‘You…’ He clears his throat behind. ‘You sure you’re not hurt?’

He’d asked you already, but that was when you were still too shaken up to answer him. Too filled with fear and adrenaline to even know for sure yourself. You look down at your hands, flexing your fingers like you’ve just discovered that they work. There’s no blood that you know of. No restriction of movement to anything.

‘No,’ you tell him, voice quiet, ‘just sore.’ The ride has left you bruised, no doubt, banged up from each turn they’d taken, metal to soft flesh. ‘I’m okay.’

It does’t feel like the truth, but it’s not a lie either. You’re in the middle of it somewhere.

Bishop steps around you, putting himself in front because you haven’t turned back to look at him, you haven’t really acknowledged him at all. He ducks his head, interrupting the gaze you’ve still got set on your hands.

‘You gonna be alright here?’ he asks. ‘On your own?’

You nod, looking past him still.

He says your name once.

‘I’ll be fine,’ you force yourself to make eye contact, ‘thank-you.’

It doesn’t convince him, but he’s already done so much. You’d heard the gunshots from inside the trailer, could see the stress lines in his forehead still, the scratch up his arm that he’d got during the rescue. How could you ask more of him now? You’re safe, you’re at home. He’d killed whoever it was that had taken you in the first place.

He nods, his hands on his hips. Then you watch him switch to put a palm over his beard, smoothing the hairs as he waits.

What he’s waiting for, you don’t know. You’re just standing, looking at him, looking at you, and doing nothing at all. Existing, really. Making peace with the idea of it again.

After what feels like ten minutes, but could never have been, he sighs, looking resigned. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ he says, flicking his chin toward you.

You haven’t really considered yourself until now. There’s straw in the tread of your shoes still, mud and dirt up the length of your jeans, along your bare arms. Sticky residue on your wrists, in your hair. As you swallow, you can taste the dust still, the grime, the dried paint from the rag they’d shoved into your mouth. It must look like you’ve been crawling through rabbit burrows, tousling with bulls and broncos.

‘What?’ You’re only just realising what he’s said.

He’s shrugging out of his kutte, and putting it over the back of the couch afterwards. ‘You’re in shock.’ He rolls his sleeves, glancing at you. ‘I’m not leaving you here like that.’

You can tell he’s trying to be kind, gentle, but the thought hasn’t quite reached his voice yet. He’s snippy still, short like he’s giving club orders, and not trying to look after you. It works, though. If he was talking to you like you might break, then, well, you would. It’s only staying in place right now because you are. Cracked pottery, perfectly balanced.

‘You don’t have to,’ you start, but he’s already gone, disappearing into the hallway behind. You hear him reach the bathroom, hear the tap crank, the water hitting the tub. He’s running you a bath. Bishop is running you a bath, unprompted. ‘Bish?’

You follow the path he took, minutes too late to really be able to stop him, and slow like you’re unfamiliar here, in your own home. Fingers bracing the walls as you pass them. When you get there, he’s sitting on the edge of the bath, forearm submerged in the water. He’s added soap, stirred it up into bubbles, and is testing the temperature while it fills still.

‘I don’t want you to…’ You fade off.

You don’t want him to what? It’s not the actions you have an issue with. You know you wouldn’t do it yourself. If someone wasn’t here to push you, you’d sit and rot in the dirt you’re wearing, let this day end and the next begin without moving at all. You can barely think from one action to the next, let alone put yourself back together.

But you don’t want him to feel like he has to be the one to do it. You aren’t his responsibility, he doesn’t owe you the care that a boyfriend might. He hadn’t known this would happen any more than you did.

‘Couldn’t find any, y’know, real bath shit,’ he says, flicking his hand dry. ‘Did my best with what you’ve got.’

You nod. You should smile, but you can’t. ‘I’m not a bath person.’

‘Yeah, well,’ he sighs, ‘you are tonight. Arms up.’

Your brows lift instead, surprise occupying your features. It’s the first emotion you’ve actually shown since you shut down to it all.

He stands, settling in front of you, boots to the bath matt. His lips stretch into a short smile that doesn’t convince either of you. ‘Come on, baby,’ he reasons. ‘You gotta let me look after you.’

He’s tired from the day, the stress, the fear, you know that. He’s unequipped to handle whatever it is you’re going through too, whatever has made you stand like a stranger in front of him. Whatever’s frozen you from doing anything at all. But he’s trying, that matters.

‘Okay.’ You say it aloud so it’s binding. He can help. If he wants to, you’ll let him.

You put your arms up and he pulls the hem of your top to get it off, gentle at first, then quick like he’s peeling a bandaid. In any other situation, any other time, it would excite you. Send a thrill from your heart, into your bare stomach. Make you rush to do the same in return. Now, though, the undress does nothing but brush a chill across your skin.

He bends, grunting as he lowers to the floor, one knee to the ground, one bent. He taps it, inviting you to put your foot there. Which you do, silent and obedient, glad to be anything but motionless. He unknots your laces, unfazed by the muck you’re leaving on his jeans, then tugs the boot from your foot. You do the same again with the other one, leaning on his shoulder to keep your balance.

‘You want me to…?’ He’s looking up at you now, on one knee still. His hands are set either side of your thighs, waiting, ready to do what you need him to.

‘No.’ You shake your head. ‘I can do it.’

He’s started the process, led you half way, and that’s the hard part. You can manage the rest. Jeans and underwear. It isn’t much. It’s not much, and you can do it. The more you think it, the more plausible it seems.

‘Alright.’ He stands, with another grunt, before moving to twist the taps off now the bath’s full. ‘I’ll get you something to drink.’

You nod, watching him leave before you can stop him again. It’s uniform, the way he’s caring for you. One task and then the next, like he’s flicking through a user guide, checking all the boxes. But then, so is your response to it. Function over anything else. It isn’t making you feel better yet but it’s getting you further than you were. You’ll be clean soon, ready for the next step.

You shove the jeans off, socks too, leave them and your underwear in a pile on the floor, before stepping into the tub. It’s warm, just right, and you sink into it gladly. Let it cover you, head to toe. Wash the dirt and the day away from your skin. You put your head under for minute, welcoming the wet to your hair, the dull to your senses. It helps. It strips you back of the tension you’d been carrying, smothers the noise between your ears.

When you surface again, sighing, it feels like waking up—just a bit, stirring the daydream. You can breathe a little easier now. Can appreciate the soap swimming around you and the sound of the microwave in the other room. If this were any other time, you’d think you were being spoiled, treated to a DIY spar day. It would feel like Bishop and you had finally decided to settle into something serious.

The door isn’t shut, not fully, but he knocks when he comes back, waiting behind the wood of it. You can just about see his shoulder through the gap, his head facing the other direction.

‘Can I come in?’ he asks.

‘Yeah.’ You’re long past being shy of his gaze, especially in the current context. Naked as you are, it’s hardly compromising, or appealing. ‘Please.’

He does so, pulling the door back in place behind him and wafting the smell of coffee across to where you’re soaking. ‘Couldn’t find any cocoa.’ He sets the mug on the edge of the bath, close enough to reach. ‘Thought you should have something warm at least.’

‘Thank-you.’ When you try to smile this time, you manage it. Wooden, faint, but there. ‘You can sit, if you want.’

He’s hovering, and doing his best not to look any lower than your face. When you offer, he nods, taking a place on the closed lid of the toilet and leaning his forearms on his knees. Not a comfortable position, or one he can hold for long, surely, but it’s reassuring still. Like setting a guard by the door. You aren’t fully convinced you won’t fall asleep here, under the blanket of warm water. At least now, if that happens, he’ll be there to keep your head above the surface.

‘Look,’ he says, interlinking his fingers and staring at them afterwards, ‘this shit should’ve never happened to you.’

You close your eyes. Force a breath through your nose.

‘I wish I could—’

‘Please,’ you cut him off, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ The water sloshes as you move, sinking further in. ‘Only just starting to feel human again,’ you tell him, hoping to land it as a joke, but not quite getting there.

‘Sorry.’

‘It’s fine.’ Apologies don’t suit him anyway.

‘You’re gonna have to at some point,’ he says. ‘To someone.’

‘I know.’ But not yet, not to him. You open your eyes to find him across the room. He’s already watching you with a tired expression, concern printed somewhere beneath it. ‘Will you stay?’ you ask, which isn’t something you ever ask of him, really. It’s always, yeah, good to see you, til next time, baby. Never stay, never with a plea in your tone.

‘Tonight?’ He nods. ‘Yeah.’

You hesitate. ‘And after that?’

He frowns slightly, sparing a hand to scrub it across his chin as he searches for an answer. How to put it nicely, you assume, how to tell you he can’t babysit you until you’re brave again.

‘I don’t mean,’ you correct, ‘I know you can’t watch me forever, but…’

‘I can stay,’ he decides. ‘Until this shit dies down.’

You let out a breath, chest sinking, back curving with the base of the tub. It won’t do forever, but it’ll do for now. Temporary and conditional.

#bishop x reader #obispo losa #mayans mc fanfic #whumpril2023 #bishop losa x reader #first bish fic hello?

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

Text

Valentine's Day Bingo: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @fleureeee @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @skyesthebomb @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@lora21 @kmc1989 @jp1019 @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @kabloswrld

Can be read as stand alone or a companion piece to:

Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop discovers a surprise Christmas gift.

Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.

Snow - Bishop talks to you about something that's been on his mind.

Miracle - You and Bishop get an extra Christmas gift this year.

Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square

The first time Bishop feels his baby kick is during Coco and Stitche’s wedding reception. The two of you are swaying together on the dance floor, his grizzled cheek pressed against yours, eyes closed as the music serenades you. There’s no better feeling in the world than this, having you pressed up against him, the baby residing in the space between you.

You’re five months pregnant at this point, just starting to show. He spends his evenings singing lullabies to his daughter in Spanish, his lips ghosting over your skin before he gets distracted by other things.

It’s when the song changes that the baby starts to react. The band switches to something with a faster pace and he feels a tiny dig against his navel.

“Oh.” You say as you tilt your head to look up at him. “I think she’s kicking.”

You take his hand in yours, pressing his palm flat against the baby bump and he laughs when he feels the small nudge. He spends the next few minutes following his daughter’s movements before the song changes and the baby goes quiet.

“She’s strong.” He says fondly as he draws you into his arms once more. “She’s going to be exactly like you.”

“She could end up a hellion like you.” You counter and Bishop grumbles.

“I hope not.”

The last thing he wants for his daughter is for her to adopt his personality traits, he was wild as a teenager and his biggest fear is that his daughter will follow in his footsteps.

“You turned out alright in the end.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing over that sensitive little spot at the nape of his neck, the one that releases all his tension.

“With a little help.” He smiles, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.

Bishop has always been convinced that you saved him. He was a functioning alcoholic when he met you, smoking forty a day and running drugs and guns up and down the country. He’d expected to be dead before sixty, through a bullet or bike accident. He was careless with his own life, there hadn’t been much to live for after Aiden had died. He’d been in a state of depression for over eight years before he started to see the sun again.

Now he’s on the board of the community centre, he has a home, a partner, a baby on the way. He doesn’t drink anymore, he’s cut his smoking right down, he’s trying to quit before Luna arrives. The job is less risky because the club has gone legit. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he has you to thank for that.

“You saved my life.” He tells you as he cradles you close. “You saved my god damned life.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo bishop losa #obispo losa x you

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

Text

A Quiet Moment

Bishop Losa x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 750

Prompt: "as your lover is undressing, you come up from behind, tracing kisses from their neck to their shoulders, as you feel them leaning into your touch" for Bishop (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration)

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, hint of spice (my blog is still 18+ only!!)

Notes: Oh Bishop my love!! You may have been an ass this past season, but I still love you lol! Thank you so much, anon for the request! I really enjoyed writing this one!

I also have an update blog to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates

It was late when you finally made it home, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and into your lover’s arms. It was a stressful time for both of you, and you wanted to be there for him as best as you could. Bishop had been through so much in his life, and you hoped that you were a brief relief from the pressures that constantly weighed on his shoulders.

You were quiet as you entered the home you shared with Bishop. It was dark inside, but you knew from the bike parked out front that he was there. You slipped off your shoes and made your way back into the bedroom where you hoped he would be.

Just as you thought, there he was. Bishop had his back to you as he slowly stripped off his kutte. He must have just beaten you home by the looks of it and with a smirk on your face you tip-toed your way over to him.

Without a word, you reached out for the toned muscles of his shoulders and you heard him hiss in surprise for a moment. Bishop’s shoulders tensed as he spun around with a hardened look on his face. Once he saw it was you, though, he immediately softened.

“Hey sweetheart,” he purred as he flashed you a smile and turned back around and tugged at his shirt.

“Hola, amor,” you whispered back as you gently squeezed his shoulders.

“I just got home,” Bishop murmured as you ran your hands across his skin and kneaded his muscles.

“I figured. You’ve barely been home much lately,” you kissed his shoulder, “You fucking asshole,” you added as you playfully smacked his back.

Bishop shorted a laugh, “I know, I’m sorry baby.” His voice was low, but soft and genuine, and you knew he meant his words.

You stayed silent as you went back to working out the knots in his muscles. Bishop let out a low groan as his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned back into your touch. His hands let go of his undershirt as he just enjoyed the pleasure of your touch. Under your own hands, you felt the way time had taken its toll on your lover as you tried your best to release some of the tension he held in his muscles.

As his shoulders slowly softened and dropped, you ran your hands down his sides and rested on his waist as you leaned your head against him. No words were exchanged between the two of you, none were needed. The two of you just swayed silently without any music as you took in a deep breath.

His hands came up and covered your own on his waist but neither of you bothered to move more than that. Bishop leaned back and rested his head over yours as he gave your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t see it, but you grinned widely at his shows of affection that he saved for when it was just the two of you alone.

After several long moments, you moved your hands and tugged at Bishop’s shirt. Still without a word, he knew what you wanted and Bishop released his grip of you and allowed you to pull the fabric up and off his body.

Your breath momentarily caught in your throat as you scanned over his bare skin as if it was the first time you were seeing it. Sometimes, you wondered if you told him enough how much you admired him and what effect he had on you. But, you hoped that your action spoke louder and any words could as you placed feather-light kisses along the top of his shoulder and up his neck while your hands found their way back to his waist. This time, your grip was rougher, and he knew exactly what that meant.

“You wanna take this party over to the bed, sweetheart?” Bishop groaned as he spun around and faced you. He paused for a moment as he took in the sight of you in the moonlight, “Fuck you are so beautiful,” he added before he lunged forward and took your lips with his in a heated kiss.

“So are you,” you breathed in between kisses as you let him drag you over to the bed as the moment turned more passionate. It wasn’t often both of you had quiet moments like this, and you and Bishop were determined to enjoy every last second you could with each other.

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Flight Risk

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Whumptober 2022: No.25 Alt Prompt- Touch Starved, and Request by @booksandlatenights: I think it was 35... "Can you tell me a secret " with Obispo. I just love him ❤ 😍 💕.....can it be smutty 😉

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, alcohol, smut

Word Count: 6k (idk what happened don’t look at me)

A/N: I got so wrapped up in this. I swear something took over my whole brain and when I snapped out of it this fic was written. I...I got nothin’. Hope you enjoy because idk when I’ll ever write smut like this again lmao

Bishop Losa Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sincerelyasomebody @thesandbeneathmytoes @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @queenbeered @gemini0410 @louisianalady @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @arveeee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @plentyoffandoms @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @bport76 @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @blessedboo @holl2712 @i-love-scott-mccall @beardsanddetectives @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @just1bri @fanfic-n-tabulous @anditsmywholeheart @amorestevens @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @thanossexual @choochoo284 @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You had a habit of tearing through people’s lives like a hurricane. You came crashing in, turning it all upside down, and then leaving a warpath behind you on your way out. That was exactly what had happened when you landed yourself in Santo Padre over a year ago. You’d been there for a couple of months before you were off and running again, not really planning on coming back. You figured that it was just going to be another red pin on the map, another place you got to say that you’d been to. There wasn’t anything overly remarkable about the little town to pull you back in so many months later. Nothing except the people in it.

Which was how you found yourself pulling into Bishop’s driveway in the middle of the night. You didn’t even know if you were going to be able to find it—it’d been so long since you had been there and it’s not like you had written down the address for safekeeping. But even from the other end of the block you could see his bike in the driveway, the light above the door glinting off the side of it.

You cut the engine and hopped out, walking up to his front door with more confidence than most would have after dropping off the radar for as long as you had. You hadn’t even given a real goodbye—one day you just stopped showing up. Bishop was too proud to reach out and ask where you’d gone, or why you left. You figured that you’d fade from his memory the same way so many people had faded from yours.

After knocking on the door, you waited and listened, straining your ear in an attempt to be a step or two ahead of him. Your hand rested on the hilt of the knife at your waist, prepared for the worst. It wasn’t like you could call him to warn him ahead of time that you were showing up—you went through burner phones faster than almost anyone.

Then you heard it, the scuffling of feet on the other side. Your fingers wrapped tighter around your knife when you heard the clicking of the locks being undone on the other side of the door. You held your breath, feeling like it was going to take him until morning to pull the door open.

His face went from anger, to surprise, to confusion as he looked at you through the small sliver he’d created as he pulled the door open. He didn’t open it all the way, making no move to step out onto the step with you, or to invite you inside with him. You only saw one hand, and you had the feeling that the other was pressed against his side of the door with a gun clutched in it.

One of you had to be the one to break the silence, and since you were the one turning up on his doorstep, it was only fair that it was you. “Hey,” you offered up, not sure how else to start the conversation.

He looked around behind you, making sure that it was really just you. “Hey.”

“I know it’s late.”

He scoffed. “About a year or so, actually.”

“Has it been that long?” The question was genuine—you’d never been good at keeping track of time.

“About that, yea.”

You shrugged. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

You chuckled, cocking one eyebrow. “What? You want some profuse apologies? Drop to my knees and tell you how much—”

“What are you here for?”

You paused for a moment before answering. It was only in that moment that you could hear the edge in his voice. It was brought on by more than just you suddenly popping back up into his life. You finally saw how different he really looked, too. More than just his beard that had grown out quite a bit since you last saw him. It also had more grey in it than you remembered. His hair was a little longer, a lot messier. More than anything, though, you could see it in his eyes that he was in a different place than when you’d took off all that time ago.

You shrugged again. “I was in town. Figured why not stop by?” He didn’t say anything in response to that—you could tell that he was still sizing you up. You sighed. “Listen, if you’re not going to let me in, tell me now. I’ll go find a fucking motel.”

He thought on that for a moment before finally opening the door a little wider. He wouldn’t say it even if he knew how to, but he had missed you. Not in a constant, debilitating, aching way. But you crossed his mind more than he thought you would and each time it happened it always stopped him in his tracks for a few minutes as he wondered where you were, why you took off, and why you never bothered to reach out to him.

Stepping inside, you looked around. Clearly his facial hair wasn’t the only thing that he’d let go since the last time you saw him. The number of beer cans and liquor bottles around the house would be more or less concerning if you knew how long it took to accumulate them all.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” you said with a small chuckle. You turned around to see him latching the locks on his door. There were more of those there than last time too. Apparently a lot had gone down in the relatively short time you’d been away. “Those are new.”

He scoffed, tucking his gun into the back of his waistband as he walked over to you. You hoped that he had put the jeans on when you knocked and hadn’t also turned into a Jeans Sleeper since the last time you saw him. “Lotta shit’s different now.”

“Mm,” you hummed as you nodded. “I see that.” Reaching forward, you went to trail your fingers through his beard. You raised your eyebrows but didn’t comment directly when he jerked away from your touch. “Beard’s different, too.”

His eyes really raked over you then, slowly and intentionally. Like you calling him out for what had changed with him reminded him to look at what had really changed with you. He’d been so focused on the familiar look in your eyes that he’d missed the rest of it. You had a habit of reinventing yourself in one way or another as you hopped from one town to the next. Your hair was different now, most of your wardrobe had been lost or swapped out along the way except for the one pair of jeans that you would rather patch and sew up five million times than let them go. You had more rings on than you used to. It would take most people a second glance to recognize you, but not Bishop.

“How’d you end up back here?” he asked as he slowly walked past you and went towards the kitchen.

You chuckled. “Would you believe me if I just said that I missed you?”

“No,” his voice was devoid of any amusement.

You sighed, shaking your head. “C’mon, Bish, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Bitter?”

“You took off.”

“Yea? And?”

He huffed as he pulled a can of beer out of the fridge. “Didn’t think that maybe a fuckin’ goodbye was in order?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked into the kitchen after him. Waiting until he cracked it open, you snatched the beer from him before he could take a sip. Annoyance flashed across his face but he didn’t try to take it back. You took a long drink from it before saying, “I didn’t think it was really necessary,” you told him honestly, “didn’t think we were really that serious.”

“You were pretty much living here.”

“Yea,” you let out a dry laugh, “’cause I was pretty much homeless. Not unlike I am now.”

“So that’s why you’re back?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it all. “Sure, yea, let’s go with that.”

He shook his head at you as he went and grabbed a second can of beer for himself out of the refrigerator. He made sure to stand a little farther away from you as he opened it and took a sip. He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time, watching you intently as you lifted the can back to your lips. Despite whatever hurt and frustration he was harboring, you could still see that same familiar look in his eyes. It was the same look that had basically given you a free place to stay last time you landed yourself in Santo Padre.

Finishing off the can, you tossed it into the garbage by the counter. You waited a moment to see if Bishop had any other slick comments up his sleeve, or any more questions for you to try and evade. He stayed quiet, though. You crossed the kitchen and landed yourself closer to him. You didn’t miss the way that his grip tightened around the can in his hand—it almost got a laugh out of you.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.

He laughed, not just at the question but at the idea of you actually being straight with him for once. “You can try.”

That earned him a smile as you shook your head. Locking eyes with him again, you said, “You look like shit, Bish.”

He laughed, and it was pretty close to genuine. You wondered if he even remembered what that was like. He shook his head at you. “You…don’t.”

“I know,” you chuckled. You waited a moment. “You miss me?”

He frowned for a moment as his brows came together. The answer to the question felt obvious. He wondered if you really just wanted to hear him say it out loud. “Did you miss me?”

You sighed, reaching and toying with the belt loops of his jeans. “I killed the part of me that misses people a long time ago.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled as he shook his head, but you could tell that his heart wasn’t in it.

“Your turn.” You flipped the conversation back onto him. “You miss me?”

He ran his teeth along his lip before finally answering. “Yea.”

You smiled at that, maybe a little prouder than you should’ve been. You never made return trips anywhere, so anyone you ever shared a home or a bed with wasn’t anyone who you ever saw again. That was half the reason you never tried to think about whether or not they thought about you. That’s why you stopped thinking about them first. It was validating, though, to know that you were still in his head even after you were long past county lines.

“Don’t look so fuckin’ happy about it,” his voice was gruff as he said it, but you could hear the slight hint of humor.

“Sorry, sorry.” You laughed. “I just, I figured that you would’ve just moved right along, I guess. Scooped up some new girl to keep your bed warm.”

“You think that’s all it was?”

You shrugged. “I never assume that I mean anything extra to people.”

“I don’t usually bring home strays.”

“Yea, well,” you reached to toy with his beard again, and this time he didn’t pull away quite so fast, “out of the two of us, you’re the one who is looking like a stray these days.”

He shook his head. “Beard really isn’t doing it for you?”

“Would you shave it if I said that it wasn’t?”

He rolled his eyes as he set his beer can off to the side. “Do you ever just answer a question?”

You chuckled. “You know the answer to that.”

Neither of you said anything for a moment after that. You were focused on the way your fingers tangled easily into the length of his beard in a way that they hadn’t been able to before. Bishop’s focus was on the look in your eyes, and just how close your hand was getting to actually touching and caressing his skin. You hadn’t even really laid a hand on him yet and he already felt that familiar warmth starting to wash over him, that slight sense of jitters that he hadn’t known before you, and hadn’t felt since.

Bishop didn’t realize the change in his breathing, but you sure did. The rise and fall of his chest was impossible to miss, and you were willing to bet that if you pressed your palm against his chest that his heart would be working double-time. You heard the unsteadiness in the deep breaths he was letting out, like he was bracing for something but he didn’t really know what.

When you met his eyes again, they were practically blacked out. It was a look that you remembered fondly, but it wasn’t one that you expected to see on him again. You untangled your fingers from his beard, sliding your hand up so that you could cup the side of his face. The second the pads of your fingers caressed his cheek, he reached up and grabbed your wrist tight in his hand. You gasped quietly, not really sure what to expect next. Part of you was wondering if he was going to tell you to get the fuck out of his house.

You lifted your fingers from the side of his face, opening your hand as far as it could go in an act of surrender. “Want me to stop, Bish?” you hadn’t meant to whisper but you did.

He swallowed hard, thinking on his answer for a moment before he finally shook his head. “No.”

Your shoulders relaxed, your facial expression softening. It was starting to fall into place, the tension in his body and movements. You wondered when someone had last taken care of him, when the last time someone had really touched him was. If the way his tongue was dragging along his bottom lip was telling you anything, it was that it had been a long fucking time.

“You gotta let me go, then,” you kept your voice soft.

His grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t completely let go. You smiled as you rested your hand back against the side of his face, your palm cupping his cheek and your thumb grazing his cheekbone. It took a moment, but then he completely melted into it, leaning deeper into your palm as his shoulders began to relax. Your heart ached a little at the sight. His grip on your wrist tightened again, but not in the same way it had before. He wasn’t gripping to pull you away this time, he was tightening his hold to make sure you stayed.

You stepped in a little closer, your other hand slipping so that your fingers were curled over the waistband of his jeans, your nails grazing against the fabric of his underwear for a fraction of a second but it was still enough to make him tense up.

“Did you miss me, Bishop?” you asked again, just wanting to hear him say it again.

You weren’t disappointed, the breathlessness of his voice nearly making you melt into the floor. “Yes.”

“Yea?” you pressed, seeing how he was making a concentrated effort at this point to keep his eyes open, “What’d you miss?”

He tried to let out a sound to make him seem annoyed but he couldn’t manage it. “C’mon.”

“What?” You couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you leaned in closer to him. Your forehead wasn’t quite touching him, but it was close. You were close enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath against his skin as you said, “Tell me.”

He felt like his legs were about to give out from underneath him. He wanted to pull you closer, hold you tight enough that it felt like your body was melting into his. He wanted to feel the warmth of your palms on his skin, the dig of your nails into him as you clawed and held him tight. He wanted to feel the soft warmth of your lips on his.

He tilted his head, leaning in to try and press his lips to yours, but you were the one to pull away this time. You didn’t pull far, just enough to make sure that he didn’t get what he wanted. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way that he was on the brink of combustion. Maybe you were being a bit cruel, doing this to him after leaving him the way you did. It wasn’t going to stop you, though.

“Tell me, Obispo.” Your lips barely brushed against his as you spoke, enough of a tease to almost bring him to his knees. “Tell me what you missed.”

“Everything,” the word came out so desperately.

You smiled at that, pleased but not pleased enough. You knew that the Bishop you knew back then would’ve had you pinned against the counter or down to the mattress by now, not entertaining any of this. But he wasn’t that man anymore, and you were looking forward to using that to your advantage.

You slid your hand down his face, letting the pad of your thumb graze along his bottom lip. “My hands?” you asked softly, pulling at his lip ever so slightly.

He nodded, breaths coming out staggered. “Yes.”

You hummed in approval, leaning in and letting your lips graze against his cheek as you brought them right next to his ear. Your lips wrapped around his earlobe for the shortest second before you asked, “You miss this mouth?” You kissed his ear. “These lips?”

His hands landed on your hips, gripping tight enough to make you flinch for a moment. “Yes.”

Reaching down, you took one of his hands and brought it to your chest, reveling in the low groan he let out as you did, not caring that the barriers of your shirt and bra were still between. “You miss—”

You didn’t even get to finish the question as his fingers began to knead hungrily at the concealed skin, “Yes.”

You laughed softly as you pressed a light kiss to his neck, something just to keep him on his toes. Something that would throw him off just a little. A tiny reward for good behavior. The second your lips hit the sensitive skin there, he tilted his head so it rested against yours. You could’ve sworn that you could hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“Obispo?”

He sucked in a long, deep breath. “Yea?”

You took his other hand, slipping it past the waistband of your jeans. You guided his fingers down along the fabric of your underwear, enough contact for him to know how wet you were, not enough for him to really be able to touch you.

You tilted your head up so that your lips were brushing against his ear as you spoke, “You miss this pussy?”

“Fuck,” he breathed out shakily.

You felt the fight drain out of him. He moved his hand up from your chest to roughly grip your jaw. He went to pull you in for a bruising kiss as his other hand went to slip past the thin, lacey fabric of your panties, but he didn’t get to do any of that. Your fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist, your other hand planting itself firmly against his chest. He let out the closest thing to a whine you’d ever heard from him.

“Answer me.”

“Please—”

Despite the fact that you were whispering, your voice was firm. “Answer me and I’ll let you touch me.”

“Yes,” he forced out, and you could feel him wanting to fight against you.

“Yes, what?”

His breathing was labored for someone who hadn’t even done anything yes. “Yes,” he tried to sound less strung out than he was, “I missed this pussy.”

The sound that came out of you at that was inhuman. You leaned in, finally letting your lips collide with his as you bit roughly at his bottom lip. You relinquished your grip on his wrist as both your hands snaked behind his head and into his hair. He moaned into your mouth his hands moving desperately, one slipping past the lace between your legs and the other sliding down so it was wrapped lightly around your throat. He pushed your back against the refrigerator, the impact causing a few of the magnets to clatter to the floor but he didn’t care.

His fingers stroked along you just enough to get wet before sliding into you. You moaned at the contact, your grip on his hair tightening as his fingers began to pump and curl inside of you. If he didn’t have you pinned so tight, you might’ve been the one melting to the floor.

He pulled his lips off of yours just long enough to say, “Feels like you missed me too.”

You smiled and you were about to laugh when he crashed his lips back into yours and robbed you of the chance. The second your teeth dragged along his bottom lip again, his grip on your throat tightened. He felt the way you clenched around him the harder he squeezed and it took what tiny speck of self-control he still had left to not rip your jeans off and fuck you right there in the kitchen.

But for all he knew this was the only night he was going to get with you for a long time. For all he knew it was the last night he was going to get. And he wasn’t going to waste it.

He let go of your throat, and you gasped as air flooded back into your lungs. Your eyes snapped open as you looked at him, trying to figure out what was coming next. You couldn’t even try to stop the whine you let out when he pulled his fingers out of you.

You were about to ask why, about to pout, but when your lips parted to ask, he slid his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself off of them. You moaned around his fingers and he couldn’t hide the hunger in his eyes.

Sliding his fingers out of your mouth, he kissed you hard as he regained his grip on your hips. He pulled you off the fridge, turning you and pushing you down the hallway. His lips didn’t leave yours except for him to say, “Come on.”

It felt like you still knew his house like the back of your hand as you blindly let him push you down the hall and into his bedroom. He kicked the door shut, and you expertly kicked off your shoes as he backed you towards the bed. It was hard not to get distracted by the way his hands moved to start working the button and zipper on your jeans, and it made it even harder to try and return the favor. You lost your focus completely as he reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it off over your head. You saved him the effort and unclasped your bra, slipping it off and tossing it aside before bringing your hands back to his jeans.

He was faster than you, pushing your jeans and underwear down over the curve of your ass. You were about to mirror his actions when he pushed you back onto the mattress, your back hitting flat against it with your legs hanging off the edge. You were only half-propped up on your elbows when he pulled your bottoms off the rest of the way in one desperate motion, flinging them behind him with enough force that they smacked against the closed door, the knife still attached amplifying the sound more than necessary.

“Bish—”

You didn’t get anything else out as he closed the small bit of distance between you, pushing you farther up the bed by your hips. His hands ran up your calves and over your knees, fingertips touching every bit of you that he could now access. The pads of his fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed a kiss to the side of your calf. You whimpered at the feeling of his lips gliding along your skin, his tongue darting out ever so quickly as he made his way up your thighs to your hips.

You looked down at him as he traced his fingers along your folds. He looked up at you, and you could see his desperation battling it out with the fact that he knew he needed your permission. You smiled, knowing that you weren’t in much better shape than him at this point, but you still had the upper hand.

He beat you to the punch, answering the question before you even asked it. “I missed how good you taste too, querida.”

The smile on your face grew as your head dropped back against the mattress. He didn’t waste any time, diving into you like a man starved. He quickly moved your legs so that they were draped over his shoulders. It took no time at all for him to make your legs start to shake, your thighs clenching around his head. Your fingers threaded their way into his hair again, pulling him against you as much as you could as he slid his fingers back into you.

“Fuck, Bishop,” you bucked your hips up against him, “I’m gonna cum.”

That was when he stilled completely. It nearly killed him, but he managed to stop. He pulled his lips off of you, took his fingers out of you, and soaked in the whine you let out as you lifted your head up to look at him. Even though you didn’t say it, he could see the question, “What the fuck?” written plain as day on your face.

He pulled his t-shirt off over his head, tossing his gun onto the nightstand and ridding himself of his jeans and underwear too before climbing onto the bed, situating himself over you and between your legs. You felt his cock pressed against you, the way that he couldn’t help but to grind against you for the slightest bit of relief. Trying to get payback was still torture for him, too.

Your hands started on his hips, trying to pull him closer and into you, but he held strong. You slid them around to his back and up to his shoulder blades, letting your nails set into him before clawing down his back, lifting your hips in the hopes of a little more friction. He let out a shaky breath, but he still didn’t give in. You brought your hands to his front, lightly trailing down his chest and the firm planes of his stomach. He trembled beneath your touch, but he still didn’t give in.

He'd nearly forgotten how good it really felt to be touched by you. He just knew that no one else measured up. After a few lackluster attempts to find a replacement, he’d just given up. He hadn’t thought about how long it’d been since a hand besides his own touched him like this. But now it was all coming back to him.

His arms caged you in, resting on either side of your head. His lips were pressed lightly against yours as he spoke. “Say you missed me too.”

He’d meant for it to come out as a command, but it fell from his lips like a plea. When this was all over you’d say that you were just taking pity on him with your response, but you were taking just as much pity on yourself as you said, “I missed you, Obispo.”

He caught your lips in a bruising kiss as he slid into you. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, pulling him flush to you. His thrusts were slow at first, methodical since he was already on the brink of losing it. You hooked your arms underneath his and pulled him tight, pinning his chest to yours. He moaned as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. The last time he was this tangled up with someone was the last time he was with you, and those memories seemed to get farther and farther away. It felt new and like coming home again all at once. The feeling of your skin pressed against his wiped away every other thought that he had. He felt the way that your legs tightened around his waist, the way your nails dug into the skin of his back, the way that your walls fluttered around his cock as he continued to thrust into you. You were all over him, quenching a thirst that had been silently killing him.

Pulling his mouth off of yours, he dropped his face into the crook of your neck. You moaned as you felt his teeth sinking into the soft skin there, sucking hard enough to leave a mark for the morning. Your hands clawed at him helplessly, not quite sure what you were reaching for. Maybe leaving the red trails for the morning would be enough.

He lifted himself up just enough so that his chest wasn’t pressed against yours anymore. You tried to pull him back down but he held fast, slowing his pace down again as he waited for you to look him in the eyes. You did, biting down on your bottom lip nearly hard enough to draw blood.

His hand grazed teasingly over your breast, enough to make you squirm but not enough to give you enough of anything. You whined and his hand immediately wrapped around your throat at that. You brought your hand up so that it was wrapped tightly around his forearm, but he could see it in your eyes that you weren’t trying to stop him. He tightened his grip a little more, and a smile curled your lips.

“You gonna smile like that when you cum for me, querida?” he asked, feeling the way that you were clenching around him.

“Yes,” you gasped out.

It got a smile out of him too as he sped up his pace. “Good.”

It didn’t take long before you were arching you back, whining against his vice grip as you came around him. He relinquished his grip on your neck as you came, watching the way you chest heaved with each breath you sucked in. He leaned in, attaching his lips to yours before you’d fully caught your breath, but you didn’t even care. You cupped his face, moving your lips hungrily against his as you felt his hips start to stutter.

He came inside you with a moan, dropping his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the sweat beneath the pads of your fingers. He kept thrusting into you, like maybe if he pushed himself deep enough inside you, you’d miss him enough to keep coming back. Maybe you wouldn’t leave at all.

You tightened the loop of your legs around him, making him still. He pressed a string of lazy kisses along your sweat-slicked skin. You squirmed at the ticklish sensation of his beard against your neck and shoulder, but you smiled, your hand resting on the back of his head so that he wouldn’t stop. His hands wandered all over you, as though being inside you, laying against you, still wasn’t enough to satiate months and months of hunger.

“Bishop?” you said after a couple minutes of silence.

He lifted his head enough to look you in the eyes. “Yea?”

“Leaving without saying goodbye was kind of shitty.”

He huffed out a laugh, letting his forehead rest against yours. “That your version of an apology?”

“No,” you chuckled, “letting you fuck me was my version of an apology.” He shook his head, but he didn’t have it in him to fight you on it. You caressed the sides of his face. “You glad you let me in?”

“I’m glad I didn’t shoot you through the fucking door,” he joked.

“Did you think about it?” you asked with a breathless laugh.

“I think about doing that to anyone who rolls up here in the middle of the night.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “That’s fair.”

There were a few beats of silence before he asked, “Tell me something?”

You let out a tired laugh, “What, like a secret?”

“Yea, sure. Tell me a secret—tell me where you’ve been. Or why you’re back.”

You sighed, shutting your eyes. “You know, Bish, this isn’t really a conversation I wanna have while you’re still inside of me. Can it wait until morning?”

“You think I won’t be inside of you in the morning?”

You had to chuckle at that. “Not if you wanna find out where I’ve been.”

He kissed you on the lips, softly like he was really soaking it in this time. “Alright.”

The two of you eventually settled, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep your back flush against his chest. His legs were tangled between yours, every now and then you’d feel him press a kiss to your shoulder or back. Sometimes his fingers would drift so that they ran over your thighs, but they always came back to their original position around your waist, keeping you snug and safe to him. Before too long, you heard his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. It was only then that you were able to drift off to sleep too.

When you woke up in the morning, it was light out, the sun slipping through the crack in the curtain. Bishop’s hold on you had tightened during the night, like even in his sleep he was trying to make sure you didn’t slip away again. You let out a sigh as your body fully woke up, your hands resting on top of his. He was still fast asleep, steady exhales ghosting over your skin. The ache that was starting to bloom in your chest made you remember why, among many reasons, you never backtracked to the same place, the same people. Slowly and carefully, you pried yourself free. By some miracle, he was still out cold.

Your footsteps were exceptionally light as you crept around the room, gathering your clothes and redressing as you went. You looked over at the mattress—Bishop was still laying with his back to you and you could see the red marks left from the night before. You frowned, raking your fingers back along your scalp as you wondered if you really wanted to do what you were about to do.

Scooping your shoes up off the floor, you held onto them as you walked back around to the other side of the bed. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, and a sad smile crossed your face at the sight. You knew he’d never forgive you for doing it twice, that if you walked out again there was no way he would ever let you back in. Or maybe he would. Maybe another year, or two, could go by and he’d be just as starved for you as he was last night. You wondered if you’d ever be back to find out.

Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to the center of his forehead, the same way you had before. You gently cupped the side of his face, memorizing it, updating the mental image you had of him, one that had been slowly starting to blur when you made the decision to come back. You wanted to say goodbye, but you knew that you wouldn’t. You never did.

You slipped back off the mattress and out of his bedroom, softly clicking the door shut behind you. You didn’t put your shoes on until you were back out on his front steps again. The short walk to your car took much longer on your way out than it had on your way in. As you turned your key in the ignition, you were painfully aware that you could slip back into bed with him now and he wouldn’t know the difference. But before you could, your body went through the motions that your mind wouldn’t, putting your car in reverse and backing out of his driveway, heading to leave Santo Padre in the dust again.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #obispo losa x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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ficnation · 2 years

Text

Loss - Bishop Losa x Reader

Summary: You try your best to comfort Obispo after his friend's death.

Word count: 1,0k+

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female! Reader

Warnings: spoilers for season 2, angsty

A/n: Just something short to get back into writing. Enjoy!

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Bishop knew you were smart, sometimes even too smart for your own good, and you could read people without effort. You had him all figured out just after your first meeting, which irritated him back then. He knew exactly what he was getting into, yet he still couldn’t let you walk away from him.

The moment he crossed the doorway, you were already staring at him with squinted eyes from your comfortable blanket nest on the couch. He didn’t even notice you were there until you spoke up.

“You’re upset,” you stated, closing the book you were reading. “What happened?”

Bishop stopped in the corridor, his brows raised at your words, letting you know you saw right through him.

“Jesus, woman, let me at least take my shoes off.” He scowled, challenging you to pry any further while unlacing his boots and putting them away.

“Hey, I’m very patient.” You ignored the unpleasant tone of his voice, sitting up and curling up your legs so you could rest your chin on your knees. You waited in silence so he could make his way toward you.

Bishop sat down beside you with a tired sigh, rubbing his temples. “Do we have to do this now? It’s late. You should be sleeping, cariña.”

It was well past midnight, and you would usually already be sprawled out on that couch, having fallen asleep while you waited for him to come home. Today it was different, though. You had a feeling that something terrible had happened, and it didn’t let you close your eyes even for a minute. So you spent the night reading books, waiting patiently for your husband to return so you could see with your own eyes that he was unharmed and well.

You watched him closely, your features softening into a half-smile at the term of endearment. You reached over to squeeze his hand reassuringly, and he let you, marveling at the feeling of your skin on his.

“Couldn’t really sleep without you next to me.”

Your words made Bishop finally look at you, his eyes staring into yours with recognition. He knew that feeling. He couldn’t fall asleep without you in bed beside him either. It just felt wrong when you weren’t there.

“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t leave earlier,” Bishop mumbled out, raising your joined hands to leave a kiss on top of your palm.

He knew he couldn’t always be there for you. Being the club’s president was time-consuming, more than he imagined. But it was everything to him, and you understood that and never made him feel bad about not having much time to spend with you.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” You propped your chin on his shoulder, covered by the club’s kutte. “Tell me what happened.”

Bishop ran his free hand through his hair, sighing yet again. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words. He never knew how to tell you about someone’s death, especially someone you had known and cared for.

“Hey, if you don’t want to, it’s okay too. But remember that you can tell me anything,” you assured, seeing the troubled expression on your husband’s face.

Your thumb brushed against his knuckles, and you could feel him relax at your touch.

After several long moments, he took another deep breath and started talking cautiously, trying to suppress the anger bubbling deep inside of him. The anger at those stupid Vatos who took his friend away for good.

“We lost Riz today,” he said finally, cutting straight to the chase.

Your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t expect it to be that serious before he told you that information. “I’m so sorry, baby,” you whispered. Your thumb brushed against his knuckles in a soothing motion.

Bishop closed his eyes, trying hard to push back the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. “Yeah. Me too.”

You knew Riz was a good guy and didn’t deserve to die so soon. None of the Mayans did; they were all genuinely good people, no matter how they shaped themselves to appear to others. They were like a family to you; you loved them wholeheartedly.

“What happened? Who did this?” The question was followed by a pause before you added quietly, “Are you going after them?” You held your breath as you waited for an answer, but you couldn’t help the tears that spilled down your cheeks.

Your thumb traced a few circles on the back of his hand. You could feel him shake lightly under your touch. It broke your heart to watch him in this state. It took him a minute or two before he found the strength to speak again.

“We will. The fuckers won’t know what hit them,” Bishop stated with certainty, wiping away the tears from his face with his arm. He never wanted to let anyone see him cry, yet you saw it more times than he wished you did. You were the one who taught him that it’s not a weakness to show emotions.

“Go to bed with me?” you proposed and got up from the couch, still holding his hand in yours. You didn’t comment on his decision. It wasn’t your place to say anything, especially since you didn’t have the whole picture, and it could’ve been pretty gruesome.

The man agreed wordlessly, letting you pull him to his feet and toward the door to your shared bedroom. You helped him take off his kutte, putting it on the backrest of one of the comfy chairs in the room, while Bishop got rid of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers.

You turned the lights off before looking at your husband, who had already crawled into the bed. He smiled weakly, beckoning you closer so you could cuddle up to him like always. You obliged quickly and snuggled up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso and holding him tight. Bishop kissed your forehead, making you look up at him.

“I love you, mi rey,” you whispered as if anything louder could disturb the silence enveloping the room. You left a sweet kiss on his lips, giggling when he bit down lightly on your lower lip.

“Sleep well, mami.”

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ravennaortiz · 4 months

Text

Elf in Templo

Summary: Bonus content from A Mayans Christmas 2023 Day 29: Elf. Requested by @darqchilddaydreamz Word Count ~2300

Bishop is being terrorized by what he believes to be a demon.

The first time Bishop saw the devil was in the early morning hours as it sat a top his bike. Bishop had been awoken by something and saw lights out front. Grabbing his gun he had walked through his darkened house until he could peer through the window of his porch. There he sat illuminated by a bright light before everything went dark and when the light came back he was gone.

Bishop figured he had put back one to many Inferno Whiskys at the club with the boys and that his mind was playing tricks on him. The next morning though he had found a small note taped to the handle bars of his bike. "I saw you peeking. Very Naughty". Bishop pondered the note before setting off for the clubhouse figuring it was just neighborhood kids up to mischief.

The next couple of days he caught glimpses of the devil and heard his eerie giggles and loud thumping foot steps. Always tempting him to follow into the darkness at the clubhouse when he was shutting it up or taunting him to come out of his house late at night. Bishop wondered what he had done to bring on this creature of what he presumed was death. Notes kept appearing either typed or written in paint occasionally drawn in white powder on tables and floors. They were innocent enough but Bishop could see them for the thinly veiled threats they were. Logic could not prevail because none of his men saw or heard the devil or any of the messages.

One day the little psycho had lit the whole bar top on fire and not a single man batted an eye as the flames spread and the pyromaniac demon darted off into the back storage room. The only commentary had been from Angel and Gilly after Bishop had emptied the fire extinguisher.

Bishop wasn't sleeping well and was hyper alert at all times. His home had become a battleground as well. He would go to use the sink and the sprayer would be taped, salt and sugar were switched around. Windows opened and doors closed on their own and little foot prints and sprinkles littered the floors and counters. Nowhere it seemed was safe. Bishop recalled trying to use the bathroom at the clubhouse and finding the seat to have been lined with popper fireworks

Eight days after the siege began the devil tried to take one of his men but Bishop had prevailed. It was a day like any other. Templo was in session and coming to a close when Bishop heard it. The eerie childlike giggle of his adversary. His men were all still discussing matters and did not seem to hear anything amiss. Looking around he spotted the devil descending from the ceiling with a large butcher knife in his tiny gloved hands over Gilly. With cat like reflexes Bishop launched himself across the table causing the room to erupt into chaos. Drinks, men and bullets went flying as Bishop shouted he has a knife get down as he started shooting. After several minutes of adrenaline pumping chaos Bishop started laughing manically as he picked up the bullet ridden devil off the table as his men stared wide eyed from where they had taken care of. "I told you all he was real!" shouted Bishop as he dangled the creature before discarding the body in the trash and leaving the room.

Later that night

"We should probably stop right?" inquired EZ as he sipped his beer as he sat across from his brother Angel at Gillys house. "I mean.... like someone could have been hurt or killed today" he added as the other two men remained silent. "I say we double down. Resurrect the little motherfucker" stated Angel as he grinned. He was having to much fun with this weird Christmas elf to stop now when it was getting good. "I agree with Angel" replied Gilly as he chuckled. "Besides I got like ten more of these guys" he added as EZ shook his head. "We should warn his wife" stated EZ knowing she would be back from her business trip tomorrow night. "Nah. I wanna see if and what he tells her since she is a witch an all" replied Angel. "You just love to play with fire" laughed Gilly. "It only burns for a bit" replied Angel. "

Next Morning

Bishop woke up feeling elated that he had fought the devil and won. How many men could say that he thought to himself as he whistled while getting dressed. He was also ecstatic to have you back home and to tell you about his battle. You had been gone for a couple weeks and he missed you dearly. Bishop had just stepped outside his door when he saw the note in dripping crimson on his porch. "You can't kill me Bishop".

*****

By the end of the day Bishop had been sprayed with water, had his bike breakdown, had his coffee cup explode, flour and honey dumped on him and been locked in the bathroom for hours after the door knob had fallen off and when he tried to climb out the window he found it covered in bike grease and a laughing face was taped to the window. All done by the demon he presumed as he had heard the laughter and caught glimpses of him. When you texted him you were back he all but ran the four miles to the house in the hopes you would be able to help him.

***

You had just stepped out of the shower when the bathroom door flung open. Shrieking you yanked a towel off the rack. Unfortunately you pulled to hard and the whole thing toppled to the floor with a clang. Seeing your husband standing their with a shock on his face you huffed. "Bishop, what the hell is wrong with you. I had no idea you were on your way" you complained as you crossed your arms and waited for a reply.

"I think I'm haunted" stated Bishop before bending down to pick up the towel rack, your nudity not even registering with him. "Little demon has been following me for days. Though I killed him but he has rose from the ashes like a phoenix" he continued as you just stared at him unable to figure out what he was saying. "I don't know what to say" you stated as you moved out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. "I need you to help me exorcise it" stated Bishop as he followed you.

"What does it look like?" you asked as you started to apply lotion and put on your pj's. "Red and white suit with a hat. Brown hair, big soul sucking eyes, pointed shoes" listed Bishop as he sat down rubbing his face with his hands. "He writes to me" he added as you nodded. I see" you replied as you grabbed your phone off the dresser and sent a group text to the usual suspects.

****

you: bish thinks a demon is following him. Wants me to exorcise it.

Angel: Lol

EZ: Easy target

Gilly: Elf in the Templo is sketchy. I don't recommend you interfere.

You: I knew this had to be the three of you lol

You: I leave for a couple weeks and all hell breaks loose. What was the end game?

Gilly: Honestly the Reyes brothers are bad influences

EZ: Says the man who has a stash of weird elfs

Angel: We were just gonna leave a note saying he left.

****

"You think I'm nuts" stated Bishop as he looked at you solemnly as you texted. He thought of all people in his life that you would believe him. "No, I think maybe someone is playing a trick on you. This demon you describe sounds like this thing called Elf on the Shelf. Its used around the holiday season for kids. I think mostly to make them behave" you replied as you moved to sit next to him and cupped his cheek giving him a kiss. "Is this the demon" you asked showing him a photo on your phone. Bishops eyes widened in recognition.

"Hmm" replied Bishop as he considered your words. Maybe you had a point he thought to himself. This type of childish behavior would not be above the so called men in his club. They were always pranking each other and horsing around. A few weeks ago Bishop had mentioned he was unprankable and had made a rule he was not to be messed with as he would not participate.

"Where are you going?" you called as Bishop stood and made his way to the door. "To catch some devilish elfs" he replied with a mischievous grin and laugh as he disappeared into the dark hallway. You sighed heavily before sending one last text. "Guess I'll be spending my first night home alone" you muttered.

You: You all should not have poked the bear.

****

"Do you think she told?" asked EZ as he read the message while Gilly and Angel played a round of pool. "Nah" answered Angel as he shook his head. "She probably just told him something logical like its an elf not a demon" replied Gilly as he took his shot before looking over at EZ. "We just gottta be careful now. Bishop will retaliate" he added confidently as Angel nodded. "You think so?" inquired EZ skeptically. "Oh yeah, he is not a man who will let this slide especially after the bathroom incident and the gun battle in templo" replied Angel as he gave his brother a pointed look. "I was just trying to be creative" muttered EZ as he looked away with a grin.

2 Days Later

"You all need to chill with this elf shit" stated Coco as he slammed himself into the empty chair next to Gilly. "Bishop is loco. Just lassoed me outside and patted me down muttering about diablo. Not to mention how he kidnapped Creeper the other day practically waterboarding him trying to get a confession" he explained as he looked around the table at Angel and EZ as they laughed. "Coco may be right" stated Gilly as he drew the others attention to Bishop as he walked through the clubhouse door whistling and carrying a large cross before going into Templo.

There was silence followed by loud bangs. " Can one of you bring me some stakes, saw and a hammer" called Bishop from Templo. "I got ya" called Guero as he walked by the open door glancing in before walking over to where the other guys sat. "Yall know he is wearing the body of that elf he shot the other day as a necklace right?" inquired Guero before continuing on his errand to gather items for Bishop.

A few hours later

"Bishop wants everyone in Templo immediately" called Hank as he walked into the clubhouse quickly. "Everything okay?" asked Angel as everyone headed to the door. "Don't know he was chanting and shit" replied Hank his face full of worry. Angel and Gilly exchanged looks as they made there way in to the room. "The fuck" mumbled EZ as everyone stood in shock at the sight before them. Bishop was standing on the table in just a santa hat, wearing a bullet ridden elf around his neck and what could only be called a speedo as he smoked a cigar. "I'd say take a seat but as you can all see we have guest tonight" chuckled Bishop as he used his arm to draw attention to the chairs that had the staked heads of elves in them.

"Bishop" started Hank concern for his Presidente all over his face. "Shhhhh. I am Krampus now for the demon elves have spoken. I am to be the new ruler" whispered Bishop as he crouched on the table his eyes wild. "The hell is a Krampus?" asked Coco as he shoved to the front of the group putting his hands on the table. "The punisher of misbehaving fools" snapped Bishop as he lunged at Coco grabbing him by the shirt and shaking him. "Hey" called Angel as he yanked his arm back after Bishop bit him for trying to get Coco away.

"Kneel before me" snarled Bishop as he shoved Coco away baring his teeth at everyone. "I'm going to call his wife" mumbled EZ as he started to grab the door. If anyone could help them reel Bishop in it would be her. "Kneel" shouted Bishop as he launched himself off the table onto EZ's back knocking him down. "The fuck is happening" muttered Angel to Gilly as the others worked to restrain Bishop who was failing and trying to bite. "I think we pushed him to far" replied Gilly as he looked at his friend.

The power going out brought silence to Templo for a few minutes. "It is time" stated Bishop as a dim red light came from the ceiling and the sound of wind began as well as eerie giggles. "The door is locked" called Coco his voice full of panic as the light got brighter and the wind louder. "Time for my elf army to claim their true vessels" stated Bishop as he appeared in front of Angel with a knife before grabbing Hank and slicing his throat. "No" yelled Angel as he grabbed at Bishop. "These were just pranks" screamed Gilly as he grabbed Hanks' body as it fell drenching him in warm liquid. "Krampus knows no pranks just resurrection" laughed Bishop as he stabbed Angel with the knife. "No" screamed EZ as Angel mumbled something but didn't fall down. "Lights Coarzon" yelled Bishop after a few minutes of confused silence interrupted by laughter from Hank, Coco and Guero.

"Boy the looks on your faces" chuckled Hank as the lights came back on. "What" stated Gilly as Angel and EZ just looked around bewildered. "I told you boys I was off limits. let this be a lesson" stated Bishop as he shrugged before walking out of Templo laughing.

#ravennasmasterlist #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #obispo bishop losa #bishop losa fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagines #mayans x reader #mayans fx #angel reyes fanfic #gilly lopez mayans #ez reyes #bishop mayans

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fanficimagery · 2 years

Text

Roger, Roger

When one of the females gets too clingy and can't take a hint, Coco calls in backup.

Words: 3.2K Author's Note: Surprise! No one really wanted to read this one, so I figured I’d just get it out of the way.

I'm not sure where Coco grew up, so I'm just gonna say he grew up in Las Vegas. Trigger warning for violence? I don't know. I can't write fight scenes, but I tried.

Coco sits at a table, picking at the label on his beer bottle as Mya drones on and on next to him. She'd been new to the clubhouse, bright-eyed and eager to please any man in a kutte, and he'd made the unfortunate mistake of sleeping with her a little over a week ago. Most women knew the drill, never seeking out a second encounter unless the Mayan sought her out, but not Mya.

Apparently, she couldn't take a hint like everyone else.

"So, I was thinking that if the boys don't need you tomorrow night, you can take me on a date," Mya says. Her hand lands on his thigh under the table, sliding upward. "You know how much I wanna climb onto the back of your bike."

Coco reaches under the table, grasping her hand. "No," he says as he shoves her hand away.

"Coco!" Mya stands, stomping her foot in a huff. "We've been dating-"

"We're not fuckin' dating!"

She gasps at his explosive response, completely oblivious to those in the clubhouse who've stopped what they were doing in order to pay attention to them. Her expression morphs from one of shock to utter rage within seconds and she grabs up her glass of beer, tossing the liquid into his face. "You need to get your priorities straight, Coco! I'll see you tomorrow and your attitude better be well adjusted or this-" she practically screams at him, gesturing wildly between the two of them, "is over!"

As she stomps off, Coco angrily swipes the beer off his face and slicks back his hair. Laughter erupts behind him as hands clamp down on his shoulders and he rolls his eyes as Angel steps aside to pull out the chair next to him. "Fuck off, Angel."

"Bro, what the fuck?" He continues to laugh as Bishop takes a seat across the table from them, shaking his head in amusement. "I thought you had that shit handled?"

"Pendeja doesn't know how to take a hint." Coco takes a sip of his beer, letting his anger fester. "I was moments away from clockin' her."

"We don't hit women," Bishop reminds him.

"I think we can make an exception just this once."

Angel laughs at how worked up his brother is.

"No." Bishop's answer is final. "If you want her truly gone, get one of the other females to take care of it."

"And risk them getting infatuated with our little Coco," Angel muses. "He'll be starting from square one all over again, Bish."

Coco remains silent, pondering his next course of action. "What if I get an outsider to do it?"

"Female?" Bishop wonders.

"Yeah." Coco sips his beer. "Got a friend in Vegas. She's kind of protective, but won't start shit unless she knows I can't handle it myself."

"You tapped that?" Angel asks, but his brother merely scoffs, shaking his head. He grins as he tries to ruffle Coco's hair. "I didn't know Coco Puff needed a bodyguard."

"Fuck off, man. She grew up in the system. Had a tough childhood, so we bonded over dumb shit before I split for the Marines. She's basically my sister."

"A sister we never met?" Bishop arches an eyebrow at him.

"She's got her own shit going on." Coco shrugs. "She knows about the club, but never really had time to make the drive down here."

"Call her. I need to meet this girl," Angel says. "Party's tomorrow so we know Mya's gonna be in top form."

Coco looks at Bishop and his president shrugs. "Handle your shit without laying hands on a woman. Call your girl in if you have to."

Finishing off his beer, Coco sets the empty bottle aside before bringing out his phone. He taps away at his screen before finding what he wants, and then puts his phone on speaker before setting it down on the table. It rings and rings, and then.."

"Johnny!"

He grins at her excited greeting. "Hey, 'mana, you busy?"

"For you? Never. What's up?"

"There's a female here at the club who can't comprehend I ain't interested. I wanna lay hands on her, but-"

"Let me guess, el presidente said no?"

"Bish said no," he chuckles.

"So what do you need from me? Want me to dig up some dirt? Slash some tires? Pour sugar into her gas tank?"

"Jesus Christ," Angel murmurs, stifling his laughter.

"I need you to be at the party and throw hands if it comes down to it."

"Oohh. Tempting."

"Free drinks all night."

"Even more tempting."

Coco sighs. "I'll throw in a slice of cheesecake."

"Make it a whole strawberry cheesecake and I'll pack a bag and start driving right now."

"Fine, fatass. Just get here in time for the party."

"Don't fat shame me, 'mano, or I'll tell your stage five clinger that you're just playing hard to get and leave you to defend yourself."

"Puta."

"You know it. Love 'ya, Cruz. I'll be there tomorrow to collect that cheesecake."

When you pull up to the Romero Brothers Scrap and Salvage yard, a man stops you at the gate and then directs you where to park when you mention you're looking for Johnny Cruz- or Coco as they know him.

The clubhouse where the Mayans congregate looks exactly like Johnny explained to you once upon a time. There is a row of motorcycles parked nearby, but you make sure to park away from them to lessen the chance of accidentally knocking one over. It's happened before, thankfully not to an MC member, and the rider was pretty pissed. You can only imagine how an actual MC member would react to their precious bike taking a tumble.

As you exit your vehicle and stretch your limbs, the clubhouse door opens and out step several men and what appears to be a teenager. Coco appears at the back of the crowd and hops down the steps, intent on meeting you halfway. He smirks as he nears and you can't help but laugh as you throw your arms wide and embrace your childhood friend.

"Holy shit, Cruz! It's been a minute." As you pull back from the hug, your hands reach up to grasp at his hair as you look him up and down. "See, I told you you'd look hot with long hair."

He laughs as he steps back. "Still blunt as ever, I see."

"Always." Your eyes dart to the men and the girl now waiting at the bottom of the steps to the clubhouse. "Now introduce me to your brothers. If you had told me they were this hot, I'd have come a lot sooner."

"Please don't bang my brothers."

"I won't." You laugh. "But I will ogle because holy shit."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on." Coco leads you to his brothers and introduces the ones who'd come out- Bishop, Angel, Creeper, and EZ. Then he walks over to the teenager who doesn't know what to make of you and slings an arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to his side. "And this little ball of attitude of Letty. My daughter."

It takes a moment for his words to sink in and when they do, your eyes widen. "Daughter?" Your gaze darts between the two of them in surprise and you finally see her facade crack as she slowly grins. "Holy shit! You had a mini you?!" You reach forward then, grabbing the girl and tugging her closer to you before forcing her into a hug. As you hold her with one arm, you point threateningly at the men. "I only had mini-Cruz for a hot minute, but I will protect her with my life." The girl laughs against you and then you pull back a bit, looking her in the eye. "If anyone tries to fuck with you, they gotta go through your new tia YN."

"Sure thing, tia."

"Aw. You're definitely a Cruz. I'd know that attitude anywhere."

"Alright," Coco sighs. "Can we go inside now? You need to rest up before Mya gets here and tries your patience."

"Uh huh. And do you have the payment?"

"EZ's got the cheesecake in the cooler."

"Awesome. Let's get inside then. I need to collect myself before I gotta put the sucia in her place."

You release Letty to go back to your vehicle, grabbing your bag from the backseat before heading into the clubhouse alongside Coco. The inside is not as big as you were expecting, but it's the perfect place to hang out for select individuals. The ones you previously had been introduced to go their separate ways as Coco introduces you to a few new individuals. Then when they all know who you are and what you mean to Coco, you're led to a back room where you can rest before you have to freshen up for the party.

. .

Later on, when the sun's gone down and the clubhouse becomes even more livelier, you jump in the shower. You dress in a rock band tee that's one size too small, its sleeves and about four inches of the bottom half of the shirt missing. You pull on a pair of jean shorts and a pair of very worn in Doc Martens, and then tie your hair up in a ponytail to keep your hair out of your eyes.

A knock on the door sounds just as you reach for the doorknob, and you open up with a smile. Letty's on the other side, grinning as she holds a plate of cheesecake. "Coco said to bring this in hopes of bribing you out of the room."

"I was already on my way, but thanks." You take the plate of cheesecake from her, grabbing the fork and taking a bite of the cream cheesy goodness. "Mmm. God, I love this stuff."

"I can see that." Letty gestures towards the hallway behind her. "Mya will be here soon. I never liked her. She didn't seem too impressed when she found out Coco had a daughter."

"Well now I dislike her even more," you muse. "Lead the way, favorite niece o'mine."

Letty smiles as she does as she's told. You follow her, finishing off your slice of cheesecake in record time and hand the plate off to some female behind the bar who seems to have just swapped duties with EZ for the rest of the night.

The table Letty leads you to is already occupied by Angel, Coco and Creeper. EZ brings a round of beers for everyone, except for Letty, and takes a seat with all of you.

"So how is it that a girl like you calls Coco her best friend?" Angel wonders.

"What do you mean by a girl like me?"

"Look at you, you're hot!" He exclaims. EZ snorts as Coco and Creeper shake their heads in amusement at their brother. "You could pass for a hookup, but a best friend? Nah, I don't see it."

"Well, see it." You chuckle. "Coco and I have been friends for as long as I can remember."

Creeper glances between you and Coco. "The two of you had to have hooked up in the past."

"Why are you guys so adamant that we hooked up?"

"You guys don't know YN like I do," Coco says as he takes a drink of his beer. "She was really crazy back then. I am man enough to admit that I wouldn't have been able to handle her as a hookup when we were younger."

"Aw. That was the sweetest thing you ever said about me," you coo, "but I was not crazy."

"Yeah, you were, mujer. Do you or do you not remember when I had to rush to the club and pick your ass up before the cops showed because you stabbed a guy?"

Your mouth instantly falls open to defend yourself, but you end up shrugging. "That guy should have walked away when he had the chance."

"You didn't have to stab him," Coco muses.

"You weren't there. You didn't hear what he said to me!"

"What- what did he say?" Angel asks, eyes sparkling in amusement already.

"What are you gonna do? Stab me?"

EZ is the first to laugh, the rest of the men following behind him. Letty is the only one who shrugs. "Yeah, that's fair."

"See!" You point at Letty. "She gets it."

"That's because she's exactly like you were when we were teens."

"And that's why you're now my favorite Cruz," you say, slinging an arm around her shoulders and holding her close.

Angel watches the two of you, eyes narrowing slightly. "You two aren't allowed to be alone together. Ever."

You and Letty simultaneously smirk as the men shiver, and then Coco decides to divulge more of your past. You throw in your own two cents here and there, so they don't think you were the only out of control teenager. Coco had his moments too, but most of the time it was him pulling you out of some dumb situation you put yourself in.

You're barely on your second beer, having relaxed and forgetting all about why you're really there, when EZ's lips quirk into a grin. "Trouble just walked through the door."

Coco tenses in his seat and you eagerly glance around to see who it is that's causing your friend so much trouble. The girl that's standing closest to the door and looking around for someone is obviously beautiful, and you can see why Coco went for her. But the sequined mini dress and the too tall stilettos have no place in a biker clubhouse, and the moment her eyes land on Coco, you know the night just took a turn for the interesting.

"Oohh. She's pretty," you muse. "You need to work on that radar though, Cruz, because I can smell the psycho all the way from over here. I don't know how you missed it."

"He was too worried about getting laid to see it," Angel mutters.

You can only smile, keeping an eye on the woman apparently named Mya as she makes a beeline for the table you're sitting at. Creeper and Letty are the only two capable of keeping their expressions schooled whereas Angel and EZ are already grinning. Coco heaves a long-suffering sigh and you can't help but snicker as he kicks you under the table.

"Hey, baby," Mya coos, her hand landing on his shoulder before sliding down and across his chest as if claiming him in front of everyone. "Are you in a better mood tonight?"

Coco shrugs her off, staring up and glowering at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"W-What?" She tenses. Her eyes subtly widen before she pouts. "I just thought we could have some fun tonight since you boys don't seem too busy."

"Well you thought wrong, mujer. Now get the hell out of here."

You're watching the girl as her expression flickers from hurt to anger and you subtly scoot your chair back. You catch Letty and EZ's eye on either side of you, motioning for them to do the same because one wrong move on Mya's part and you were throwing yourself across the table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Her voice rises and you clench your jaw when you notice those closest to your group start paying immediate attention. One hand goes to her hip, but the other she uses her pointer finger to press against Coco's temple and shove his head to the side. "You can't just fuck me and toss me out like last night's garbage."

The amusement instantly drains from your expression. "Watch it, niñita," you call out, relaxed in your seat but ready to fly off the handle if necessary. "Coco might not lay hands on you, but I sure as hell will."

Mya scoffs when she looks at you. "You're not gonna do shit, new girl. Coco's my man and I'll treat him how I want, when I want."

"The fuck you will!" Letty practically shouts, leaning forward in her seat. You catch her by the shoulder though, pulling her back into her seat. She glances at you; furious you would keep her from defending her father.

Mya's gaze darts between you and Letty, and smirks when you turn your attention back to her. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

She goes to shove Coco again and between one blink and the next, you're launching yourself across the table. Angel, Creeper and Coco shove their chairs back with a shout, and you manage to grasp the neckline of Mya's dress in hand before reeling back with your dominant hand and delivering punch after punch.

She shrieks, attempting to cover her face with one arm and swatting out with her other. Her nails manage to catch your shoulder and neck as she stumbles back and forth in her ridiculous heels, and you take the both of you down when someone shoves you hard in the back. You hear the men shout, but your attention is solely focused on Mya as she shouts and squirms beneath you.

You hit her twice more when someone grabs you by the ponytail, yanking you backwards. You yell out as you scramble backwards, only to have the body at your back suddenly yanked away. When you whirl around, your mouth drops open at the sight of the president of the Mayans standing over some guy on the ground and holding his jaw.

"Get your puta and get the fuck outta my club," Bishop says. "Number one rule is we do not lay hands on a woman."

"But this bitch-"

"Who are you calling a bitch, pinche pendejo?" You stalk up to him, kicking him across the face. You don't knock him out, which is a pity, but you do see his mouth fill with blood. You sneer down at him before marching your way back towards Mya, sneering at her as she scrambles back. "And you!" You grab her by the arm and drag her towards the clubhouse doors. "Consent works both ways. Now get the fuck outta here. I don't want to see your face around here again."

"But you're not even-"

"I said get out!" You shove her towards the door, taking too much delight in the way she trips over her own two feet.

As you watch her and the man who had dared grab you collect themselves and walk out, you keep an eye on them while redoing your own hair. Then when you turn around, you roll your eyes with a laugh as Coco, Angel, EZ, Creeper, Letty, Bishop and several other men applaud you. The other women are looking at you with respect in their gazes and you smile at them, showing them that you're not a total bitch.

"Yeah, yeah. Show's over."

"And that, hermanos, is the girl I grew up with. Only she was a lot more volatile back then," Coco says as you near.

"Whatever. She got off easy. Both of them you did," you grumble.

Angel laughs. "We thought Bishop was going to blow a gasket. The second that puto grabbed you, every man in here lurched forward. Bishop just beat us to the punch."

"Well, I feel honored," you muse. You head back over to the table, laughing as EZ picks up your turned over chair. "Now can someone grab me an ice pack? My hand's starting to hurt."

#mayans gen fic x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #angel reyes #ez reyes #letty cruz #obispo losa #bishop losa #mayans #mayans mc

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