#that is one thing I always worry about. I like explaining how Bishop works and why he thinks the way he does | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yelenasdiary · 2 years

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Hii, hope u feel better soon! Could I request one where Florence is in love with the reader who’s the writer for her new movie but she struggles to admit it to herself until it gets pointed out by one of her costars or like in a game of truth or dare or something.

Game of Confessions

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: A simple game of truth or dare lets Florence open up about her feelings.

|Fluff | 1.3K | Mentions of drinking |

Requests are closed.

AC: Loved this idea!! I hope you enjoy it! X *I had to repost this because I posted it with the wrong request, please forgive lmao*

Being a writer has always been a passion of yours, you’d been writing things here and there since you could remember. So, when you were offered to be the writer for the new Marvel mini-series for Disney + called ‘Bishop Security’ you jumped at the chance. You couldn’t stop smiling when Marvel actually picked up your script and ideas and decided to go with it.

The series focused on the story of Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova so getting to work with not only Marvel, but Hailee Steinfeld and Florence Pugh was blowing your mind. You’d met and worked with Florence once before on another movie but still, you enjoyed being on set day in and day out, watching scenes and listening to script suggestions or writing changes with all the talented people you were working with. It caught your attention that Florence was acting a little different towards you than she usual was, at first it worried you and made you sad thinking that you might have done something wrong, but she assured you that wasn’t the case and that she simply just had a bit on her mind.

“Take a picture Flo, it’ll last longer” Hailee whispered to Florence before handing her the takeaway coffee, “huh? I wasn’t staring” Florence’s eyes quickly moved away from your figure as you were going over the script with the director. “Oh please, you can’t stop staring at her since we started filming” Hailee teased with a soft elbow to the ribs. “We work together, I have to look at her”

“Yeah, look, not drool honey” Hailee chuckled, “come on, we have a scene” she adds before the two walks towards you and the director. “Good morning” you greet both women with a smile, “ready to smash the day?” you add.

“I’m always ready” Florence returned the smile. “That’s what we like to hear” you replied, “We’ve just made some slight changes to the scene if you both want to have a quick run over the script before we start” you suggest. “Absolutely” Florence said taking a look at the new script before walking away with Hailee.

“I’m always ready” Hailee teased once more, “Drop it” Florence chuckled. “You should tell her you like her”

“It’s a bit more than that” Florence mumbled as she read through the changes.

“Wait, what? You’re in love with her? Is that what I’m hearing?” Hailee perked up to Florence’s surprise, “huh? That’s not what I said” her cheeks when red. “Oh you’ve got it bad! How long?”

Florence sighed in defeat, “since we first worked together last year” she admits, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since”

“That’s adorable! But why won’t you tell her?”

“Because she’s her and I’m me, we wouldn’t work…I mean, we would both be away for work and that’s not fair on either of us”

“So? that’s the beauty of love! If it’s meant to be than it’ll find a way to work”

“I don’t know” Florence mumbled with a sigh, “can we just get back to work?” she asked.

Over the last couple of weeks of filming things with Florence got harder, she became distance and not her happy self around you. You were sure you’d done something to upset her by now and asked Hailee for help.

“Oh, trust me, it’s not what you think” Hailee tried to hide her wide smile, “Are you sure? It just feels like I’ve done something to upset her, she’s distant and cold towards me. This isn’t like her. I really just want to make things up to her if I’ve done something to hurt her feelings or made her think less of me” you explain. Hailee panicked slightly with coming up with a good distraction to keep you a peace while Florence had her stressful break down on her feelings. “I’m sure it’s not you, in fact, she’s been like that with me as well. Sometimes work can be a lot, you know, a lot of late nights and stuff. I’ll talk to her” she smiled, her words were enough to lower your worries, “what would be great, thank you and please, if we’re working too much, let us know!” you added before walking to your trailer.

Hailee rushed straight to Florence’s trailer once you were out of sight. “Flo open the door” she said in a huff, “what’s going on?!” Florence opened the door in a worry. “You’ve gotta do something about your little Y/n issue. She’s worried she’s upset you and is asking questions”

“W-what did you tell her?”

“I just said that you’re probably a little stressed with work and that you’d also been distant with me. I had too, she’s upset and worried she’s hurt your feelings or done something to upset you. Just tell her, it’s driving you crazy”

“I know, I know but I just…just leave it with me, I promise ill sort it out” Florence replied, her tone making her words unsure of their meaning.

A couple of more weeks go by, and things have changed slightly between you and Florence, she wasn’t as distant but her conversations with you were kept short and sweet, not to mention she was lacking the eye contact with you.

Once filming had wrapped up, Hailee invited you to a night out for celebration drinks, which you of course agreed to. Being with the cast and crew once last time was special, there were plenty of drinks drank and food shared, the restaurant booked to accommodate the group with a tab that would be paid by Hailee and Florence as a thank you for all the hard work. After a few fun and eventful hours, most of the guest had left to get an early night before flying home or helping to back up the set. It was just you, Hailee, and Florence by the end of the night which led to the three of you playing stupid little games as the group got smaller and smaller until it was just the three of you.

“Okay Florence, your turn!” Hailee smiled before sipping her cocktail, “truth or dare” she adds. Florence smiled, “dare”

“I dare you to confess a secret” Hailee smirked as your eyes looked between the two, Florence’s smile dropped as she knew where this was going, “I don’t think so” she chuckled lightly. “Nope, come on, you said dare and now you have to do it” Hailee said, “it is the rules” you smiled before sipping your own drink. Florence sighed as she chewed her bottom lip and shook her head in Hailee’s direction.

“I don’t have any secrets” she spoke.

“Bullshit!” Hailee shook her head, “just say it would you!” she adds. By now you felt a little suspicious like there was something Hailee knew that you didn’t. Florence downed her drink in a panic before looking at you with a soft smile, “I think you’re beautiful” she complimented to your surprise, “thanks Flo, so are you” you smiled.

“No” she chuckled, “I think…. I, uhm, I”

“Just say it already Pugh!” Hailee nudged.

“Say what?” you frowned slightly.

Florence sighed once more, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I’m in love with you, Y/n” she finally admits, “it’s why I’ve been distant with you…I’m sorry that you thought you upset me, you didn’t…I’m just – “

“Beautiful” you said cutting her off, “you’re beautiful and you’re adorable, why didn’t you just say something?” you asked. Hailee sat back in her seat watching the love story unfold. “Because I didn’t want to scare you” Florence spoke. Without replying, you stood up and walked over to her and slightly lent down cupping her face and smashing your lips onto hers. Hailee gasp at the action, Florence melted into your touch, kissing you back with passion. “W-wow, I wasn’t expecting that” she chucked against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” you replied as she pulled you in for another kiss.

“Looks like my job here is done” Hailee smiled, “I’ll leave you two it” she added walking over to the bar.

“This doesn’t mean you get to skip out on a first date” you smiled once you both pulled away, “I’d love to take you out” Florence returned the smile.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

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iobsessoverfictionalmen · 7 months

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The Sounds of Justice (1)

Warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, non-consensual drugging, descriptions of character death, car crashes, lying, mentions and descriptions of jail, manipulation, guns, yandere themes, mafia AU, mafia Rafael Barba (trust me, he needs the warning), mentions of rape (not to the reader), and unwanted advances (nothing happens to the reader).

Cuban Spanish translations:

descará - good-for-nothing/shameless

No seas pesa’o, mijo - Don't be dramatic, darling.

Mamí - Mum/Mother.

While I can communicate in Spanish fluently, I used a website for the Cuban Spanish.

Chapter 1

“My dear, if you feed us any more I have no doubt that I shall burst.” Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard stated as he and his teammates sat around your dining table.

“Oh my god. This dessert is so good!” Eleanor “Ellie” Bishop groaned appreciatively after swallowing her first bite of tompouce.

Abby clinked her dessert fork against yours, “I couldn’t agree more.”

“You know that I’m particular about what I eat but this isn’t too bad.”

Tim rolled his eyes and swatted Tony on the arm, “If you look hard enough, you’ll find some praise in there somewhere.”

Tony shot Tim an unimpressed look before hitting him up the head.

“How foolish of me to think that you would be grateful to see your teammate after she was undercover for six months and not complain about her cooking for you.” Ziva piped up, glaring at the two men.

“Thank you Ziva. It’s good to know that you and some others appreciate my efforts.”

Ziva inclined her head and Delilah snickered into her food.

“Can I take some of the dessert home?” Jimmy inquired after he finished his plate and put his fork on top of it. “My new neighbours are from the Netherlands and I’d like to do the neighbourly thing and welcome them to the neighbourhood with something from their homeland.”

“That is a wonderful idea Mr. Palmer.”

“Of course you can, Jimmy.” You motioned to the remaining pieces of the cake, “Take as much as you want.”

Your eyes lingered on the one untouched piece of dessert that lay on the counter. Ducky noticed your worried gaze and he reached over the table to pat your wrist, “Jethro is relieved beyond all words that you are safe,” the Medical Examiner reassured you. “He will finish his call and then be back in to enjoy the dessert.”

You managed a smile, “Thanks Ducky.”

There was a clang and you spun around to see Ellie, Delilah, and Torres at the sink. They were all holding dishes except for Torres who was holding one of your tea towels. The three of them were wearing deer in headlights expressions, “We wanted to help. You fed us. It’s the least we could do.” Torres explained.

You shook your head fondly, “I have the best team.”

“Hear, hear!” Abby echoed, raising her fork with the last piece of dessert on it.

Your front door squeaked as your boss, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, re-entered your house. His hair had grown since you had last been in Washington D.C. and a few silver strands hovered next to his piercing blue eyes.

He gazed around the room before he focused on you. There was regret in his eyes as he spoke. Seconds later, you found out why.

“Gear up!” He announced. “An ensign was found just inside the Washington D.C. border underneath a tree.”

Torres put down the dish that he was wiping, “That’s not all, is it?”

“He was a person of interest in a SVU case for the team that operate out of Manhattan.” Gibbs revealed.

Tony blew out an annoyed breath, “And he crossed state lines. Why do they always run?”

Ellie was thinking along the same lines that Tony did, “Since he crossed state lines; that means we need to coordinate with that SVU squad.”

“Regrettably yes.” Tony grimaced.

Ellie held up her hands, “I feel like I’m missing something here,” she confessed. “Why are you acting like collaborating with the SVU squad is a bad thing?”

“It makes things more complicated.” You revealed to her. “Sometimes egos get in the way and it wouldn’t be the first time that we work with a team of cops and one of them has their own agenda.”

“I hope it’s different this time. I mean, we want the same thing that the SVU squad want. Why shouldn’t we be able to work together?”

Ellie’s optimism helped to lighten the atmosphere in the room and you wished with all your heart that she was right. It would be nice to have an open and shut case.

Meanwhile, in Manhattan, Rafael Barba scowled darkly at the phone clenched in his fist. He resisted the impulse to throw the device across the room and break it. His glare remained on his face as his mind ran through possible outcomes and the obstacles they could cause.

“That drug should have incapacitated that traitorous ensign long before he could reach the car! Why didn’t it? Now the descará has drawn attention by crossing state lines and he’ll ruin everything!”

Rafael Barba breathed out raggedly. In his mind, he heard his mother chiding him, “No seas pesa’o, mijo.”

Focusing on his breathing, Rafael felt his heart rate steady, which was a good thing when he considered the fact that he was still in his office. It would not be a good thing if one of the SVU team were to barge into his office as they usually did when they needed something and they saw him looking any less composed than he should be.

He shook his head amused, “Right as always, Mamí. All I need to do is shift the focus of the NCIS team when they arrive. They’re not looking for the murderer of a naval officer, they’re focusing on his victim. Olivia and her squad should keep them fairly busy if I play that angle.”

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apparitionism · 2 years

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Appreciation 4

“All the AUs”... I’ve written a few, and they always make me recall words from Elaine Scarry that I used in an essay about such things a while ago: “Beauty brings copies of itself into being.” An AU is a particular sort of copy, one that may be wildly inflectionary... also I personally prefer AUs, much of the time, because I think Joanne Kelly and Jaime Murray would be well served by appearing together in non-Warehouse contexts that make use of their sparking magic.

This fourth stave of appreciation follows “Architecture,” “Bridge,” and “Worry.”

House

Elizabeth Bishop, “Sestina.” New Yorker 15 Sept. 1956: 46.

With crayons the child draws a rigid house / and a winding pathway.

****

Myka Bering is selling her house. She has lived in it for two years, but it is simply the wrong space, and its wrongness has become too much to bear.

When she conveys her decision to her friend (and real estate agent) Pete Lattimer, he says, with gloom, “And you blame me because I sold you the house in the first place. And because I sold you on the house. Because I said I had a feeling.”

Myka assures him this shouldn’t be his worry; the house just didn’t work out. On the other hand, she doesn’t tell him that she’s disappointed, even though she is. It isn’t that she really believes that any feeling Pete has is really some communication of real meaning, something from elsewhere... but he’s in the past had an uncanny ability to steer himself and his friends toward productive choices.

But, okay, not this time.

Pete concedes it’s a good time to sell: “Hot market,” he tells Myka.

“You just like saying ‘hot,’” she accuses, and he grins.

****

Barely seventy-two hours after he lists the house, he shows up at her door—but she’s trying to stop thinking of it as “her” door—and announces with glee, “You got a love letter.”

She can’t have heard him right. “I got a what?”

“From a buyer. Saying how much they love the house so you should pick their offer. Toldya the market was hot.”

“Is that a thing?” she asks. She certainty didn’t write a letter to the previous owner of this place; everything was very straightforward: offer, escrow, inspection, close.

“Huge thing in markets that are hot.” He repeats it, “Hot hot hot!”, and giggles. “Kind of a sliding scale of realness to ’em though—you get your flippers pretending they’re gonna take such good care of the place all the way to people so, like, heartfelt, you just want to hand over the keys on the spot. Normally I wouldn’t even show it to you.”

“But?”

He shrinks back a little from the threshold, like a cowed vampire. “You’ll hate me, but I got a feeling.”

Myka sighs. “Hand it over.”

“I gotta be up front about this,” he tells her, not quite apologetically. “You’ll get multiple offers. Some’ll be better than this one.”

“Don’t tease me with a feeling and then wimp out. Hand it over.”

“Promise not to blame me if you leave money on the table?”

She laughs. “Are you insane? No.”

“Fair,” he says. He places in her hand a creamy envelope addressed simply to “Myka Bering.” Then he waggles his fingers in goodbye and scoots away, as if the faster he moves, the lesser the consequences.

****

The letter is written in a precise, not-quite-cursive hand.

Dear Ms. Bering,

A letter such as this may be viewed as manipulative, my Realtor tells me; she tells me also, however, that they can succeed in influencing a sale. I do want to influence you, for I would very much like to buy your house. No, I should be more specific: I feel that I need to buy your house, so that my child and I can live in it.

Allow me to explain. My mother, with whom we have lived since Christina was born, passed away some months ago, and due to difficulties with the estate, her house had to be sold. We are thus both contending with loss, but Christina more so than I: not only of her grandmother, but also of her only home.

We’re seeking a bridge—from our previous life to a new one, from grief to... I’d say “acceptance,” but neither of us is yet able to imagine that such a state exists.

And yet in this house—your house—I feel a difference. It may not be the right difference; that, only time can reveal. But Christina asked me, upon walking in, “How does this one make you feel? Do you feel okay?” and I had to acknowledge that I did, while adding a caveat that I was unsure what “okay” meant in the present moment. I asked her the same question, and she answered, “It makes me feel like I know what okay means in the present moment.”

At that, Myka has to stop reading, because it is exactly what she’d hoped for, in this house, and exactly what had eluded her.

That may seem a bit koan-esque, but the fact of the matter is, Christina is seven years old and far wiser than I.

Apparently I needed a seven-year-old around to tell me what was what, Myka thinks.

In conclusion, lest you think my feelings about your house are entirely metaphysical: the kitchen, to my eyes, is a marvel. The available information indicates it is your remodel, and I applaud your choices, as does Christina. She said, and I quote, “I like the stove. It looks new. The right kind of new. Like someday it will be old.”

Forgive me for turning to her words again, but I find them more meaningful than my own, and I hope you will as well. Or is it evidence only of further attempted manipulation?

If so, I hope it works.

Sincerely (if that doesn’t, in context, seem too much of an oxymoron),

Helena Wells

****

Myka calls Pete. “Is the offer reasonable?” she asks. “The one with the letter?”

“I guess. But like I said, you’ll get—”

“Still got your feeling?”

“Why are you making me say it? Yeah, I still got my feeling.”

“Feel anything about my Viking stove?”

“I feel like I was right to tell you to pay through the nose for it when you redid the kitchen, because it fits the architecture so pretty. Better than anything cheaped-out would’ve. I also feel like you used it that one time to cook—well, ‘cook’—that Thanksgiving turkey till we all could’ve used it to play touch football in the backyard and had to order pizza for dinner. And then I feel like you never used it again. I could be wrong, but I hope not.”

Myka would like to be able to be mad at him about the Thanksgiving description, but he’s entirely right. About all of it. “Take the offer,” she tells him. “I think I know why you had your feeling, first about me buying this place and then about the letter: they need this house.”

****

In addition to her little-used (but extremely aesthetically pleasing) Viking stove, Myka leaves for Helena Wells and her daughter another item she hopes will be of interest: the small almanac she discovered in the attic some months after moving in. It belongs to the house, not to her.

It’s a 1911 facsimile of Poor Robin’s almanac, published by Ben Franklin’s older brother James. (Myka of course researched its provenance.) It proclaims itself to be “The Rhode-Island almanack. For the year, 1728. Being bissextile, or leap-year.”

She determines she should leave a note in the homely little book: her own “love letter,” as it were, to the almanac itself, to the house, and to its new inhabitants. She’s not quite sure what to say, given that she doesn’t need to persuade anyone of anything... It’s just a document of existence, she tells herself, so she tries to write some things that are true.

Dear Helena and Christina Wells,

It’s only fair that I answer your letter, given that it’s why you’re here. First, I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m thankful that this house was here when you needed it, certainly at first, and if this letter finds you settled in the way you want to be, I’m of course even happier.

I’m glad also that you’ve now come across this almanac, which has clearly lived in the attic here for some time. It captivated me from the moment I saw it, mostly because its title taught me a new word, and I love anything that can do that.

You’ll notice that the pages are worn. That’s not my doing, but I did think it was a little strange that a reprint, not even the original useful thing, was so handled.

Then again, once you fight through the colonial typography and spelling, there’s a lot of useful guidance. For example, here’s October’s instruction: “Now button your Garments close, for the Cold comes insensibly, and oft times begets a whole Winter’s Cold. Consult your Taylors as well as Physicians.” Which reminds me to warn you—or maybe you’ve already discovered—that even though I added more insulation, there’s some draftiness, so around October, the warmth of your Garments will come to seem pretty important.

There are also some lovely natural-world auguries. Here’s my favorite: “When the Owl scrietcheth in foul weather, it is a Token of fair weather at Hand.” I have to admit I’ve never heard an owl around here, but ever since I read that, I’ve felt myself hoping, when storms come. As they do.

Whatever would signify fair weather for you two, I hope you hear it in this house.

Sincerely,

Myka Bering

P.S. I’m envisioning you using the stove, insofar as I can envision people I’ve never seen, and I think it’s very happy to be used. I think it wants to grow old that way.

****

Some months later, Myka picks up a call from Pete. She lives in an apartment now, a generic space that isn’t right but at the very least isn’t wrong.

“I know you’re sick of hearing this,” he starts, then stops.

“What am I sick of hearing?”

“A feeling...”

Great. Just what she needs. But she’d better let him tell her, or he’ll keep bugging her... either that, or he’ll burst. “Fine. What’s it about?”

“Did you put a note in a place?”

“Did I what?”

“Note. Place. You. Putting.”

“I heard what you said. What are you talking about?”

What follows is a convoluted story of a Realtor who contacted him “because the lady who bought your house found a note that you left and now she wants to get in touch but she thinks that might be intrusive or aggressive or something so she wants to make sure you’re okay with it but anyway what note are we talking about and why do I have this feeling?”

Well. “I don’t know about your feeling,” Myka says. “But I did leave a note. In the almanac.”

“Is that some secret code? Is the note in code? What do you want me to say?”

Myka, who has a feeling of her own, tells him, “I want you to say yes.”

****

In retrospect, her feeling was justified, for when she and Helena Wells met, on the threshold of that house in which Myka felt wrong, they fell into what seemed to be a predestined exchange.

Helena Wells said, “It’s October.”

“Are you keeping your garments buttoned close?” Myka asked.

“On good advice, we are.”

That was all, for their first words, as time slowed... as they both stopped, as if in agreement to be conscious of that slowing, to ponder its meaning, to accept its novelty.

Then, a small voice from behind Helena said, “We made an apple pie.” Then Christina Wells emerged, positioning herself next to her mother, albeit a ghost-width behind.

All three of them in the doorway: waiting. Liminal.

“How’s the stove working out?” Myka asked at last.

“It didn’t burn the pie,” Christina said.

“It would have if I’d made it,” Myka said. “I guess it likes you.”

Christina considered. “Or pie.”

More silence, while two pairs of Wells eyes scrutinized Myka. Inspection. Due diligence. “Any owls yet?” she tried, after a time.

“Maybe,” Christina said.

And Helena said, “Come inside.”

So Myka did.

****

After they had shared apple pie in the kitchen next to the happier stove, after Myka’s time in the house had stretched such that taking her leave felt embarrassingly overdue, after she stood and made I-should-go noises, Helena asked, “Will you come back?”

And Myka once again said yes.

Not twenty-four hours later, she did go back, for Helena texted her: “I want to teach you a new word.”

When Myka arrived, Helena asked, “What were we to listen for the owl to do?”

“Screech,” Myka said.

“That’s the word,” Helena said.

“That isn’t new,” Myka told her. Was that the right thing to have said?

“It is for us.” And Helena took Myka’s hand—not their first touch, but their first to augur of more—and drew her in.

****

Pete’s feelings. How many tears of gratitude has Myka shed for them, for the way they have bestowed such beautiful contours upon her life? Many, but she’ll never tell him; he’d be embarrassed. But she has said the words “thank you” more times than either of them are comfortable with.

She’s said them to Helena too, of course, and even more often.

“It’ll appreciate,” Pete had originally said of the house’s value.

He was right.

END

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Appreciation #House #Bishop's Sestina is a true exemplar of the form #then again anything by Bishop is an exemplar of itself alone #reflecting and embodying her singular gifts #and she'd without question be appalled by my miserable attempt at tribute #anyway the book mentioned herein is real #a fact of which I hope there could be no doubt #beringandwellsappreciationweek #day 4

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ericac318 · 1 year

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An Alternate Universe

Summary:

William Bell has been happily existing in an alternate universe, a universe where he met Aria Keating, the love of his life. His plan is to use Aria to keep tabs on his old partner, Walter Bishop. Things don’t always go to plan though … This is mostly self-indulgent fluff/smut William Bell x OC

Chapter 3

One Year Later …

Aria waltzed into William’s office to find him looking quite frazzled, “What’s wrong?” she asked, unsure of how to help him. Even though their relationship had progressed even deeper after her time away, she was never one hundred percent sure how to read Bell.

He glanced her way, his eyes showing a mixed array of emotions, “Walter came over with Olivia, but he’s been injured. I need to go help Olivia recover her and get them home before these two universes destroy each other,” he explained, attempting to keep his voice calm.

She nodded, “Ok, let’s go find Olivia. You seem to forget that I’m highly trained in field operations. I can only serve as an asset in a situation like this,” she added, her voice filled with pride. It wasn’t often that her skillset was of use to Bell.

“You cannot join me, my dear,” William countered causing her to look at him confused, causing him to elaborate. “My darling, you’re expecting our first child,” he explained, only adding to her bewilderment.

Aria’s eyes grew wide at his statement, “I’m pretty sure I’d know if I was pregnant. I’d definitely know before you did. What’s going on?” she asked, her tone growing shorter with each word.

He shook his head as he glanced down at the floor, showing off his crow’s feet, “My sweet Aria, I have your vitals under constant observation with the bracelet I gifted you many years ago. You aren’t very far along, but I can assure you that you are pregnant,” he added with confidence.

She chose to look past the complete invasion of privacy displayed before her and responded, “Ok, that’s exciting, maybe. I’m really not sure how I feel about what you’ve shared, but regardless, I’m going with you. If I’m not very far along then there can’t be much danger to me,” she added as she crossed her arms, to remind Bell of how often she got what she wanted. Aria was aware that she was somewhat of a brat.

He inhaled through his nostrils before he responded, “Alright, you can join if you insist, but you will agree to be careful?”

“Of course, my love,” she said with an innocent smile as if she’d just been the nicest version of herself instead of the brattiest. “Where do we begin our search for Olivia? I have missed her,” she added, hoping to earn some points back after her tantrum.

Bell shook his head at her sudden feigned innocence, “Walter has been taken to a hospital near the main park. We’ll meet her outside of the hospital before we go inside. I’ll distract the people at the desk so that you and Olivia can free Walter. Does that make sense?” he inquired as he watched her eyeing him in a suggestive way.

“That makes perfect sense,” Aria responded, “How long do we have until we need to leave?”

Bell couldn’t suppress his slight chuckle as he responded to her question, “Not as long as you have in mind, my dear. Come,” he gestured as he reached for her hand to guide her to the hospital he’d mentioned while sharing his plan.

“Olivia,” Aria whispered when she saw her old friend, “Follow us. William is going to distract the front desk so we can get Walter out of here,” she instructed.

Olivia nodded as she followed Aria through the ER back to the bays where patients were held.

Aria couldn’t help but worry about Bell as they found Walter and guided him out of the hospital, in the same way, they’d entered so they could meet Bell in the parking lot as planned.

Their plan worked perfectly and the four found themselves at a KFC where they discussed how to get Walter and Olivia back to their universe.

Walter and Bell sat on one side of the booth while Aria and Olivia took the other.

Aria couldn’t help herself as she ran her foot on Bell’s leg until she reached her target causing him to eye her curiously as he attempted to keep his focus on the conversation.

“So, what we need is a doorstop to hold open the crack Olivia opens?” Bell inquired, amazing Aria with his focus as her toes rubbed the bulge in his black trousers. “Walter, you could build that,” he insisted, “I have a lab here that no one knows about,” he shared as he attempted to remove Aria’s foot from his lap, but he was unable to.

Walter started to list off his issues with Bell’s plan while Aria sped up her assault on her man, enjoying the way he took small sips of his drink to mask his sounds of pleasure.

Aria mouthed to him while the others were lost in their debate, “It’s ok, babe. Let go,” she urged as she sped up her pace even more.

Bell moved forward so he could grasp Aria’s neck and whisper in her ear, “You’re only in your first trimester. What is bringing this on?”

She moved her lips to his ear, sucking his earlobe between her lips, before she responded, “There’s just something so sexy about knowing I can make you cum in a scenario,” she whispered as she felt him twitch against her foot, doing exactly what she wanted. “That’s it, my love,” she added as she moved her lips to his, even among the company, so she could swallow his moans in a kiss.

Once they were done with their meal, Bell drove the group to his secret lab so they could build the doorstop that would help Walter and Olivia get back home.

Walter and Olivia sat in the back while Bell had Aria up front with him. He leaned toward her and whispered, “I trust that you’re going to behave yourself from now on?”

Aria glanced at him, her eyes full of true or feigned innocence, “Of course, my love.”

#fringe #Leonard Nimoy #william bell #original character #original female character #fanfiction #fanfic #archive of our own #established couple #fluff #Smut #self indulgent

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tardexlanoche · 2 years

Text

and number three! here’s to hoping the next one can already be posted on AO3 but in the meantime, enjoy!

—————

“I’m just saying I don’t understand why we have to learn about international relations theory when we’re law students,” Peter whines for what might as well be the fifth time in the last hour. The rest of the table barely listens to his complaining anymore, having gotten used to it in the couple of weeks they’ve known each other.

Wanda - sweet, sweet Wanda - shoots him an understanding, compassionate look, seemingly ready to explain to him again why it’s important for them to know these things, when M.J. decides to cut in, “Maybe because we are studying international law? Now quit pouting and help me understand this neorealism shit.”

Peter shuts up immediately, eyes wide and ear tips pink; Eddie and Kate sharing a knowing grin both silently agreeing to tease him about it later. And Kate can’t help but think of how comforting it is, this feeling of ease and belonging they’ve managed to build in such a short time. Even Yelena seems amused by the whole scene smirking quietly behind her notebook, having decided to grace them with her presence this afternoon.

Yelena. Elusive, enigmatic Yelena.

Out of the little group, she and Bucky are the ones who skip more often their study sessions (comprehensible, seeing the course these seem to take), and their almost regular hang-out meetings after class (less comprehensible - they are pretty fun to be around, Kate considers). Eddie had told them Bucky had always been more of a lone wolf, making it a great deal that he even contemplated joining them sometimes.

And Yelena, well. Yelena was Yelena. But still, Kate wouldn’t complain.

She had come three times this week to study, and had eaten with them yesterday. And they were still texting like, pretty regular. Kate knew now she and Wanda were sharing a small flat, not too far away from her own. She knew her sister Natasha was a lawyer, and a seriously good one considering she was only five years older than Yelena. She knew her favorite meal was mac and cheese - the boxed ones with a lot of hot sauce Kate Bishop, that’s the food of the gods - and she knew her favorite season was winter - who on their right mind enjoys sweating?

Sure, perhaps they couldn’t be considered the closest of friends yet, but she totally counted it as a victory.

“Children, we should get on moving. It’s almost time for Hill’s class,” Eddie says while firing text to someone - probably Bucky -, having given up on the other subject and packed all his stuff a while ago. Kate sighs relieved (she was just pretending to read, really). Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Yelena folding her notes, a content smile on her face.

Another thing Kate had learned from their one on one chats: Human Rights was Yelena’s favorite subject.

Maria Hill was a good professor. At least, she had given her that impression after their first lecture. She also seemed like one of those teachers that would make you sweat blood for a good grade, but those always ended up being the best ones anyways. Even if they scared the shit out of you when they asked a question no one knew the answer to.

“So, I know last week I said you would have to work on a project about whichever subject regarding human rights you chose, but I’ve given it some thought after going through the list of students. Forty-six students, thirty pages per student, makes it almost one thousand four hundred pages for me to read. That’s too much, so -”

“We can make it a fifteen pages essay?” someone among the first row bravely cuts in, probably regretting it the instant professor Hill shoots them a cold, pointed glare. Fifteen pages are out of question, then.

“No. You will write the thirty pages, Willson. But you’ll do it in pairs, that way we’ll cut my work in half. And yours, too,” she adds as an afterthought, though clearly, that wasn’t her main worry, “And before you start mumbling among yourselves to see who you’ll work with, don’t. I’ll be pairing you in alphabetical order, that way it will be easier to grade for me.”

Kate starts going through the names of her classmates thinking perhaps she’ll have to work with Bucky, what with James’ jay being the closest letter she can find to her kay. Except maybe he gets paired with someone above him in that list, and I’m pretty sure there’s a John around here, too, so he would actually be below him and -

“Allan, you’ll work with Andrews,” professor Hill’s voice cuts through her mental reasoning, her eyes opening in surprise. Okay, so it’s last names then, “Atwood, with Barnes. Belova, you get Bishop. Brock, you go with Calderon -”

Kate stops hearing anything after that.

Belova, that’s Yelena’s last name. And Bishop is hers. Belova, you get Bishop. So that means...

She dares to cast a glance to her left, green eyes already looking at her three seats away. Yelena lifts her hand and smiles, twirling her finger and mouthing a later to her before looking up front again. Kate just nods because really, what were the odds of her getting paired up with the girl who’s been on her mind since she first laid eyes on her?

“Fucking lucky, that’s what you are,” Peter whispers next to her, elbow digging softly on her side, thumbs up in a failed attempt at being discreet. Kate slaps at his hands but laughs anyway. Peter is the only one whom she’s told about her little crush on their blonde friend, having pried without much effort the truth from Kate when he caught her smiling down at her phone like a lovestruck teenager. In her defense, Yelena had just sent her a picture of Fanny in a cute green jersey writing We match! right below. But he only got to tease her about it in private, because Kate in return didn’t complain about hearing all about M.J.’s awesomeness every single day. At least not much.

“Okay, class. This is due in three weeks, you’ve got the rest of this period free to talk with your partner about the subject you’d like to choose. Once you have it, please send me an email so I can make sure none of you work on the same topic. If you have any questions, I’m always available,” and with that, professor Hill put on her coat and leaves, a wake of murmuring trailing after her. So much for being available thinks Kate to herself eying the door. But then she feels a soft tap on her shoulder and all thoughts leave her mind.

“Hello, partner,” a husky voice says from behind, making her turn around with a big grin plastered on her face, “Hiya, partner,” she says back to Yelena, who looks almost as happy as Kate is with this arrangement. Totally a victory, too.

“Do you want to go somewhere else to talk about our theme?” and truly, she would say yes to absolutely everything this girl proposed. Kate just nods, picking up her things and making room for Yelena to go first, following dutifully after her. They leave their classroom and the building too, start walking in the direction Yelena always disappears once class ends. She thinks fleetly that they didn’t even say goodbye to their friends, but that thought disappears when she figures Yelena is leading them to her apartment.

“So... Is there something you’d be especially interested in for this essay?” she says after a couple of minutes walking in comfortable silence. Yelena cocks her head to the side, seemingly in deep thought, “Well, I’d like to write about slavery. Child labor, perhaps,” and Kate swears there’s some vulnerability in her voice, but it’s gone as fast as it appeared, “But we have to choose together, you have to like the subject, too.”

“Oh, I’m down with whatever you want, I know this is your favorite subject. Child labor is a heavy topic, but one of the most relevant, too,” she answers truthfully. Yelena shoots her a smile, dimples all out - the first one that’s exclusively for her - and Kate has to hide her face in her scarf to not seem all that flustered.

When they reach out the stairs of the apartment, a thought pops up on Kate’s mind immediately, “Oh my god, am I going to meet Fanny?” she practically squeals delighted, as if she were to meet her idol. Yelena laughs, a deep full-body laugh, and fuck if that’s not the most beautiful sound ever, “Yes you are, Kate Bishop. Let’s see what my baby thinks of you!”

Kate doesn’t get to set both feet on the carpet when a huge fluffball throws itself on her legs, Yelena saving her from falling flat on her ass with strong arms around her shoulders. But Kate doesn’t have time to dwell on the feeling of being so close to the other girl because Fanny is nipping at her pants, whining to get attention, so she dutifully kneels down to scratch the Akita behind her ears, letting her lick at her hands gleefully.

“Well, that was a triumph if I ever saw one,” Yelena comments, apparently impressed by her dog’s greeting of their guest. Kate girns smugly up at her, “You should not underestimate me, Belova. I am practically the dog whisperer,” and maybe that was a dorky thing to say but it makes the other girl cackle again, so.

“Yeah, no shit. That dog barely tolerated me when she got her.”

Suddenly the room turns silent, Yelena’s face suddenly dropping all the mirth from her expression, stiffening. Kate stands up and steps closer to her friend, not really sure about what’s happening but sensing her unsettlement. A redhead woman who’s totally not Wanda is leaning against the kitchen door, the clinking of the spoon stirring whatever’s on the mug she’s holding the only sound on the room.

“Natasha, what are you doing here?”

Oh, so she’s Natasha. That would explain the amazingly good looks, their parents must be some sort of Russian demigods. She’s about to say as much when the older woman doesn’t respond, to try and ease the tension, but Natasha beats her to the punch, “I needed to pick up the folders I left here last Sunday,” she answers easily, clearly unbothered by her sister’s staredown.

“And you decided to have a coffee before leaving?”

“Tsk, don’t be ridiculous, Lena,” Natasha says humorously shaking her head, “I don’t drink coffee after midday, this is tea.”

Kate manages to hold her chuckle in - thankfully, because she is pretty sure Yelena would not appreciate it-, but the truth is this woman doesn’t seem all that bad. Sure, don’t judge a book by its cover and all that (and if Yelena is upset with her she surely must have her reasons) but Kate likes to think she has a good sixth sense when meeting people, and Natasha seems pretty nice.

“Great, I hope you enjoyed it. Now if you have everything you need, please leave. We need to start working on something,” and Yelena leans a little closer to Kate, probably unconsciously, but it’s enough for the brunette to understand that she wants this to be over as soon as possible.

Natasha on the other hand seems to have other ideas in mind, “Yelena, we both agreed we need to talk. Communicate, try to understand each other,” she sighs, defeated, “Wanda texted me to say she wouldn’t be here until later this evening. That’s why I dropped by, to see if we could have a minute. Maybe we can try again another day,” she intends to make it a statement, but it comes up more as a doubtful question.

Yelena purses her lips, her characteristic frown firm in place, but she nods her chin ever so slightly, “Yes, another day.”

That seems to be as good as Natasha’s going to get today and she knows it, so she smiles at her sister sadly while putting on her coat, “Well, I better get going then. It was nice to meet you…”, and Kate is so stunned by this woman’s effortlessly coolness that she almost forgets her own name when she addresses her.

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena thankfully supplies for her, her name rolling out her tongue easily by now.

“Kate Bishop, huh,” she parrots back, cocking an eyebrow at her sister before looking back at her, “I’ve heard your name pop up these pasts weeks when I’ve been around. Now I’ve got a face to match.”

“Natasha,” and Kate shouldn’t find that warning growl as hot as she does, mostly because this is not the best moment, but sue her, she’s only human.

Meanwhile, the recipient of the scowl doesn’t seem affected at all, “I’m Natasha Romanoff, Yelena’s sister. As I said, it was a pleasure to meet you, Kate. I hope we see each other again soon,” and with a tight handshake she blows a kiss to Yelena and disappears swiftly behind the door. Kate doesn’t even get to reply.

Yelena collapses onto the couch heaving a sigh, face hiding between her fingers. Kate feels a little lost but decides to act as she would with any other friend, sitting next to her and placing a comforting hand at the small of her back, “So that was your sister.”

For a moment she worries she might have said the wrong thing feeling Yelena go taut under her touch, but it only lasts a second. All the fight drains from her petite body, her weight slumping on the back of the couch, effectively trapping Kate’s hand there. She nods wearily, “Yeah, that was Natasha. I’m sorry you had to see all that, I didn’t know she’d be here” she apologizes, looking at Kate straight in the eyes.

Kate starts moving her hand up and down her back mindlessly while shaking her head, “Hey, no. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I told you, I’ve had my fair share of family feuds. There’re few things that can scare me off anymore.”

And for all her blabber tendencies, Kate seems to be managing to say what Yelena needs to hear, so she pushes on, “I know we don’t know each other all that well yet, but I really meant it when I said I was willing to listen if you ever want to talk.”

Yelena gazes at her with an emotion Kate has trouble naming, but guesses it was a good thing when the girl’s forehead falls to her shoulder briefly, hand squeezing her knee in thanks. It feels a lot like a promise.

Kate is still processing the spark she felt ignite low on her belly with that touch when a thought suddenly catches up to her, “Did your sister say her last name was Romanoff? Is she married?”

Yelena seems to be caught off guard by the question, her eyes skittishly avoiding hers. She worries she may have overstepped whatever imaginary boundaries they were threading on, apology ready on her lips, when the older girl straightens her back and answers, “No, she’s not married. We don’t share last names.”

She gets up from the couch, extending a hand to help Kate stand, and wanders into the kitchen without further elaborating. Kate follows her instinctively, stoping at the exact same door Natasha was leaning in a few minutes ago. Yelena makes herself busy by getting glasses out of the cupboard and filling them with water, the sound of the drops hitting the cristal surface the only noise besides their breaths.

She passes one to Kate and takes a drink from her own, hip bent against the counter, “We’re adopted, so we are not blood-related. And we, we were adopted when - we weren’t…” she stumbles over her own words, something Kate has never witnessed before, “We were old enough to have last names of our own, and they - mama and papa - first took us in as foster care parents, so they didn’t change them. And then time passed, and it stopped being important.”

Kate suddenly images a younger version of her friend, hair in pigtails and mouth covered in chocolate, calling her parents mama and papa. Her heart turns to mush.

“But she has always been there, you know? We literally grew up together,” Yelena continues, and if there is wetness in her eyes when she looks up, neither of them mentions it, “She was there since before I can even remember, probably the only constant in my life. My only family, for a pretty long time,” she ends nodding to herself, a little lost on her own head but apparently satisfied with her final explanation.

Green meets blue, then, and Kate sees uncertainty lying underneath her eyes, probably wondering what she thinks about everything she has told, what she thinks of her now. She gets closer to her and gently lays her hand on top of Yelena’s, gently grasping it, “That sounds a lot like true love to me. Blood doesn’t always give you that,” she ducks her chin making sure to speak eye to eye, smiling tenderly, ”Blood doesn’t always mean family.”

Yelena seems to have been stunned into silence, gaze fixed at her with her head tilted to the side and eyelashes still wet with unshed tears Kate really wishes she could wipe. When the blonde’s fingers interlock with hers she thinks that’s good, too. “I think that was the best way anyone has ever responded when I’ve told them about being an orphan,” emotion clogs at her voice, but Kate gets what she’s trying to say anyway.

Thank you.

Yelena didn’t deepen about their life before the adoption and Kate didn’t push, because even someone completely oblivious would have sensed that was a very sensitive matter for the older girl. And Kate wasn’t completely oblivious, mind you.

They stand there, holding hands on the marble counter, neither of them willing to move. After a while, though, Yelena looks as if she was getting too drowned in her memories, so Kate decides to take over.

“Penny for your thoughts?” mumbles gently the brunette, both curious and eager to keep the conversation going.

“I was just wondering… You’ve said you’ve had family problems too, before. Were they also coming from an annoying sibling?”

Fair question. After all, if she wants honesty Kate supposes she has to give something in return. More so considering everything the other girl has shared. She takes a deep breath looking up at Yelena, ready to expose one of her most private wounds, “No, I’m an only child. But my dad passed when I was twelve, since then it was always me and my mom. And we don’t exactly see eye to eye… I was closest with him, I guess.”

It amazes Kate how, even after almost ten years, her eyes would still get moist just with the mention of her dad.

She voices her musing out loud and Yelena just holds her hand tighter, “I don’t believe that’s a bad thing. Or weird. That time heals everything shit is… bullshit,” she whispers confidently, managing to make Kate chuckle with her philosophical conclusion wrapped in a beautiful accent, “It makes things bearable, but it will probably always hurt a little, and that’s okay. You are allowed to feel that.”

It’s in that exact moment that Kate realizes she might be actually talking about her father’s death with someone who was as close to getting it as anyone had ever been in her life. Obviously, hers and Yelena’s were completely different stories, but the shared knowledge of love and loss was there.

And if Kate wasn’t impossibly drawn to this girl before, well. She was a goner now.

#yelena x kate #kate x yelena #bishova #marvel #hawkeye #black widow #black widow 2021 #hawkeye 2021 #mcu #fanfic #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kate bishop

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mayans-sauce · 3 years

Text

Break Up, Make Up (1/3)

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, angsty af to begin with! Mention of Riz being dead, break up, cursing, it gets a little bit physical but it’s barely, a little bit smutty

Based on this request from anon Bishop please!! He did the dumb thing and broke up with you to protect you but then he's watching you pack your stuff up and he can't go through with it and apologises and.... Smut! 🔥🔥🔥 but I did change some things up so I hope that’s alright!

A/N: Part 1 of this Bishop fic I’m working on. I promise that part 2 will be heavy with smut! Hope you all enjoyed❤️

• Part. 2 • Part. 3

GROUP CHAT for updates!

▪️Main Masterlist▪️Bishop Masterlist▪️

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“So it’s not me? It’s you? Huh, Bishop? Really? That is so cliche!”

You and Bishop had a heated argument in Templo. You weren’t sure how it started because one minute, it looked like it was all fine, and the next minute you were fighting and breaking off your relationship.

You had come over to check on him since he had been so distant lately after Riz’s death. He hadn’t been himself lately, especially not with you, and he showed it by not answering your calls or not coming home when he was supposed to. You figured that he just needed some time after the loss of his brother, but you were concerned and worried about his well-being, so you came over to check on him.

When you walked into Templo, he was all alone. The lights were dimmed; the only source of light was his cigarette in his mouth that lit up his face, a glass of whiskey in the other one.

He hadn’t heard you come in, his mind deep in thoughts about whatever was bothering him. “Bishop?” His head perked up at the sound of your voice, a small smile on his face that quickly dropped to the one he had before just moments ago. “Can I… come in?” You were still standing at the door, not sure if he wanted you to come in or not. “Of course,” his voice was a little hesitant, but you were glad that he accepted the invite.

You stood by his side, a hand was laid on one of his tense shoulders, “Is everything alright?” He didn’t say anything; he just signaled you to sit on his lap. You did so, and your arms went around his neck as one of his arms curled around you. The sides of your heads resting against one another as you took in the sound of each other’s even breaths and the faint noise from outside the room.

Nothing was said for a while, and everything felt fine and dandy until he spoke words that you would have nightmares about.

“I think we should break up…” That took you off guard. It looked like everything was okay now with you two softly cuddling together. Why did he say that?

“Wh-what?” Both of your hands were on his chest to pull you away a little to get a good look at him. “Wh-what are you saying, Bishop?” He made you get up so he could stand as well, standing at opposite sides of his chair.

“We should break up Y/N. I’m not… good for you… I can’t take care of you. I can’t protect you. You will end up hurt in the end or even worse dead if you stay by my side… like Riz.”

“Bullshit Bishop,” anger in your voice as you spoke, arms crossed in annoyance, “Riz knew what he signed himself up for when he joined the club; all of them did, I did as well when I decided to be with you. I know the risks of being involved in the club, and I don’t care. That is my own risk to take, and I won’t think twice about it if that means that I get to be with you.”

He let you have this little rant, not saying anything, just listening to you as he always did when you spoke. He respected your words, and he would never talk over you until you finished.

“Sweetheart, I… still think we need to break up. I love you. I always have, and I always will, and this has nothing to do with you as a person because you are just so… fuck… so wonderful, caring, and the most beautiful woman on this planet, but I don’t deserve you; I’m not good for you. I won’t corrupt you with my life in the club; I just can’t.”

He had no emotion on his face as he spoke. That was his way of trying to hide how he felt. He was angry and heartbroken on the inside, but this felt right in his heart. It felt right to let you go so that you would be safe and protect from him and the club, even if letting you go gave him enormous pain and suffering.

“So it’s not me? It’s you? Huh, Bishop? Really? That is so cliche!” Now you were almost screaming, not caring that the rest of them were just right outside those doors. “Please, Bishop,” your voice was just a whisper now, sad and innocent as you tried your best to persuade him into thinking more about this haste decision, “please don’t leave me.”

“I-I’m sorry querida… this… I just…” he couldn’t get his words out; they were too painful to utter. His head was now down in shame at the pain he had inflicted upon you. When he finally looked up at you, into those eyes that had him fall in love with you all over again, but they weren’t happy and cheerful like they always were when you looked at him. Tears were falling, and they looked hurt and empty.

“Y/N I-“ you cut him off, you didn’t want to hear any more from him, “I think I’ve heard enough Bishop… I’ll leave now… goodbye.” You just wanted to leave as soon as possible, not hearing his pleas for you to stay so he could explain himself.

Bishop didn’t register what had just happened until the sound of the Templo door closed. Only then did he realize how much he had fucked up and how much he regretted what just happened. He needed you in his life. He would always need to have you there by his side to love and comfort him, even when he was such a dick. Bishop knew he had fucked up big time. All you wanted was to try and help him in this challenging situation.

Coming home to your shared house, the first thing you did was find your suitcase to pack. All of your belongings wouldn’t fit into one, but for right now, you just packed a few clothes and such. You would need to agree with Bishop to pick the rest of your things another time, but the pain and hurt to be in your house with all the memories you created were too much, and you just needed to get out of there as fast as you could.

Amid your packing, you heard the front door open and close, heavy and rushed footsteps that belonged to no other than Bishop coming closer to your shared room. The door burst open, and he was met with you packing the last few things before you closed it and got up to stand. “I’m leaving.”

“Y/N I-“ “I’ll see you soon, Bishop.”

You quickly went to the front door, ready to get out of that house. Bishop was hot on your tail. He needed to fix this; he just needed to. He couldn’t lose the only thing in life that meant so much to him. He called your name again and again as you went through the house to the door.

“What, Bishop?” You finally answered; your body turned towards him just as you were about to open the door.

“Please don’t leave! Please baby! I-I didn’t mean any of those things! I didn’t know what got over me.”

He would expect you to forgive and forget as easy as it was to breathe, but you wouldn’t let him have that. He hurt you badly, and the words he said did have some truth to it.

“You hurt me, Bishop, do you know that? I just… can’t forgive so easily… I just need to get out of here for a while. Maybe we both need some time apart before we continue this.” You felt bad about leaving him while he was still grieving the loss of Riz, but he wouldn’t accept your reassurance and comfort, so in your mind, you thought that it would be best to leave him for a while so he could take it at his own pace, and when you were both ready again you would make this work.

“Goodbye, Bishop,” and with that, you were out the door.

————

It had been a few days after you had left your shared home. Coco and Letty had been so kind to let you stay with them while you worked shit out. You hadn’t heard anything from Bishop personally, but Coco came home with updates for you. Bishop was sad, angry, and snappy at all of them. It didn’t sound like he was getting better with you gone, and after a few days, you realized that it was a mistake that you left.

That’s when you decide to go back to the house and talk with him, work out how you would move forward. Upon arrival, the place was dark, and it looked like no one was home. When you entered the front door, a strong smell of cigarettes could be felt in your nostrils. It was a sign that he indeed was here. Following the scent into the living room, you found him on the sofa with smoke in hand. The room was dark except for a lamp in the corner that gave off a faint light.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” he spat out after taking a long drag from the smoke. Brought back a little, you blinked your eyes rapidly a few times to get your bearings.

“Nice to see you, Bishop,” you answered sarcastically while your arms crossed and you propped your hip.

“You left me, didn’t you, so why the fuck are you back?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and how he was acting.

“You didn’t answer my calls when I tried to reassure and comfort you when… he died,” you didn’t dare say his name in case it triggered something in Bishop, “and then you talk about wanting to break up with me? I just thought you needed some time Bishop and besides, you hurt me with what you said. I came back now to work something out, but I can clearly see that you don’t want me here. So I’ll just leave you to it.” You turned on your heel and marched out toward the front door.

“Get back here!” His heavy footsteps could be heard behind you. Just as you were about to open the door to leave, Bishop grabbed your forearm a little more hard than he intended to, pulling you towards him.

“Ouch!” You yanked your arm away from his tight grip that hurt you a little. Two of your hands went to his chest to push him a little away from you. “Do not touch me, Bishop!”

All you did was stare at each other as it felt forever, but it was only a couple of seconds. The built-up tension that had been brewing for the last few days could be felt between the two of you. You knew where this would end up, like it always did, with some hot and steamy make-up sex, because as much as you got angry and frustrated with one another, you both couldn’t keep it up for long and would eventually snap.

You tried your best this time not to make that happen, but you failed to move an inch, to get away from the situation you knew was going to happen. His eyes told you all his secrets; they were dark and dilated, hungry with the need of you after so long.

It didn’t take long for him to take significant strides towards you, pinning you between him and the outer door, holding your hands above your head so you couldn’t touch him.

His hungry lips found your desperate ones, moving them against you almost animalistic, sucking and biting your bottom lip. They slowly moved down towards the valley of your breasts but not before biting and sucking on your pulse point, which made your knees buckle.

He tapped the back of your thighs to let you know that he wanted you to wrap your legs around him. Doing so, he walked you back to the shared bedroom effortlessly. Once inside, he dropped you down and ordered you to take off all your clothes. He watched as you stripped down each article of clothing, his hand palming his growing erection that started to become too tight in his jeans.

When all of the clothing was off, he took some time to admire your body, his heart beating faster and faster as he was watching you. Even though you always got insecure when he was staring at you like that, he continuously reassured you that for him, it was like looking at a piece of beautiful art.

“Don’t you dare to fucking cover yourself,” he spoke in an almost aggressive tone when he saw you cross your arms around your stomach, trying to hide from him. “You are perfect, doll, don’t ever hide from me, you understand?” You gave him a nod of your head, telling him that you understood, “now come here,” he beckoned you with his finger to come closer to him.

When your faces were inches away from each other, he pointed down to the floor, and you knew what that meant. He was in control tonight, and you had no other choice but to listen to him. You happily went on your knees, no questions asked as you loved to bring Bishop such great pleasure with your mouth. It was one of your favorite things that you did for him.

“Are you gonna be a good pet tonight and listen to me?” A faint “yes” left your lips; something Bishop wasn’t too happy about. His hand went behind his ear, “I can’t hear you.” “Yes, I will be good tonight.” “Good because the night is young and I’m gonna take my sweet time at destroying you tonight.”

To Be Continued...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Let me know what you think❤️

GENERAL TAGLIST: @everyhowlmarksthedead @-im-fantastic- @idorkish @bishopslosawife @witching-hour @rosieposie0624 @jessprins13 @skyofficialxx @glamourglambert @jasminee97 @starrynite7114 @gemini0410 @rocketqueen @mack-jay @megapeacelovemusic-blog @weasleytwins-41 @achievement-hunters-blog54 @taurean-brat @multifandom-girlie

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08

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plentyoffandoms · 3 years

Text

At Last

Neron "Creeper" Vargas x f/Reader

Creeper deserves more love.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me.

Once again there is no spell check, so I am saying sorry now for the spelling and grammar mistakes you will see.

Warning: swearing

Masterlist ♡ Mayans Masterlist ♡ Creeper Masterlist

Summary: Creeper has been hiding a secret from his brothers & he finally tells them what it is.

CREEPER'S POV:

I kept looking at the clock on the wall, as I promised Y/N I would take her out to dinner tonight, but Bishop called a meeting at the last second.

I sent a text explaining what happened and I didn't have a chance to read her reply before I had to put my phone in the basket.

Usually Y/N is understanding, but we have only been together for ten months, and I didn't want to mess this up.

The meeting came to an end almost two hours later. I was the first one out the doors and I grabbed my phone.

I held my breath as I unlocked my phone and saw the reply back from Y/N, hoping she hasn't broken up with me.

'No worries baby, I understand. Just pick up something on the way home.'

Home. Ever since the first night I spent at her place, she has always made sure to call it home. After a month of dating, Y/N surprised me with a key to her place.

After four months of dating, she asked me to move in with her. At first I had no idea what to say. I have never lived with a woman before who I wasn't related to.

Y/N told me I could think on it and get back to her. She never pressured me and after being on a run for almost two weeks, I raced back to her place and told her I would move in with her.

After celebrating another step in our relationship that night, we spent the next weekend packing up all my belongings and moving it into our house. We donated or sold the furniture I decided not to keep.

She had all my stuff perfectly mixed in with her stuff. Our two lives became one and I couldn't be happier.

Except for one thing.

I have not told any of the guys about her. I have wanted to keep my private life and my Club life separated, but it was becoming harder and harder.

I don't go to every Club party now, I barely hang around after Templo. I used to sit around and shoot the shit with the guys, but I rarely do that now.

"Creeper, we need to talk to you." I heard Hank say, standing by the Templo doors.

I quietly sighed to myself and walked back into the room. Bishop, Taza, and Riz were still at their seats. I sat in mine and we waited for Hank to close the doors and take his seat.

"Neron, I have been wanting to talk to you for some time now." Bishop said.

"Oh yeah, what about?" I mentally slapped myself. What a stupid thing to say.

"You haven't been acting like yourself for a long time now. You are always in a rush to get out of here. Never stay at the parties for long." Riz said. I guess now is the time to come clean.

"What is going on with you? It's not drugs is it? Not in trouble with someone?" Taza asked.

"No, nothing like that. Nothing bad at all. I guess it is time to come clean. I have been seeing someone ten months now."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hank questioned.

"I was trying to keep my private life separate from the Club, so that is why I have been leaving parties earlier, haven't gone with any of Vicki's girls and kind of always rushing to leave here."

"When do we get to meet her?" My turned my head quickly to look at Bishop.

"She is obviously important to you. You have never acted like this with a woman before." Hank said.

"I will have to talk to her about it, but probably soon. She has wanted to meet everyone for a while. It has just been me trying to keep her safe."

"We get that, but you know what we do. What if something happens to you? How would we know to call her." Bishop said to me.

He had a point. "I know. She understands how the Club works. She knows the Club comes first. When I get home, I will discuss maybe having a dinner at our place."

"Wow....you must be serious about her. You have already moved in with her?" Riz pointed out.

"Yeah, we are serious."

After a few more words, I was finally free to leave. I sent a text back to Y/N saying I will pick up dinner from her favourite place as a sorry for taking so long.

Before I left the parking lot of the yard, I called and placed the order. I still haven't heard from Y/N but the time I picked up the food.

When I got home, I pulled into the garage, and walked into my quiet house. I placed our dinner on the kitchen counter and I went and checked the bedroom to see if she was there as sometimes she is marking her students homework in bed, but she wasn't there. I then decided to check the living room as I heard the TV on.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of my woman sleeping on the couch. She had my favourite blanket, the one I always use, wrapped around her.

I knelt down infront of her and cupped her face in my one hand and my other hand on the small bump that is barely showing, on her stomach and leaned down to kiss her.

"Wake up amor de mi vida." I may not know alot of Spanish, but I know some.

She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw that it was me.

"Hi Baby." She said as she sat up and stretched.

"Hello mi vida. I am sorry about coming home so late. I have your favourite meal from our favourite place on the counter in the kitchen."

The moment I said I had her favourite food, she was up and off the couch, heading towards the kitchen. I couldn't help but chuckle at her.

I sat in my chair as I knew she would bring me my food.

"Here you go love and thank you for picking up dinner." Y/N said as she handed me my food and sat down on the couch.

"It is the least I can do. I did promise to take you out to dinner."

The two of us ate and talked about our day. I enjoy these moments with her. When it is just the two us.

"I got held up after the Templo today."

"Oh, about anything serious?"

"Bishop, Hank, Taza, and Riz have noticed how I am not hundred percent there all the time. How I am leaving parties early and so on."

"It was bound to happen Neron." She said with a small smile.

"I know. I told them about you and they want to meet you."

"Really? When do you want that to happen?"

"I would prefer if they all came here, instead of going to the Clubhouse."

"Tell them to come by this Saturday for around 4 PM. I will cook dinner for everyone. Just let me know who is all coming."

"Y/N, we can just order food. I do not want you to stress out."

"I get that Neron, but when do any of you men actually get some home cooked food? I will cook, and I know if I need any help, you will be here."

I wanted to argue with her, but there would be no point. So I just agreed with her.

I know she would have all the food cooked and ready by the time any type of take out would even reach our front door.

I went to the back yard and sat in one of the patio chairs and lit up a cigarette. Y/N doesn't care that I smoke, as long as I do not smoke in our house and now with her being almost four months pregnant, the smell kind of makes her nauseous.

I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Bishop about my conversation I had with Y/N and that she said for everyone to come over this Saturday around 4 PM.

Bishop just replied with an 'Okay.' and said there is another meeting tomorrow after work. I didn't even bother to respond. He knows I will be there.

After finishing my smoke, I went and had a quick shower. After my shower and getting ready for bed, I did my rounds and made sure all the doors and windows were locked.

When I finally got to our bedroom, Y/N was already asleep. I turned the only light that was on in our bedroom, which is her bedside lamp off and I crawled in behind her.

I pulled her close to me, kissed her temple and I fell asleep.

By the time I woke up, Y/N was already gone like she is every weekday morning. I had my good morning text from her and I sent her one back. Just like we always do when we can not wake up together.

I went to the kitchen, and grabbed my coffee cup, which she has already added the sugar too, and I poured my self a cup.

I slowly woke up and I went back to the bedroom and got dressed for the day. I grabbed my leftovers from dinner last night, that I saved for my lunch, and headed out the door.

Y/N and I text each other through out the day, as we normally do. I know her schedule by now and know she messages me in between classes.

By the time the work day was over, I was ready to go home, but I still had Templo.

We all sat at our usual spot and listened to Bishop talk a little more about what we all talked about yesterday.

"Before we go. Don't make any plans for this Saturday, we are all going to Creepers place for dinner." Everyone turned to stare at me.

"You finally learned how to cook?" Gilly asked as he turned his body to face me. It was now or never.

"I haven't been completely honest with every one and Bishop, Hank, Riz, and Taza only found out yesterday. As you have all noticed I have been leaving parties earlier, not hanging out as much."

"Yeah man. What's up with that?" Coco questioned me.

"I have been seeing someone, and it is pretty serious. We have moved in together and are excepting a child together. Y/N is almost four months pregnant."

The room was silent and then there was laughter and all the guys saying congratulations.

Angel, being Angel said. "You a Dad?" And then let out the biggest laugh. I know he is just saying this to be an asshole.

"Anyways, like Bishop said. Come to my place around four this Saturday. I will text everyone my address. Y/N also said, do not bring anything as she will have it all taken care of."

Templo was finished and it was time for us all to leave. Thankfully, I didn't get called back again to talk.

It was finally Saturday and I was helping Y/N set everything outside. At first I was iffy on what Y/N had planned for dinner, but in the end I know the guys will enjoy it.

I know Y/N is nervous and excited. She wanted everyone to like her and no matter how much I tell her they will, she will still be nervous until the end of the party.

Hank and Bishop were the first ones to arrive. They are always on time for every thing.

"Y/N this is Bishop and Hank. Guys, this is my Y/N." I said as I proudly introduced her.

"So nice to finally meet you. Nice to finally put a face to the names of the people Neron constantly talks about." She said with a soft smile on her face.

"We will be having dinner in the back yard. Come, let me show you where the bathrooms are. Also, we have beer in the fridge whenever you would like one." I heard her say to the two of them.

The other guys came not long after that. Pretty much Y/N was being the perfect hostess and everyone was having a good time.

I was in the house getting a beer when I heard EZ and Coco talking in the living room.

They were standing by the photos that were on the mantle and looking at older photos of me. "What is going on in here?" I asked.

EZ lifted one of the photo frames. I noticed it was a collage of older photos of me.

"What are these from Creeper?" EZ asked.

"Bottom right, is one of my prison photos. Top right, I was at a fundraiser to help raise money for people who just came out prison and had nothing. The left is just from a party I went to."

"You mean to tell me, your girl has your prison photo, out in the open?"

"Yes I do Coco." The three of us turned once we heard Y/N.

"It is one of the few photos he has where he has hair. I also think he looks pretty damn sexy, so I thought why the hell not. But enough of that. It is time for dinner."

Y/N grabbed my hand and I looked back at Coco and EZ with a smirk on my face.

She had everything laid on the table.

"For dinner tonight, I thought I would try something different. I didn't know what you guys would want, so I decided to do a build your own pizza type thing. All the toppings are on that table, along with different sauces and home made pizza crust." Y/N said and looked at everyone nervously.

"Build our own pizza? Ohh fuck yeah." Gilly said as he was the first one to grab a plate and the other guys followed behind.

I stood next to the outdoor pizza oven, and cooked everyone's pizza as they came up to me. I watched as Y/N and Bishop talked and laughed with one another.

"She is good for you Creeper." Hank said as he handed me his pizza to cook.

"She really is. I know this sounds cheesy as hell, but she is the one for me. I am going to ask her to marry me soon."

"Really? You got a ring and everything?" Hank questioned.

"Yeah. My mom gave me my grandmother's engagement ring. I took one of the rings that Y/N is always wearing, and took both rings to a jeweler and got the engagement ring resized."

"Congratulations man. I know you haven't asked her yet, but I know she will say yes." I couldn't help but smile at the man.

"I know she will say yes." I said to Hank as the love my life looked in my direction, and smiled at me.

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Text

“Hi ma’am. Uh—I’m looking for Jethro Gibbs?” The 15 years old boy asked to Ellie Bishop. Who’s that kid? She’s never seen him before, or heard her boss talked about a teenager. And she doesn’t recall how it could be link to any case.

“You are?” She asked, intrigued.

“It’s—personal,” the teenager said. Now, she’s even more intrigued. If he had blue eyes, she’d have asked herself if he shared DNA with her boss.

“I’m gonna call him but I just need your name,” she said, grabbing her phone.

“Harry! What are you doing here, bud?” Gibbs approached the teenager and Harry immediately ran into his arms. Gibbs hugged him tight.

“Can I stay with you today?”

“I—“ Gibbs wanted to tell him that he was working. But he was the sad eyes on Harry’s face. The kid has been though a lot lately, he can’t tell him no. “Let him call your mum, okay?”

Gibbs stood aside the bullpen while he called you, Harry was right next to him and the rest of the team came back. Tony and McGee stood next to Ellie, following where her eyes were watching. “Who’s that kid?” Tony asked first.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Bishop answered.

While on the phone, they saw their boss smiling. A real smile. And then he put his hands in Harry’s curly hair.

“Does Gibbs has a kid we don’t know about?” Tim asked.

“He has green eyes,” Bishop stated.

“So? Do I look like my father?” Tony said, without thinking. Tim and Ellie turned their heads to look at their coworker. “Yeah, bad example, but you get the point.”

Right after Tony’s sentence, Gibbs hang up. The three agents pretended to be occupied at their own desk. Their boss had his arm around Harry’s shoulders as they came back to the bullpen. “Harry is going to be our honorary agent for the day. This is Tim, Tony and Ellie,”

“Hi,” Harry shyly waved at them.

“Hello Honorary agent Harry,” Tony stood up to check the teenager’s hand. “And he is?” Tony asked his boss.

“None of your business,” Gibbs simply answered. Tony growled, unhappy about not having an answer. “Update,”

While the team updated Gibbs on the case and what they found, Harry stayed really close to the boss. Gibbs always had a protective and special warmth towards kids and teenagers, but there was something special there. Tony promised himself to find what was the relationship there, by the end of the day.

Abby knew Gibbs would entered her lab any minute, but he never expected him to come in with a very young special agent. “Abby, Harry. Harry, Abby. Lab tech,” Gibbs said, and both Harry and Abby waved at each other. “What you got, Abs?”

“Many questions,” she said, looking at the teenager’s green eyes.

“Unhappy look,” Harry whispered to her, looking at Gibbs that was standing right behind her, waiting for her report.

“We call it the Gibbs stare, here,” she quickly said, before telling her boss what we wanted to know.

Harry was impressed. We knew things about Gibbs’ job, just like he knows what yours, since you’re a cop too. But what Abby is doing is very impressive to him, he would love to her multiple questions. “Can I stay with her?” Harry asked Gibbs, as they were about to leave the lab.

Jethro definitely hates how weak he can be with Harry. “Okay but a few rules,” Abby and Harry listened carefully, “First, Abby, do not interrogate him. And do not show him weird things his mother can be mad about. And you, bud,” Gibbs took a few steps closer to Harry, “enjoy your day, okay? I’ll come get you for lunch,” Gibbs kissed Harry’s forehead and left.

Abby didn’t waste any time, “Okay, bud,”

“Nope. Only Jethro calls me that. I hate it, but it’s an habit now,”

“Fine. Who are you to my boss?”

“Stepson, I guess. I think?—I’m not sure. Jethro and mum has—“ Harry stopped in the middle on the sentence and turned around. “God, I thought he was standing behind,” he said.

“Does he do that outside of work, too?” Abby asked, super exciting about knowing personal things.

“Yeah, it’s like he has a detector every time we say his name,”

“Today’s going to be so fun!”

Harry has never been into sciences at school, he’s more into languages and literature, just like his father. But Abby Sciuto made it so fun that his curiosity was exploding. Pretty much like the experience he was doing. “What did I do wrong?” Harry said, frustrated about failing.

“You took this,” Abby said, showing a product, “instead of that,” she showed another product.

“Damn!” Harry said. And of course, Gibbs has entered the lab at the very same moment. He extended his hand to his stepson, “do we have to do it even when Joe’s not around?” Harry complained. “I’m not a kid anymore,”

“Fine, but don’t tell your mother. And—what happened here? A tornado?” Gibbs asked, looking at the mess.

“I’m definitely not good at sciences,”

“You just need a good teacher, sweetie,” Abby said. “You can come around when you need help, if your—stepdad is okay,” Abby grinned at Gibbs, happy to know that info.

“What happened in that lab—better stay in that lab,” Gibbs said, “Hungry, bud?”

Gibbs and Harry went to the diner for lunch. “Text your mum, Harry. She’s worried,”

“Dad broke up with Lindsay. He wants me to come back and live with him again,”

“Is that what you want?”

“No—yes—maybe. I don’t know,”

“Hey, whatever you want to do, your parents will agree to it. All they want is for you to be happy, wherever you are,”

“Even if it’s in Australia?” Gibbs looked at Harry, confused. Last he knew, your ex husband is living in California. “Dad had a job offer in Sydney, he said yes. And he’s leaving next month,”

“If you want to go with him, do it,”

“How would you feel about it, J?”

“It doesn’t mat—“

“It matters to me. You’ve been in my life for almost ten years now. At some points, you were more a dad to me than Dad was. And you’re my baby brother’s father. I care about you, and I care about what you think,”

This is typically what Gibbs doesn’t like. He hates that kind of conversation, he hates to let people know how he feels and what he thinks. But if someone deserves to know a little about it, it’s definitely Harry.

“For me, there’s no difference between you and your brother— Family’s more than DNA. It’s about people who care and take care of each other.”

“Stop with those sentences all made up! Tell me how you’d feel if I move to Australia,”

Gibbs chuckled. The shy little boy he met 8 years ago was now becoming a confident young man. “I’ll miss you, okay? Just like I missed when you left for California! Are you happy now?”

“No! I’ll be happy when you and mum stop acting like children, and finally give Joe a stable family,”

“Your mum and I are dysfunctional, but we work that way. Did Joe tell you something?”

“He’s 5 and he wants what any other 5 years old want; he wants to live with his mother and his father, 24/7. In the same household,”

“With his big brother too, right?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point,”

After a blank during which Gibbs intensely stared at Harry, “I didn’t see you grow up. I’m proud of the young man you’re becoming,”

Harry smiled, “Say it,”

“What?” Gibbs asked, his mouth full of his burger.

“You know it! Say it,”

“Nope,”

“Why? Why is it so hard?” Harry paused. “Look— it can be easy when it’s true. I love you, dad.”

Harry called Gibbs “dad” occasionally. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Jethro remembered the first time he heard it from him and the first Joe said it. He felt the same for both. That’s how he knew there was so difference between his real son and his stepson. They are both his sons.

“I love you,” Gibbs mumbled, with French fries in his mouth.

“Didn’t understand. What did you say?”

Gibbs swallowed. “I love you, son! Okay? You happy? Can I eat in silence now?”

“Yes, you can,” Harry proudly smiled.

In the afternoon, Harry stayed with Gibbs until the agent had no choice but to go on a run for the case. Gibbs let his stepson with Ducky. The doc showed Harry around, avoiding the autopsy and corpses obviously. By the end of the day, Ducky and Harry were playing chess at Gibbs’ desk, waiting for everyone to come back. But when they heard the elevator opening, here you were, with Joe in your arms. The little boy got down and ran to his brother as soon as he saw him. You hugged your son tight. “How are you, baby?” You asked.

“I’m good mum,” he smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “I’m beating Ducky,”

“Not yet, young man,” Ducky stood and hugged you. “How’s my favorite Gibbs?” He asked to Joe, who was holding onto his brother like a koala bear.

“Say hi to Ducky, sweetheart,” you told your youngest son and the little boy waved at the doc. Ducky and Harry sat back in their chairs, Joe was still holding Harry and you sat on Jethro’s desk.

“Where’s J?” You asked.

“Followed a lead, he should be back soon,”

The four of you stayed together, talking about everything and nothing until the elevator opened again. This time, it was Gibbs with his team. As soon as Joe saw his dad, he jumped from his brother’s lap and ran into Gibbs’ arm. “Hey baby,”

Tony, Tim and Ellie were more confused than they were hours ago when they met Harry. Ducky couldn’t help but smiling big. Before anyone could say anything, Abby appeared with Jimmy in the bullpen. The entire team was there. “How’d it go?” She asked.

The team explained that it led to nowhere, and they had to go back to the beginning on that case. While they did that, Jethro stole you a quick kiss, and he whispered something in Harry’s ears. “Checkmate!” Your son told Ducky as he made his final move.

“That’s cheating,” Ducky said.

“Nope. Dad and I share one brain,”

When the word “dad” was heard in the bullpen, everyone stopped talking and turned like one man towards Gibbs and you. Your boyfriend laughed, and moved Joe on his back, “Hang on Monkey!” He said.

“Can we go to McDonald’s?” The little boy asked.

“Nope,” “yes!” Gibbs and you answered at the same time. Jethro looked at you, but you were looking at Harry with a smile. “Boys!” You said.

In a second, Joe was tickling his father in the neck, and Harry was searching for his car keys while you were holding his arms. When your oldest found the keys, he handed them to you and the three of you ran to the elevator. “Team work!” You high five the boys.

Gibbs’ team was looking at him, more confused than they have never been in their life. Their boss laughed and walked towards the elevator and his family, “Good night everyone!”

#leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs #gibbs x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo #tim mcgee #ellie bishop #abby sciuto #ducky mallard #jimmy palmer

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let-love-bleeds-red · 3 years

Text

Ezekiel reyes x reader

A/N: I’m new to posting/publishing my works so any feedback is welcomed! Maybe will do a part 2?? Depending on you readers. Also don't be shy to ask for more characters or different shows. ☺️

Summary: Ezekiel leaves their romantic partner high and dry as he deals with supposed club business. Y/n feeling quite lonely sends an attention grabbing video to Ez only for his phone to be left behind. After a confusing phone call with Angel, y/n decides she needs to see who Ez has been talking to. When Ez’s past crashes with his future puts Y/n in a bad position, y/n must figure out what’s better for her future and their relationship.

Warnings: Mature language, smut, oral sex, fingering, masturbation, mention of bodily fluids, mention of abuse, angst.

Word count: 3073

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light shuffling wakes me from a blissful dream. My eyes adjust to the light shining through the window blinds. I rub the sleepiness away and make eye contact with the bare back of Ezekiel Reyes. Shamelessly, I take in every inch and mark of his body, happy that he's mine.

Ez turns around feeling eyes on him. "Like what you see cariña" (darling) the corner of his mouth curves up into a devilish smirk.

I'm sure I'm drooling at this point. Recapturing my composure, I throw a pillow at the back of his head. "It surprises me that your ego is bigger than your head" I retort.

He turns away from the dresser facing me “you didn’t mind my head size when it was between your legs,” a shit eating smile filling his face.

“Ezekiel Reyes!” I scold giggling. Warmth floods my cheeks as I hide underneath the covers. Large hands make they’re way up my legs, kisses trailing close behind them. My breath hitches as his lips make contact to my inner thigh. His teeth nip at certain spots making sure to leave many love bites. My fingers scratch the back of his head leading him further up to where my body most craved. He licks my slit, his focus now on teasing my clit.

A soft moan escapes my lips as my hips involuntarily buck up closer to him. Ez smirks kissing up to my sternum. He looks up to me with mischievous eyes. I pout from the loss of contact, “you just want to get me worked up.”

His hand molds my breast while playing with my nipple, “You look so sexy when you’re frustrated.” His hot tongue connects to my erect nipple sucking and tugging lightly, the other hand not stopping its menstrations. He bites the side of my breast causing loud moans to escape.

My hips grind against his abdomen looking for friction and much needed relief. “Fuck.. Ezekiel” my nails scratch along his shoulders driving him further on. “Please mi corazon” (my heart) I moaned, needing more of him. His hand leaves my breast, sliding down to where I ache the most. Two digits pump in me while his thumb gives attention to my clit. I ride along Ez’s hand getting closer and closer to my climax. His fingers feel like magic, hitting every sensitive part. I’m arching from the immense pressure of pleasure that’s fighting to be released. Just as I’m reaching the edge a ringing freezes Ez’s actions. Ezekiel looks to me, then to his phone across the room on the dresser, then back to me. “Don’t you even think about it,” The need for release takes over my emotional state.

Ez kisses my forehead, “Lo siento mi amor.” (I'm sorry my love) He climbs off of the bed making his way to the dresser and answers his phone. He turns away from me talking low to the person on the receiving end. I don't know if it’s my sexual frustrations or the fact that he’s acting sneaky but something was definitely up. Ez’s hush conversation ends as he rushes to get his clothes on. I sit up worried, “Is something wrong with the club? Is Angel alright? Bishop?” Here I am frustrated since we didn’t finish, yet my Mayan family could need help. Even worse they could be hurt. God I’m so selfish.

“No hermosa, everyone is fine. The club needs me for a run. I can’t say no to them,” He eases my mind. “Rest baby, I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my head rubbing the crease on my forehead.

“Be careful, I know it's just a run but things can go bad so quick, so please be careful.” I hug him snuggling my head to his chest hearing his beautiful heart beat.

He rubs my back holding me close, “See you in a few, sleep mi corazon” He takes my face in his large hands planting a soft kiss to my lips. After a brief moment he lets go and grabs his kutte from the corner chair. I hear the door close seconds later and sigh sadly. He just left and I’m missing him like crazy. I’m so whipped. Maybe I should show him how bad I’m missing him.

Grabbing my vibrator from the nightstand drawer, and setting my phone on the stand to catch all my naughty actions. I flip the switch to High on my vibrator moving it along my wet slit. The vibration re-excites my sensitive clit, as I rub it through my folds, lubing it up. My other hand finds my breast playing and tugging my nipple. “Ezekiel I want you so bad baby” I moan imagining his hands, his tongue, his huge thick cock. “I want you fucking every bit of me to pieces.” I rub against the vibrator gathering friction on the bundle of nerves. Feeling tired of waiting for release I thrust the vibrator into me. Not stopping to get used to the size, I thrust it fast in and out of me hitting my g-spot repeatedly. Taking my hand away from my breast I moved it down to my clit rubbing the sensitive bud to push me over the edge. “Fuck! Right there Ezekiel!” I moan arching my back. A split second later the burst of release and pleasure fills my body. I take the vibrator out seeing my cum drip along the sleek tool to the tip as I rub my orgasm out. “Would’ve been better if you were actually here,” I look at the camera. “I miss you, baby. Come home soon. I love you,” I blow a kiss toward the camera and end the recording.

After a long hot shower, I lather myself in lotion and get dressed. Checking how the naughty video looks, I send it to Ez satisfied with the results. A ding sounds from across the room. Investigating where the sound came from leads to Ez’s forgotten phone. For someone with great memory he forgets a lot of stuff. I’ll call Angel to let Ez know.

“Hey princess, you finally wise up and realize I’m the hottest Reyes?” Angel answers.

I roll my eyes laughing, “Sadly you’re mistaken Angel, Philippe will always be number one.”

“I’m gonna tell Ez you said that.”

“What makes you think Ez doesn’t know,” I smirk.

“Gross” he groans is distaste.

“Like your face. Anywho, how did the run go?”

“What run? Everyone is given the day off until the party tonight”

Confusion wracks my brain, “none of you went on a run this morning?”

“Not that I know of. What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly.

“Uh nothing, I just thought Ezekiel was with you and the guys. My mistake, sorry to bother you Angel.”

“You’re no bother princess, let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay thanks Angel, bye.” My heart sinks. Ez lied to me. He actually lied and broke his promise. Why would he do that. It has to be important if he needed to lie to me. Yea that’s it.

I look towards his phone thinking back to who he was talking to earlier. If it wasn’t the club then who? Going against my conscience I look through his messages to see Emily pop up on his recent. The messages showing meet up places on days Ez left early to do club business or met up with his dad. My heart is breaking into pieces. Shattering even more with the lies and betrayal. He knew how I felt about starting this relationship, about the trust issues, and trauma. He knew every part of me yet decided to destroy all that was built between us. Liquid drips onto my arms, I wipe my eyes not realizing the tears pouring. I don’t want to cry. I shouldn’t cry. Not over someone who didn’t truly love me. Yet I cry for the love that I gave him. I cry for being dumb enough to fall so hard for him, for giving my all to him.

~Months prior~

Slowly slipping out of strong arms I reach for my shirt and panties laying across the floor. Trying to be stealthy, I look for my missing shorts. How can someone lose shorts in a trailer?! There’s literally no way it’s too small, but of course my luck. I yelp as I feel myself being pulled back into a warm chest. Ez chuckles beside me, happy to catch me by surprise. “Buenos dias hermosa” (good morning beautiful) He kisses my temple leading more down the curve of my neck.

I hit his firm chest, “You scared me half to death, jerk!” Trying to hold back my smile, but Ezekiel being Ezekiel can see right through it.

His hand frames the side of my face as his thumb lightly trails across my bottom lip. “You weren’t trying to leave without saying goodbye were you?” His brown eyes bore into mine taking in every feature.

Not able to lie to him, “Yes, but only to get to the office before Chucky,” I explain while trying to climb off the bed again only to be pulled back to straddling Ez’s waist. “This is what got us in this situation in the first place, Reyes,” pointing to our current position.

His big hands slowly crawl their way up my bare thighs causing shivers to run up my spine. “You’re too irresistible, and you didn’t seem to mind it. I do remember you begging for more.”

Curse his memory. I hit his chest, ”Not my fault you kept following me around, I felt bad. You were like a lost puppy.” I smile thinking back to the first day we met. “Speaking of memory, where are my shorts?”

A mischievous smirk slips across his lips, “now what do I get if I tell you?” His hand now on my ass, pushing me slightly on his erection.

I jokingly ponder his question, grinding my hips slowly to tease, while tapping my chin in a thinking motion. “Hmm.. Not getting caught by Bishop, nor beaten to death. Oh and possibly get buried in the desert.” His smirk falls off his face. “But knowing Bishop he’ll probably castrate you first,” I grin thinking how protective the Mayan President can be.

He groans, pulling my shorts from behind his pillow. “Take them.”

“You were hiding them!” I laugh pinching his side teasing.

“I didn’t want you leaving,” he taps his finger along my thigh nervously.

“As sweet as that sounds, I don't want your death on my hands if Bishop catches us,” I joke.

“I want Bishop to know,” he states confidently. He sits up having us chest to chest as he watches my features. “I want us to date, be a couple in front of the club, in public. I don't want to hide it,” his hand caresses my face.

“Ezekiel,” I stop his hand. “I can’t do that. I can’t put sheer dumb trust in another person, not with my emotions and body.” Heat fills my chest from the traumatic memories. “I will not put myself in a position to be beaten down and taken advantage of.” Slipping out of his hold, I put my shorts and flats on trying to make a quick exit.

His hand gently wraps around my arm catching my attention. “I don't want you for your beauty and body, you’re so much more than that. You’re so strong and very smart, your humor and wit make you, you.” His arms wrap around my waist pulling me a bit closer to him. “I will never hurt you. I’m not that low life thug. I will never lie to you or make you feel uncomfortable. I respect you so much. Just give me a little trust, I promise you won't regret it,” he begs, his eyes full of love?

A knock on the trailer door interrupts the moment. “It’s Chucky, I brought by coffees for a morning wake up,” he explains happily.

I walk over to the door, opening it coming face to face with Chucky. “Thanks Chucky,” I take the two cups. “Do you mind letting Bishop know that I need to talk with him? He’s gonna wanna know I’m dating his prospect,” I look over to Ez smiling.

“Of course young love is beautiful, I hope to witness it myself one of these days.” Chucky sighs dreamily.

I peck his cheek, “You will Chucky. She’ll be one lucky woman,” I assure him.

Muscled arms snake around my stomach as Ez’s chest warms my back. “Chucky, y/n is gonna be late to clock in. I won't keep her for too long,” he kisses my temple.

“I love you Chucky, thank you!!” I squeal as Ez shuts the door and picks me up kissing me all over the face.

~End of Flashback~

My phone ringing brings me out of my haze. I answer it hearing the one man I didn’t want to contact. “Hey I’m calling from a pay phone, I think I left mine on your dresser. Any way I’ll be by to pick you up for the party tonight in a few minutes.”

I hold back from crying anymore, not wanting to show how hurt I am. “Don't worry about me, I’ll drive over by myself,” trying to keep my voice steady.

“Are you sure the house is on the way.”

On the way from where? Is what kills me. “I’m sure. I’ll see you there, bye.” I hung up before he could get another word in, not able to handle a longer conversation. Grabbing a duffle bag from the closet I pack every belonging of his. Erasing any sign of him from my home. As I fold the last of his shirts, his scent takes me in its embrace. I’m really going to miss him. Holding his shirt to my chest I hug it letting the last of my tears drip away.

After pulling myself together, I toss his stuff in my Jeep and head over to the club house. Chucky opens the gate and greets me. “Lovely night to let loose, huh y/n?”

I can’t help but always feel comfort from Chucky, he’s a true sweetheart. “Indeed Chucky. Make sure you get to enjoy the party a bit too.” I pat his arm before driving into the lot.

Hopping out, I head into the clubhouse to see Bishop playing a card game with Hank and Reaper. I greet the men hugging them one by one, leaving the last to be Bishop. “Can I talk to you in the temple?”

He nods a look of worry flashes across his face, “Of course mija. We’ll be back.” He tells Hank. We walk back to the temple, him taking a seat as I stand. “What’s wrong y/n? Did something happen?” He scopes out my face for any bruise or marks.

“Yes but it's not for you to worry about, Bish. Just letting you know I’ll be in Charming for the next couple of days.”

“Why are you leaving? Did the prospect do something to you?!” He starts to stand up to head toward the door.

I stop him shaking my head, “There is a job opening at the hospital there that I’ve been invited to try out. I think it’s a great opportunity for me since I’m back on my feet.” I explain leaving Ezekiel out of the situation.

“But that’s not the only reason. You look like you’ve been crying. What did the prospect do.” He demands an answer.

“Nothing that deals with the club. He didn’t touch me nor hurt me in any physical way. I can’t deal with being in a relationship, they don’t work well with me.” There’s no point in getting Ez into trouble with the club.

He gets up and embraces me, “If that’s what you want then I can’t stop you. Just make sure you’re doing it for you and not just running away.” He kisses the top of my head.

“I’ll call you when I get to Charming,” I pat his chest. “Please keep this between us, for now?” He nods his head in agreement. “Thank you for everything, El Presidente” I smile leaving him to head back to the Jeep. As I exit the club I come face to face with Ezekiel.

He smiles seeing that it’s me, “There you are hermosa,” he leans down to peck my lips. I step back avoiding the gesture. Confusion washes over him as I step around him to get to my car. He follows close behind, “Hey, wait up!” He grabs my arm only for me to yank away from him. “What’s wrong mi amor?” (my love)

“How was your run?” I steal my voice, staring at his brown orbs.

Worry taking over his emotions, “It was fine, everything went well. I’m okay.”

I scoff shaking my head at his lies. “Here,” pulling his phone out of my pocket and shoves it into his chest. “Emily has been messaging all day.”

Realization flashes through him, “wait baby no it’s not like that!” He tries to grab my hands.

“Don’t touch me. You lost the privilege the moment you decided to lie and sneak around. I don't want any part of your charades.” Tiredness heavy in my voice.

“Let me explain, please,” he pleads. “I didn’t cheat. I only helped her with a business issue,” he explains hurriedly.

“I don't need your explanation nor do I want it, Ezekiel. It’s not fair for you to live in your past, while you tell me to move on from my own. It’s hypocritical of you to think she loves you. Emily is a married woman, she loves Galindo, she’s moved on.” I sigh grabbing his duffle bag of belongings from my car dropping them at his feet. “At least I know I’m not the only stupid one in this relationship.”

“I don't love Emily, I love you, you are my everything. You make everyday worth it. I can’t lose you.”

“The problem, Ezekiel, is I don’t believe you. Your words are just that. Words. No meaning behind them. I’m not gonna give my time and trust to a man who doesn’t respect me. I’m done. It’s over. Don't contact me, don't go to my house.” I rush into the Jeep starting it and backing up out of the lot. The only thought is to drive away and don't look back. If I look, then I know I’ll turn and go back into his arms.

A/N: please feedback and let me know if there should be a part 2

#ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x fem reader #mayans #SOA #ezekiel reyes x reader #smut #SOA SMUT #angst #ezekiel #reyes #angel reyes #mayan mc

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Grey keys.

Thank you as always @beccabarba for being my cheerleader and beta for this series.

*Grey Leather*

*Grey Uniform*

*Grey Dress*

*Grey Vase*

*Grey Blanket*

*Grey Jeans*

*Grey Socks*

*Grey Boxes*

*Grey Balloons*

*Grey Singlet*

*Grey Cocktails*

Warnings: Mayan’s stuff, light swearing and p in v smut.

WC: 1480

Enjoy x

It was one thing that you hated about the job, last minute call outs. You had worked from early in the morning, before the sun was even out, leaving Bishop asleep on his belly, kissing his bare shoulder and walking out the door with your take away coffee cup. The shift had been busy with different injuries and illnesses being rushed to hospital. You had just gotten back to the depo when a call came over your radios about an oil burn in the market place.

Everyone else was out on other calls and your shift change wasn’t there yet, so you and your partner rushed out, you answering back that you were on the way, jumping in the ambulance speeding over with lights and sirens. Once you and your partner arrived at the market you both jumped out with your bags and ran inside to find your patient.

As you ran through the aisles of the markets, something caught your eye and you looked over seeing Taza and Hank trying to hide behind a trolley full of fruit, then Bishop and Angel came bolting the other way, Bishop’s eyes catching yours. You told you partner to keep going, Bishop walking up to you pulling you into an aisle off the busy main one,

“Baby, what are you doing here? Your shift is finished” Bishop said puffed out.

“We got a last-minute call out” you looked at Angel who kept looking over his shoulder. It clicked and you reached into your scrubs pocket pulling out your set of grey keys to the ambulance, dropping them in his hand “Go in through the sliding door at the side, don’t touch anything and try not to sit on the stretcher in case we need it. Wait in there till I come back”

“This is why you’re fucking awesome” Angel smirked at you.

“Thanks” you giggled “I have to go”

Bishop grabbed your hand and pulled back kissing you quickly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles,

“Thanks, baby”

The burn wasn’t as bad as you first thought, your partner patching it up and you both telling the older lady that she needed to see her doctor the following day for a check-up. You packed up your things and explained to your partner what was going on and he had a little laugh at the whole situation. You both got back to the van, sliding the side door open seeing Taza, Hank, Bishop and Angel sitting around different parts of the back,

“Glad to see you listened and didn’t touched anything” you smiled between them all.

“Don’t get used to it” Taza laughed at you giving you a wink.

“Mind giving us a ride back?” Hank looked at your partner and he nodded back at him.

You guys sorted out seating, putting Taza in the front with your partner, Hank and Angel on the seats in the back and you and Bishop on the locked in stretcher, his arm around you pulling you into his side, his other hand resting on your thigh. Your partner drove slowly through the streets till you got to the club house, Chucky opening the gates and closing it behind you as you drove into the yard.

“Come in for a beer” Taza patted your partners shoulder, them both looking over their shoulders at you and you nodded back.

“Just call it in that we are getting fuel before we head back” you said to your partner after he opened the sliding door on the side to let everyone out,

“Coming?” Angel asked, looking at you both.

“Yeah soon, close the door” Bishop said over his shoulder, Angel nodding, sliding the door shut.

Bishop looked back to you, his arm that was around your middle came up to sit around your neck, his lips crashing on yours. His hand that was on your thigh came up to your cheek, cupping it, one of your hands resting on his thigh and your other going up to his neck,

“Thank you so much for today, baby” Bishop brushed his nose over yours.

“Is there something I need to be worried about?”

Bishop shook his head giving you a small smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek,

“Everything is under control, if it change’s, I’ll tell you. But I don’t want to talk about that right now baby” Bishop smirked at you and you saw the arousal wash across his face.

The hand that was on your cheek slid down to your breast, cupping it through your uniform. You moaned softy and you ran your hand up his thigh cupping him over his zipper and he thrusted up into your palm, a groan rattled through his throat.

His hand went straight to your thigh pulling you onto his lap. You started to roll your hips down on him, your forehead resting on his, swallowing each other’s breaths. Bishop’s hands came up to your behind, squeezing both your cheeks and then they slid up under your shirt and up under your bra strap,

“Did it make you hot today, babe? Me coming through for you. Having your back like that” you purred.

Bishop groaned thrusting up into you “You know it did” he panted out.

You stood up off him pushing down your pants and panties to your ankles, your hand going down to run through your wet folds, Bishop’s eyes locked on your hand toying with yourself while he undone his belt and jeans, lifting his hips slightly to push them down. Bishops’ hands came to your hips, spinning you around and pulling you back onto him. You guided your hips down on his hard cock, the hot head of it pushing up between your lower lips. You sat down on him, and you both moaned loud at the feeling.

Bishop’s hand went to the middle of your back, pushing you forward, your hands resting on the small bench down the side of the ambulance. You started to rock your hips over him, the stretcher started to squeak under you both,

“Such a good girl for me baby, having my back like that” Bishop grunted out, both his hands on your hips, he leaning back slightly and thrusting up into you.

“Bishop” you moaned, your head dropping forward and you bit your bottom lip “I love you”

“Love you baby” he grunted back.

Your hips rocked over him fast, the build-up of your orgasm about to break through you. You reached down to yourself, your fingers rolling over you. One of his hands moved up into your hair, grabbing onto your pony tail and pulling you back into him as he sat up, your back to his chest. His hand came out of your hair and pushed your hand away, his fingers taking over yours and his other hand from your thigh slid up under your shirt, groping at you over your bra.

“Oh- Bish- I” your loud moans bounced off the walls of the ambulance, the stretcher rattling and squeaking louder.

Your mouth dropped open and your head fell back as your walls fluttered hard around Bishop, your whole body heating up, your release washing over you like a heat wave. You gasped for air and your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that you almost didn’t hear the loud roar and your name leaving his mouth, coming deep inside you, till his grip on your breast tightened.

You both stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breaths and Bishop covered your clothed back in kisses. You stood up off him, your legs shaking and feeling both your mixed release seeping out of you slightly. Bishop’s hands went to your bare hips, pulling you back into him, his lips on your lower back kissing around to your stomach slowly turning you around, your hands coming to rest in his hair.

Bishop kissed a few times around your belly button before he looked up at you with a big grin, your nails scrapping over his sculp before you stepped away pulling up your panties and pants and fixing up your hair. Bishop stood up and done the same. He was just doing up his belt buckle as the side door slid open to Hank and your partner,

“This guy knows how to party” Hank laughed; your partner smiled drunkenly at you his eyes glassy.

“It’s been 20 minutes” you raised your eye brows at Hank “Creeper’s whiskey?”

Hank nodded back with a smile, “Bring him to the next party, he’s fun” Hank patted his shoulder and your partner climbed in trying not to lose his balance and getting in the front passenger’s seat.

“Better get going” you walked to Bishop, he wrapping you in his arms and he kissed you deeply.

“I’ll be home soon, baby. Love you” he peaked your lips.

“Love you too.”

Tags: @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @alwaysachorusgirl @withmyteeth @frattsparty @justchillin-inhell

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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

no place for a lady.

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

requested kiss challenge: seductive kiss or caught off-guard kiss with pirates? where’s Bishop is a feared captain

pairing: captain!bishop losa x theodosia bell | rating: 💙

sum: bish has taken the governor's daughter hostage. despite being his prisoner, she doesn’t listen to a single thing his crew says. to avoid a second escape attempt, he’s forced to keep eyes on her himself.

words: 2K

Captain Obispo Losa quietly inspects the silver blade catching the rays of the sun above.

The sword is a gift to himself. Stolen from the halls of a governor, foolish enough to leave his daughter poorly protected. It had caught Bishop's attention as he’d waited patiently from his hiding place. Never used, the sword was hanging above the mantle. Hours of work from the local blacksmith deduced to a decorative piece to be discussed over dinner.

Bishop admires the golden filigree decorating the handle. The sword is the nicest weapon he’s ever touched. Probably worth more than his entire ship. He gives it a few swings, adjusting his stance as he quickly becomes accustomed to the weight in his hand.

“Teach me how to use one?”

The request breaks Bishop's concentration. A scoff of disbelief escapes his lips as he glances away from the sword in his hand. He allows his eyes to pass over the woman seated nearby.

Bishop had nearly forgotten she was keeping him company. The usually outspoken woman has been silent. Mesmerized by his handling of the sword.

Bishop's handling of the sword was quite impressive, but so was the man himself.

Seated on the deck, Theodosia has her back against the mainmast--a feeble attempt at mastering the sickness she has yet to master in her time at sea.

The tunic she wears is the cleanest the captain could provide. The loose-fitting fabric rolled up to her elbows. Her dark windblown curls are safe beneath a black hat, the tattered brim protecting her face from the rays of the midday sun. Another gift, courtesy of the captain. In fact, all of the clothes that Theodosia wears are from the captain.

If it were up to her, she wouldn’t have accepted a single thing from the man responsible for marooning her on his ship. However, the golden customized gown she wore upon her arrival--while extremely beautiful-- was impractical for a ship.

As much as she hated accepting his clothes, she needed the hat the most. Not used to spending a day's length in the sun, Theodosia needed it to prevent her face from getting burned.

Bishop considers her question. His gaze remains on the sword in his hand, admiring the balance of the blade.

“Putting a blade in the hand of a hostage...do you take me for a fool, Miss. Bell?” Bishop questions, raising an eyebrow as his gaze drifts to her.

“I do, actually.”

The unexpected response, matched with the confidence of her voice, halts the man’s swinging of the blade. He comes to a standstill, his full attention focused on the woman gazing up at him.

“And why’s that?”

Bishop watches Theodosia's brow furrow, her mind seeking a rational explanation for her smart-mouthed response. Her dark brown eyes widen, her lips settling into a smirk as she pushes herself up.

“If your ship were under attack, you would want me to know how to defend myself.”

The satisfied grin on her face does not produce her desired response. Instead of agreeing, Bishop laughs. The sound wipes the grin clean off Theodosia’s face.

It is a sound the woman is not used to having directed toward her. As the governor’s daughter, Theodosia is not accustomed to people laughing in her face. It is, however, an act the captain seems to love doing. It is his preferred form of dismissal.

“Not necessarily,” he responds. The teasing in Bishop's voice more apparent as his gaze falls to Theodosia's clenched fists. “I don’t care much about your life if we’re being honest.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. Losa.” Theodosia challenges. “It would only be to your benefit if I knew how to handle a sword, even at the novice level. Would you care to know why?”

“I know you’re going to tell me regardless.” He mumbles.

Bishop now understood why, over the years, he’d been informed a ship was no place for a lady. Theodosia Bell is more trouble than it is worth. Following her arrival, she has been attached to the captain’s hip at all times. She has taken said time to share what is on her mind. No matter the subject. For someone born higher than the orphaned captain, she has a mouth as filthy as his.

“I’m flattered you’ve gotten to know me so well, Captain,” Theodosia beams. Her teasing tone prompts Bishop to roll his eyes. “I’ll return to my previous scenario--”

“By all means, make it quick.” He sighs. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The woman does not waste a single second to present her case. She has learned Bishop will simply leave her behind, literally, when he tires of her voice.

“If we were attacked, you would spend the entire time fighting to protect me. You may claim my life has no value to you, but if that were the case, I wouldn’t be on this god-forsaken ship. Now, would I?” The confidence in her voice is no match to the grin on her face as Theodosia watches the Captain fold his arms over his chest. “You need me alive to get whatever it is you’ll be demanding of my father. As I stated before if someone learned the value of your precious cargo...and decided to take it from you...you, Mr. Losa, would spend your entire time trying to defend me. This means you won’t be able to defend your own life--or your ship--to the best of your abilities. Despite what I said earlier, you do not strike me as a fool.”

A fool Bishop Losa is not.

Theodosia has a point, but that is not the deciding factor.

In their two weeks at sea, Bishop has learned a valuable lesson. He can save himself a headache if he does what Theodosia asks. A woman not used to hearing “no,” as a response to her requests can be a true pain in the ass. If they weren’t so far from port, Bishop would have turned back and left her and her hefty ransom behind.

Before she can change her mind, Theodosia finds herself standing across from Bishop. The sword that is usually hanging around his hip is in her left hand. With the sword in her hand, her mind is blank. The casual and frankly unbothered expression on Bishop’s face makes her question her initial request.

Noting her hesitance, Bishop motions for Theodosia to step closer.

“Ladies first.”

Theodosia straightens her stance, struggling to gauge the exact position to hold the sword. The smile on her face is confident, but her voice not so much.

“And who said pirates have no manners?"

With her hat discarded, she struggles to keep her dark curls under control. The breeze pushes them into her face, her irritation hindering her focus.

She pushes them back from her face a third time. Her gaze examines the patiently waiting man. Although the tip of her blade is directed towards his chest, Bishop’s gaze is on hers. The determination he finds in her gaze tells Bishop all he needs to know.

She strikes first, as requested, swinging as hard as she can. But before her stroke is complete, her opponent is gone from her line of sight.

The sudden shift in the tide causes Theodosia to stumble forward.

A gasp escapes her lips as she slips, her bare feet shifting against the freshly scrubbed deck. She grimaces as her knees slam against the surface, her sword slipping from her grip.

Her head hangs forward, her eyes gripped shut as she listens to the chuckles that fill the air.

Heat floods her face, her eyes taking in the crew members who have suddenly abandoned their posts. They’ve gathered to watch the unfolding lesson, their eyes passing between their grinning captain and his opponent.

One member steps forward, picking up Theodosia's abandoned sword. He waits until she stands to offer it to her.

As she reaches for it, he pulls it back. He waits for her hand to fall to her side to speak.

"You're not gonna get far holdin' it like that, Miss."

Theodosia watches the quartermaster's eyes briefly pass over her shoulder to the waiting captain. As his eyes return to hers, they're as soft as the smile on his lips.

He shifts the sword, allowing her a better view of the placements of his fingers on the hilt.

"Always keep your sword up," he explains, shifting to demonstrate the correct stance. "Cap's quicker than he lets on. You wanna protect yourself."

"Right."

Turning to face Bishop, Theodosia watches as he motions for her to step forward. His request is the same as before.

“Try again.”

This time, Theodosia is not as rash as her previous attempt. The new information provided has shifted her focus. Now, instead of thinking of how to attack, she's worried about ensuring she's in the proper stance. Before she can blink, the captain is suddenly closer to her.

Entirely too close.

She instinctively takes a step back.

She remembers to keep her sword raised, but the sound of metal slicing through the air freezes her on the spot.

Her scream pierces the air as the steel of Bishop’s blade clangs with hers. The force of the contact ripples through her arm, widening her eyes.

He strikes a second time.

Her now lowered sword leaves her defenseless, allowing the tip of Bishop's blade to stop less than an inch from the base of her throat.

The once laughing crewmembers now watch silently, all focused on the terrified look in her eyes.

Bishop's voice breaks the silence.

“First lesson, Miss Bell. When you pick up a sword, no one cares that you’re a woman. They won't stop because you look scared. They’ll strike you down the same as a man.”

Bishop takes a step back. His blade taps lightly against her elbow forcing Theodosia to lift her sword.

“Second. Always stand your ground.”

“Stand my ground--what did you expect me to do? Just stand there while you tried to kill me!”

“If I was trying to, you wouldn't be standing,” Bishop chuckles, the smile on his lips having a surprising effect. A calming effect that helps her take a breath. Seeing the captain smile was such a rare occasion. It caused her to give him a soft one in return. “But now you know, you never want a blade that closes to your throat again.”

“Fine, what else do I need to know?”

“Number three. Anyone can swing a sword.” He allows the blade of his to tap the side of his shoe. “Footwork is the most important part. Doesn’t matter how fast you strike if you can’t escape your opponent's return.”

He watches her eyes glance down to his feet. She shifts to mimic his stance, taking a moment to find her balance on the shifting deck.

To her annoyance, it takes Theodosia a long time to use everything thrown her way. Trying to remember stances, the correct way to hold, the correct way to strike, the correct way to parry--it leaves her head swimming. Her problem is she gets frustrated with each of her missteps. Not being perfect at a skill is foreign territory. The usually short-tempered captain is patient, forcing her to push her frustrations aside as he asks her to identify her mistakes.

There is no need for Theodosia to worry about hurting Bishop. She is practicing with the most skilled swordsman to ever sell the seas. There are moments when her blade comes close to cutting into his flesh or snagging his shirt. But, Bishop always manages to escape. It’s not until he sends a wink her way that Theodosia realizes each close moment was purposeful, a subtle attempt to boost her morale.

Overthinking may be her most unfavorable habit, but it is not her downfall.

It is the flashes of Bishop’s smile when she does something correctly. It is in one of those moments when he catches her off guard. One moment she’s focused on his smile. The next her eyes are gripped shut. Her back pressed against his heaving chest. The chill of his blade against her throat.

“I’d suggest that you yield, Miss Bell,” Bishop chuckles as her eyes open. “It’d be impossible for you to get out of this any other way.”

Theodosia can’t help but mirror the grin that is on her opponent's face.

“Not impossible,” she challenges, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Bishop’s stance wavers slightly as his eyes meet hers.

Despite the playfulness in her gaze, he is unable to foresee the kiss that follows her statement.

Her lips press a kiss against his cheek, the action loosening his grip around her.

Her giggle fills the air as Bishop lowers his sword to his side, his head shaking as she escapes his grip.

The smile she finds on his lips arches her eyebrow.

“Careful, Mr. Losa,” she giggles. “Wouldn’t want your crew to find out their captain actually knows how to smile.”

mayans tags: @just1bri @jakiki94 @wabi-sabi1090 @mt2413 @ilikechocolatemilkh @lovebennycolon @montanaraed @aria725 @sesamepancakes @noz4a2 @crxssourbones @crashbarbie @leahnicole1219 @sillygoose6969 @minnicelli @trulysuccubus @trhett21 @whatupitshuff @futureleo1678 @babaohhhriley @helli4nthus @wiccanmetallicrose @losolvidad0s @abbiesthings @the-jer-bear @binooo98 @gemini0410 @thelovelyleo23 @mariaxliliana @themarkblues @kimljn @thesandbeneathmytoes @crashbarbie @cyka1312 @noz4a2 @zoovent @lakamaa12 @making-starsdance @keithseabrook27

all stories tags: @wabi-sabi1090 @jad3djay @crowngold @cant-decide-at-this-moment @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @leahnicole1219 @starrynite7114 @awkwardtayler @toni9 @queenbeered @kaystacks17 @richonne4life @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @sadeyesgf @brattyfics @sincerelykas @ladyofsoa @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @rosieposie0624 @appropriate-writers-name @demonquartz @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @beiroviski @chaneajoyyy @frostingguru @seize-the-droid @cutiebubbleboo @siempremamita @awkwardtayler @relaxing-najee @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @toni9

#may the queue be with you #divider: firefly-graphics #let me know what you think #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x oc #kiss challenge #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #mayans imagines #mayans fic #Mayans mc

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safertokiss · 4 years

Text

Hate the Game, Love the Player

A/N: Let the fun times ensue! I really liked this prompt and a story kinda just wrote itself in my chaotic brain so here we are. I relate to this prompt greatly, I will admit, so it was extremely easy to channel. Anyways, thanks for reading and life’s a party.

Prompt: "spence i fucking hate chess. i just like spending time with you." (Anonymous)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and SMUT

Word Count: 4k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

Spencer Reid. Spencer Fucking Reid. What a man.

You had been pretty much in love with the resident genius since the second you stepped foot into the BAU for your first day over a year ago. You could remember your first meeting plain as day, the way he stuttered out an introduction while a bright blush covered his entire figure, the way he fiddled with his hands to stay grounded in the moment. You had found the whole interaction very adorable and had decided in that moment that your heart belonged to him.

You guys had hit it off almost immediately, surprising absolutely no one on the team, and a beautiful friendship quickly bloomed between the two of you. While you certainly loved being his best friend and colleague, you were stuck.

As more and more time passed with Spencer at your side, you couldn't stop the feelings you harbored for him from dramatically increasing. You had always read those stupid, sappy romance books that, more often than not, revolved around a close friendship being troubled by one half of the duo catching feelings for the other. Even worse were the stories where they didn’t end up together. You hoped that that wasn’t going to be the case for you and the doctor.

Of course the feelings weren’t just one-sided. It was blatantly obvious to pretty much everyone on the team, yourself included, that he felt the same exact way about you, and while the knowledge of his affection was encouraging, it didn’t amount to much because you knew he wasn’t the type to admit his feelings outright, especially to a female. Since there was no way in hell he was going to make the first move, you had been trying your hardest to make your advances as obvious and clear as humanly possible, hoping that at least one of them would finally lead to more. You had reached a point where you were so desperate you were willing to do the unspeakable for him. It was time to do the completely unimaginable.

“Hey Spence!” You watched his body jump slightly before swirling around in his chair to make eye contact with you, giving you a perfect view of his figure. He looked especially good today for some reason and you suspected that had something to do with your sudden willingness to go through with the one thing you had hoped you would never have to do. “Yeah?”

Oh boy here we go, now or never. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to maybe teach me how to play chess sometime? I’ve been meaning to learn how for quite a while now.” You certainly didn’t miss the way his face lit up with excitement at your question, quickly confirming that you had had the right idea and made the right decision asking.

“R-really? You’d actually want to do that? Oh wow, I’d love to teach you sometime! Maybe uh, if you want of course, you could come over tonight after work and we could start then. I’ll even um-I’ll even try not to win so you could have some fun! Oh um-uh not that you wouldn’t be able to win on your own, it’s just that-”

“Spence, slow down”, you said with a chuckle, unable to contain the smile that covered your lips. “Tonight sounds great. I’ll meet you at your place after we get out of here, ok?” The stupid childlike grin that spread across his face was intoxicating and made you somehow fall even deeper in love with him. It was honestly baffling that someone as seemingly perfect as him could actually exist. God, how you hoped the two of you would at last grow some balls tonight and do something, finally putting that built-up tension to rest. Well, hopefully not to rest. You certainly wouldn’t mind it sticking around forever, as long as he was by your side to ease the borderline torture whenever it reared it’s ugly head.

“Ok uh-yeah that sounds awesome! S-see you tonight then. Oh and don’t forget to bring earplugs for when you inevitably get tired of hearing me explain the complexities of the game for the thousandth time”, he shyly added at the end. You didn’t even attempt to stop the lighthearted snort that escaped at his words. Like you could ever possibly grow tired of listening to him? That’s a big, fat negative. Giving you one last wide grin, he spun back around and began working on his files again, leaving you vulnerable to the not exactly innocent thoughts swirling around in your head.

You were going over his house tonight, the two of you would be all alone. Sure, you had been over there plenty of times before for various reasons, but this felt significantly different for some reason. Maybe that was down to the fact that you fully intended on making some kind of move tonight, in turn, hopefully, making your intentions completely clear to him. You had no definite way of knowing how far things would end up going later, but you certainly had a preference of where you wanted things to end up. Too many days had been spent pining over the young doctor, and at this point it was the only thing you could think of that would satisfy your desires.

Would he even want to though? As close as the two of you were, the topic of sex or anything even remotely sexual never seemed to breech into your conversations, as much as that disappointed you. It wasn’t exactly that you were worried about him not being into that kind of stuff, it was more of a deep rooted insecurity that often made you question whether or not he would ever want to do something of the sort with you. You quickly pushed the thought out of your head, deciding that the only way you were ever going to know for sure was if you worked up the courage to make some sort of significant advance in his direction tonight.

Eventually ignoring your raging inner thoughts and returning to the task at hand, you couldn’t help but check the clock every few minutes, anxiously counting the minutes until you were able to leave this place and get to his.

~~~

You had all but sprinted out of the office earlier once your shift had come to an end, rushing to get to your car so you could leave.

The excitement that had been pumping through your veins was intoxicating and made you question all the seemingly silly nerves you had felt building up throughout the day. What was there to be nervous about? It was just chess. However, as you pulled into his apartment complex’s lot, you realized that it was so much more than just chess and the nerves came rushing back through you like a fucking tsunami.

You didn’t even want to discuss the way you felt right now, perched directly outside of his apartment, dazedly staring at the wooden door. Was it too late to just turn around, go home and forget that this whole damn thing ever even happened. A lucid fever dream, that’s what this could be if you just left.

No. You wanted and needed this. Here’s hoping Spencer did too.

You cautiously raised your fist before gently knocking on the rough surface a couple of times. You were able to hear some slight movement from inside and just as you were taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself down a bit more, the door swung open, an equally nervous and excited looking Spencer now standing opposite you. God he was so pretty.

“Hi”, he quietly spoke, his eyes absentmindedly sweeping across your frame. You were easily able to detect the anticipation that radiated off of him in waves, the same feeling emanating from deep within you as well. “Hey Spence”, you breathily whispered, a shy smile gracing your lips.

After a brief moment of just silently staring at each other, Spencer snapped out of his apparent stupor and awkwardly angled his body to the side so you could come inside, gently shutting the door behind you. Immediately after entering his apartment your eyes drifted to the kitchen, noticing that he had somehow managed to cook dinner for the two of you in the very short time since you guys had gotten out of work, him leaving the office slightly earlier than you did. The kind gesture made you feel warm inside, the situation as a whole feeling amazingly domestic.

“Oh my god. Spence, you really didn’t have to do all this. It smells amazing!” You watched the young doctor ripen into a tomato at your words, feeling your desire for him deepen even further. He blindly followed you as you made your way towards the kitchen to investigate his hard work, passing by the fancy, little chess board you had always ignored before on the way. “It’s no problem at all Y/n, can’t have you learning on an empty stomach right?”, he teased as you let out a light giggle at his thought process. “I suppose you are the doctor here”, you answered with a joking tone. “Shall we then?” Suddenly feeling much more comfortable in each other’s presence, the two of you quickly ate, Spencer’s cooking completely blowing your mind.

“Ok as amazing as that was Spence, I believe it’s chess learning time!” You succeeded in portraying genuine excitement at your statement, simply opting to instead think about all the possibilities of what could happen, rather than the game itself. The evident excitement that exuded from his slim figure was more than enough encouragement for you to get the ball rolling and waltz over to the mahogany table, promptly assuming your position across from him. “All you Reid, I’m completely at your mercy.” You saw him swallow hard at your choice of words and found yourself slyly smirking at his reaction. Quickly clearing his throat, he jumped right into things.

“O-ok so basically to start off there’s um-six classes or ranks for the pieces. You have the pawns, the rooks, the knights, bishops, kings and queens and uh-each different rank has their own move set or “abilities”, if you will. Before every game there’s a specific order that they…”

You tried. You really, really tried to focus on what he was saying, but there was no stopping your mind from wandering to more pressing matters. For example: how unbelievably hot he looked rambling excitedly about one of the most boring things on the planet. He made you actually look forward to playing. In all honesty, you already knew how to play the dreadful game, thanks to years and years of mandatory family bonding time with your dad when you were younger. Spencer didn’t need to know that though.

Eventually his instructional spiel had come to an end, the two of you now having moved on to a couple practice rounds to get the hang of things. You hated fibbing to him about your previous experience with the game, but it was well worth it to see the way his face lit up with every word that fell from his lips. After engaging in several “practice” games, Spencer had deemed you suitable for the real deal, offering to still help you along the way if you needed it, for which you thanked him.

The first few trial games that you guys played through went by pretty smoothly and while you were nowhere near beating him, you were able to hold your own weight fairly well. Sure, you had had previous experience from your childhood, but it had been so long you found your skills were kind of rusty and they presented themselves as such. The longer you both played the more you remembered, reaching the point where you were actually rivalling him and giving him some sort of competition. You could see how impressed he was with you, but there also seemed to be some layer of pride boiling underneath the surface. While you loved his reactions to your “newly” acquired skills, things were going much too slow for your liking and you knew exactly what to do.

“How about we up the stakes a little bit, hmmm?” He looked up at your words, a curious look crossing over his features.

“What did you have in mind?” You watched him visibly gulp at the suggestive smirk that slowly adorned your face. Momentarily ignoring his question, you began to reset the board, the clinking of game pieces being the only sound filling the apartment, that and Spencer’s bated breath as he waited for a response.

“Ok, I’m sure you’ve heard of strip poker before?” You watched him hesitantly nod his head in agreement before continuing. “Well how about we play some strip chess, make things a bit more exciting, yeah?” The speed at which a blush overtook his features would’ve been alarming to anyone else on the planet, except for you of course, who found it utterly adorable.

“I uhh-I y-yeah, sure. Sure! We can do that. It sounds kind of...fun? What um-how would that work exactly?” You gave him a bright smile at the evident eagerness laced within his words before explaining your thought process on specific rules for the game.

“Well I’m thinking that we don’t have enough layers on to remove something everytime we capture an opponent’s piece...soooo..maybe every two pieces captured by the other person you have to take something off? Yeah that sounds like it should work. Good?” You watched him seem to mull over things quickly in his head before nodding with slightly more confidence than he had exuded before. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Around twenty minutes later, the two of you were stripped down to the bare minimum, you in just your panties and bra, him in his boxers, both of you finally seeming to understand the weight of the current situation you were in. You certainly hadn’t expected to give Spencer this big of a run for his money, but you were glad you were able to best him at least a few times. However, depending on the next few moves, you guys were so close to crossing a line that neither of you could possibly come back from.

Unfortunately, while you were too busy worrying about what was about to happen, Spencer had cornered one of your pieces and captured it, making it his second piece of yours captured since the last article of your clothing had come off. His head jerked up towards you as he realized what his small victory meant. Shit. Were you really about to expose yourself to him, willingly at that?

Yes. Yes you were.

Spencer watched with wide eyes and labored breathing as you slowly reached behind your back to undo the clasps on your bra, the material falling forward slightly, until you removed the straps making the lacy garment come off completely, sending a shy smile in his direction. You swear you saw his eyes darken as they widened even further at your bold movement, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of your bare chest right there in front of him. Unable to think about it too long and suddenly emboldened by his reactions, you quickly made your next move while he was basically hypnotized by your tits. Maybe this could work to your advantage after all.

Realizing that the boy genius wasn’t planning on moving anytime soon, seemingly too invested in his personal peepshow, you snapped your fingers in front of his face to grab his attention. His eyes immediately snapped up to meet yours, embarrassment coating his face as he cleared his throat. “Oh I-um-sorry. I was a bit d-distracted”, he nervously chuckled, aware he had been caught ogling your body like a horny teenager, not that you minded in the slightest.

You could easily tell how frazzled the young doctor still was as he took his turn, making a move that there was no way in hell Spencer would have ever made with a clear mind. An excited smirk graced your face as you registered what he had just done. And based on the way his eyebrows furrowed, it seemed as though he had too. No fucking way.

“I uhh-uhh...shit. I-I um…”

Making sure to maintain steady eye contact with him, you slowly leaned over the table, your breasts pushing together perfectly to compliment the show you were putting on, and confidently made your final move.

“Checkmate.”

As the two of you sat there just staring at each other, you noticed his breathing becoming more and more labored, his eyes completely black with desire, yours probably looking the same.

Fuck it, let’s go.

The speed at which you shoved the board clean off the table and climbed across it into his lap was astounding, immediately smashing your lips together as you successfully straddled him. He moaned into your mouth at your eagerness and it only egged you on further, roughly tugging on his hair as your lips moved in synchronicity. Reluctantly prying your lips away from his, you stared directly into his black orbs, your chest heaving.

“I want you.” You watched his pupils dilate at your words, a low groan leaving his lips.

“I want you”, he reciprocated with sincerity in his tone. Moaning at his agreement and admission you desperately reunited your mouths as he swifty lifted you onto the mahogany table, stepping in between your welcoming legs so your bodies were as close as possible.

You both needed this. Badly. It was inevitable that at some point the two of you would finally snap, mutually ravaging each other in the most animalistic of ways. It was like a switch flipped inside the two of you, totally disregarding the way you normally acted on a day to day basis. Honestly you had no idea Spencer had it in him, this feral, primal side of him. But you fucking loved it.

As soon as he stepped between your legs and reconnected your lips, his large hands pawed at your chest, squeezing the pillowy flesh like it was his favorite hobby. The moans pouring from your lips only fueled him further, his grip becoming noticeably stronger. Letting his hands roam wherever they pleased on your body, you raked your own up and down his chest, bright red streaks left behind in their wake, making him groan uncontrollably.

“God Y/n, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Since the moment you walked in I haven’t been able to control myself around you. You drive me fucking insane.” His words only increased the veracity behind your moans as you reached down to palm him through his boxers, which weren’t doing much to hide his rather large excitement. He threw his head back with a groan, his mussed hair protruding in every direction possible. “Spencer pleaseee!”, you begged, desperate for him to touch you and give you more. You needed more.

Seemingly getting the hint, he immediately ripped your panties off before roughly thrusting his fingers into you, exploring your heat eagerly, moaning at the overwhelming warmth and wetness surrounding them. You cried out at the intrusion, instantly latching onto him, your nails digging into his back as your body arched into him. Your reactions drove him insane, his digits consistently pumping in and out of you, making your whole body tremble as you felt your release speedily approaching.

“That’s it baby, let go.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you felt yourself completely tense up before releasing all of the tension in a blissful moment, a high-pitched whine escaping your lips. “Spencer!” He watched with hooded eyes as he pushed you over the edge, evident pride rushing through his veins. The fire inside of you came rushing back, reigniting every inch of your body, craving for more.

You tugged on the hem of his boxers, trying to convey your desires, watching him get the hint fairly quickly and hastily remove them before stepping back between your legs. Surging forward you latched your lips onto his and wrapped your legs around his waist, effectively tethering himself to you and urging him to continue. You could feel him hot and heavy against the inside of your thigh, but it simply wasn’t enough, him seemingly thinking the same thing, soon feeling him position himself against your throbbing core.

Both panting with anticipation and desire, he looked up into your eyes, searching for any kind of sign that this was for sure what you wanted. You frantically nodded your head, a desperate gleam in your eyes. “Please Spence! I need you!”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, the young doctor let out a feral growl before thrusting his entire length into you on the first stroke. You both whined out at the feeling, latching on to each other like your lives depended on it. “Holy shit, Y/n. You feel so fucking good.” His words triggered an unnecessarily loud moan to escape your throat, feeling yourself unwillingly tighten around his cock. The pace he set was brutal as he pounded you into the table over and over again.

That stupid chess table. You could confidently say that this was worlds better than any of the many games you had both played earlier in the night. If things worked out your way the two of you would be doing this a lot more often instead of playing chess.

Even though the two of you had only been going at it for a fairly short time, you could already feel your climax speedily approaching and, based on the way he kept scrunching up his face, you’d guess he wasn’t very far behind.

“Spencer please! I’m so close, baby please!”

The guttural groan that escaped him was sinful and ignited your insides with a fire that you didn’t even know existed within you. As he roughly thrusted into you, your body slamming against the hard surface below you, you felt yourself quickly tumble over the edge, your vision going spotty at the intensity of your orgasm. The way you screamed out his name and clenched around his cock was too much for Spencer to handle, him following you closely behind and filling you up completely with his seed.

The two of you held onto each other desperately as you waited for your bated breaths to return to normal, a light sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Giving you a soft smile, drastically different from the man who had been inside you moments ago, he carefully removed himself from you before walking to the kitchen to get some towels. After cleaning the two of you up, he gently picked you up and carried you to his bedroom, both of you settling immediately under the sheets, clinging to each other.

As Spencer softly played with your hair in the comfortable silence, you could feel the two of you giving into the slumber that was calling out to you. However before you gave in, you needed him to know how you truly felt.

“Hey Spence?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I fucking hate chess. I just like spending time with you.” He chuckled softly before responding.

“I like spending time with you too.”

Taglist: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @victomizedbyreginageorge @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @gretaamyk @httpnxtt @rachelxwayne @watermelonstyl @goldnratio @cheyxminds

#cm fic #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencerreidsmut #smut #fluff #cm smut #mgg #matthewgrayguber #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #mgg fic

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Catching Feelings

Bishop Losa x Reader

Request from my fave @masterlistforimagines: the classic friends with benefits, but someone caught feelings trope for Bish

Warnings: light angst, language

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I didn’t turn this into a smutty request solely because I got super wrapped up in Bish’s feelings haha. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Bish Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know!)

You were shimmying back into your jeans, trying to pretend that you didn’t feel Bishop’s eyes on you. It was late, and you had an early morning coming up. The thought of prolonging your stay a little bit was tempting, but you knew that you’d pay for it once your alarm went off in the morning. Bishop was lying on the bed, chin resting in the palm of his hand. You did your best not to look at him for too long because you knew that if you did, it would be too easy to talk you into staying.

“You could just stay here, you know,” he offered up with a smile.

You chuckled and shook your head. It wouldn’t have been the first time you stayed over, and if you didn’t have plans the next day you might’ve. “Not tonight, Bish.”

“Suit yourself,” there was a smug grin on his face as he watched you pull a shirt on over your head.

“Can’t make it too easy on you, can I? Takes all the fun out of it,” you winked, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You blew him a kiss before heading out of the bedroom and leaving the house.

He listened intently for the sound of your car starting. When the sound of the engine faded away, he let out a sigh. He sat upright, running his hands down his face. For someone who had thought that the idea of friends with benefits was childish and that he was too old for it, he wasn’t able to say no to you when you had pitched the idea. You both had busy lives that didn’t make it easy to have romantic relationships, and there was no denying the comfort and attraction that was there between the two of you, so it just seemed to make sense.

You weren’t sober when you finally blurted out the idea to him. The two of you were staying late at the clubhouse together one night after a rough couple of days, burning through beer bottles faster than you should’ve been. He’d been flirting with you all night, but that wasn’t something out of the ordinary, and you certainly weren’t the only woman he was flirtatious with. But you noticed that when women tried to push it any farther, he would send them off. He’d do it nicely, but he would make sure they didn’t overstay their welcome.

“How do you not have someone down on lock yet, Bish?” you laughed as you sipped on your beer.

He smiled, shaking his head at you from across the table, “I guess you could say that I am not the easiest man to be with, Y/N.”

“Alright fair. But you never even give these girls a chance to, you know,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, “relieve some of your tension.”

He laughed, “I’m in no position to be having a string of one-night stands. I leave that to the young bucks patching in. They’re young and stupid enough to think it’s a good idea.”

“Hm,” you thought about your response for a moment, “What about a fuck-buddy?”

He raised an eyebrow, “A what?”

You laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder, “You know, a friend with benefits. No strings attached kind of deal, just sex. You get the consistency of one person so you don’t need to worry about getting tested for something every couple of weeks,” you laughed, “Plus, it’ll be with someone that you can actually stand to hang out with once you’re done fucking. Win-win for everybody.”

His eyes searched yours, trying to figure out what your end-goal was with this conversation, “I’m not in my twenties anymore, Y/N. I think I’ve aged out of the friends with benefits category.”

You smirked, slowly running your foot up his leg underneath the table, “I beg to differ.”

And the rest was history. It’d been a few months since that first night and things had been going smoothly. The two of you kept your business private since he was the president of the MC, but you knew that the guys had their assumptions. Neither you nor Bishop ever commented one way or another when they would try to bring it up. You liked the sense of mystery, and the fact that it felt a little bit like a game at times. You’d push boundaries with him every now and then, just to see how worked up you’d be able to get him at the clubhouse without anyone noticing. And for a man who said that he was too old to be friends with benefits, he sure seemed to be benefiting a lot.

His mind raced with the events of the past few months. At first, he was certain that surely it couldn’t be that simple, that the two of you could remain friends and just have sex with each other when it was convenient. But that was exactly what had been happening, and you hadn’t changed the way you treated him at all. He was still your friend, and someone that you valued and respected, but never once throughout the course of the weeks of late-night and post-run rendezvous had you ever tried to pressure him into something more. He was impressed that you were able to compartmentalize so well.

He just wished that he was able to do the same thing.

As the days continued to tick by, he realized that maybe he wasn’t cut out to do the whole friends with benefits thing, but not because it was only something that young people did. He began to think that maybe he couldn’t handle it because the more time that he spent with you, the more times that he got to hold you and kiss you and make you tremble underneath his touch, the more he realized that he didn’t want to just be your friend. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was starting to have feelings for you. There were times in the morning when he’d see you getting dressed and all he could think about was how nice it would be if he got to be with you every morning while you got ready for work, and you’d be there for him every night when he came home after dealing with the club and all the chaos it brought him. His mind would wander off with thoughts of what it would be like to really be with you, to finally settle down, and it was getting harder and harder to pull himself out of those thoughts.

He stared at his phone screen, waiting for your text letting him know that you had gotten home safe. You didn’t live terribly far, but he still wanted to know that you made it okay. He smiled when your name lit up his phone screen, “I’m home. You can go to sleep now”. He smiled as he typed out his reply, “Thank you. Got plans tomorrow night?”

A few minutes passed before your reply came, “Why? Miss me already?”

He paused for a moment, trying to really think out his reply. He was second-guessing everything he said, not wanting to lose you, “Something like that, yea”

“I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for you”

He smiled, deciding to leave it at that. He set his phone off to the side and rolled so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if you were just really good at pretending that you weren’t starting to develop feelings for him too. When the two of you agreed to this whole arrangement, he worried at first that you had suggested it because you already were falling for him. Now he was thinking that maybe he let his ego get to him a little bit by thinking that and it was coming back to bite him. He sighed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to force himself to go to sleep without dwelling on the fact that his bed felt empty without you in it.

You stopped by the clubhouse after work the next day to see him for a few minutes. He was seated outside on the deck and you plopped down across from him with a smile, “Presidente.”

He smiled at you, “Y/N, didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You laughed, “I told you I’d see if I could clear my schedule for you.”

“Weren’t sure if you were going to be able to follow through,” he watched as you reached across the table and took his beer, taking a sip from the bottle with a smirk on your face.

“I’ll always find a way to make time for you, Obispo,” you gave him his beer back.

He looked at you and he felt his heart pound harder inside his chest. The two of you had agreed that if one of you became uncomfortable with anything about your situation, you’d both back off with no questions asked. He wondered if he should cash in on that clause, but he didn’t want to give up the closeness he got to have with you.

“I actually meant to reach out to you earlier,” he hated the words even as he was saying them, “Some shit came up with the club. Got some stuff we need to handle tonight.”

“Oh,” you’d been looking forward to seeing him again, but you knew that this exact situation was why the two of you had gotten into things in the first place, “okay. Raincheck?”

He nodded, “Yea. Sorry to bail on you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No need to apologize,” you stood up from the table and patted his back as you walked behind him, “I’m not your girlfriend, Bish. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Not like you owe me anything,” you leaned down and kissed his temple, “You and the boys be safe out there. Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, alright?”

A small smile crossed his face for a moment, “Alright.”

He watched as you sauntered off and hopped in your car, driving off without giving it another thought. He hated lying to you, but he thought that maybe if he gave him a few days to cool off and get his mind in order, the feelings would go away too. Maybe he was just thinking too far into it. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to give you up.

A few days passed and you hadn’t heard much from him. You were a little hurt at first, but then you remembered who you were dealing with. He had bigger problems on his plate than budgeting in time to sneak off and hook up with you. It was a little odd only because up until then you two had managed to make things work well and see each other frequently. But it was practically radio silence on his end. You’d text him a couple times a day to make sure he was alright, and his responses were short. You tried to think if you had something to him that would upset him, but nothing was coming to mind.

You parked your car and made your way over to the office, hoping that Chucky would be there and know where the guys were. Bishop had blamed his curtness and inability to see you on club shit, and you were starting to question just how honest he was being with you about it all.

Chucky’s face lit up when you walked into the office, “Y/N, what a pleasure it is to see you.”

You smiled, “Pleasure’s all mine, Chucky,” you drummed your fingers on the counter, “Bishop around?”

“El Presidente?” he nodded, “I believe they had Templo. Might be done by now, though.”

“Thank you. Stay handsome,” you shot him a wink as you walked out of the office and made your way to the clubhouse.

You walked in, scanning over the room to see where everyone was at. Sure enough, you saw Bishop sat at the table with Hank and Taza. The three of them seemed awfully relaxed for a group of men who had apparently been incredibly wrapped up in stressful club shit for the past week. You walked over to the table with a smile, not wanting to make things weird.

“Hey boys,” you rested one hand on Bishop’s shoulder.

“Y/N,” Taza offered you a warm smile, “good to see you. We’ve missed you lately.”

You chuckled, wishing you could see what Bishop’s face looked like, “Yea, sorry, just been a little crazy on my end lately,” you tapped your fingers onto Bishop’s shoulder, “Can I borrow you for a second, Pres? Something I need to talk to you about.”

He cleared his throat, and you could feel his body tense underneath your hand, “Uh, yea, of course,” he stood up and nodded towards Templo, “This way.”

You flashed the other two men a smile and a wave before walking towards the back room, Bishop right on your heels. He slid the door shut behind him and did his best to avoid making direct eye contact with you as the both of you stood there.

“So,” you leaned back against the table, “how are things?”

“Things are…fine,” his eyes were glued to the ground.

“Oh? Are they? I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly heard from you in a week.”

“You said it yourself—I don’t owe you anything.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“What? I thought this was supposed to be no strings attached.”

“Yea, but you’re still my friend. Even before we started hooking up I at least felt like I could have a conversation with you that didn’t feel like I was pulling your fucking teeth,” you waited for him to finally look you in the eyes, “Did I do something? If you don’t wanna hook up with me anymore just say it. Don’t try to ice me out—I deserve better than that. I told you from the jump that we could go back to being friends with no questions asked. I’m not gonna hold it against you if you’re over this whole thing.”

He saw the look on your face and he knew that you meant every word that you said, and it hurt. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t want you to be able to give him up that easily.

After a long minute of silence you spoke up again, “Be real with me, Obispo. Do you still want this?”

He shook his head, “No.”

It stung, but you weren’t going to go back on your promise—you weren’t going to hold it against him, “Alright. That’s all you had to say. We good? I don’t want shit to be weird from here on out,” there was another long stretch of silence and you could feel the frustration bubbling up inside you. you had assumed that Bishop would be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing, especially since he was the one who was breaking it off, but apparently you were wrong. Men really didn’t mature more as they got older. You shook your head, “Fuck, Bish. I really thought that we were going to be able to be adults about this. Sorry I bothered.”

You turned on your heel and made your way towards the door. Before you could grab onto it and slide it open, he finally forced himself to speak up, “Hey, wait.”

You turned with a sigh, “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Yea, you made that pretty fucking clear already.”

“No,” he closed the space between you and you could feel the heat radiating off of him, “I mean, I can’t do this with no strings attached. I thought that I could. Honestly, I thought that you were going to be the one that got wrapped up in your feelings.”

You smirked, “Cocky, but continue.”

It got him to smile a little bit, “But I could see it in your eyes that you were true to your word. You were completely detached from everything between us. And I was too, at first. But, fuck, Y/N, somewhere along the way I stopped caring about just the sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. But the way I felt when I would see that you were calling me, or when I would hear you walk through my front door when you knew I’d gotten home from a run? I knew that had nothing to do with friendship, or sex. And the way I hated every time you’d get dressed and leave and I knew that you were going back to your own empty bed while I was lying in mine drove me insane. I hate it,” he took a deep breath, “I wasn’t ready to give you up. If the only way for me to have you was like this, then I was willing to do that. But it kills me to know that I want more, and you are content with what we have.”

He threw a lot at you all at once, and your brain was still trying to process it all. The idea of being in a relationship with Bishop had crossed your mind on numerous occasions. You never let it linger though, not when you knew what kind of life he led and the kind of man he was. If you thought that he would’ve been game for a relationship right out the gate you would’ve said something. This was a development that you hadn’t seen coming. The only reason you didn’t get twisted up about your arrangement was because in your mind, there was no alternative. You were either friends who were having sex, or you were just friends. There was never anything on the other side of the spectrum, or at least that’s what you had thought.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally asked.

“I am now.”

“Obispo, listen, I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that I respect more than you. You’re my best friend, and these past few months have been insanely fun. I’ve loved being able to spend so much time with you. I like who I am when I’m with you. If you wanted something more you should’ve just said something—we’re both adults. I’d like to think that we could handle that conversation.”

“I didn’t want you to shut me out if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“You really think I’d do that?”

He paused, shaking his head, “No.”

You cupped his face in your hands, “So, what exactly do you want from me, Obispo?”

He rested his hands on top of yours, “I want you to give me a chance to really be your man. All the time, not just on late nights and weekends,” he scooped you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he held you up, “Could you do that for me?”

You laughed, nodding as your hands rested on the back of his neck, “I think I could do that.”

He walked over and set you down on the edge of the table. You unhooked your legs from around him so that he was now standing between them. He leaned in and brought your lips to his. The kiss was soft but still needy, and in that moment you wondered how you hadn’t seen this coming all along.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I don’t think I’d ever be able to give you up.”

You smiled, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your waist, “I don’t think I’d ever ask you to.”

You felt him laugh quietly as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck. You smiled, biting back a giggle as his beard tickled your neck. He kissed your throat gently as he leaned into you. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close to you, one hand resting gently on the back of his head. A smile crept across your face as you felt him let out a long, relieved sigh as he ran his hands up and down your back.

“Can we go back to your place?” you said after a few minutes of silence between you.

He pulled back and looked at you with a smile, “I’d like that.”

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ll even spend the night this time.”

He chuckled, “Oh yea?”

You hopped down off the table and tugged him towards the door, “Yes. You’re in for a long night, Obispo.”

He shook his head with a smile, “I don’t doubt it.”

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

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venactricisfics · 3 years

Text

Malibu Desert

@just1bri @redwolfs-world @wonderlust75 @queenbeered

@sickofbitches

Master List

It was supposed to be settled.

Twenty

“So how much should I order for the party next week?” I analyze the list of food, booze, and supplies I had to order for EZ’s patch party. Or I suppose depending on the vote it would be a normal Friday night party at the clubhouse. Bishop didn’t or couldn’t tell me which way the club was leaning. I saw how proud he looked when EZ did things for the club. The way he would handle club business.

And EZ had become his prospect. I heard some of the stories about Angel being his sponsor in the beginning and how blood and the patch were getting confused. I had a feeling there was more to the story. But that’s all I could get out of any of them.

“I think it’ll just be the club,” Bishop pulls my hair from my neck to press his lips there. “But could be more. Maybe getting another delivery from SAMCRO. Ramos and Canche texted me and are coming down too. Don’t know if they’ll still be here for that.” His fingers work the muscles in my back, “You don’t have to do all this, querida. That’s what we have prospects for.”

“I won’t let EZ plan his own party,” I let my eyes close and I just feel his hands and lips on me. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You don’t know if it’s gonna be EZ’s party, Hermosa,” his hand dips down the front of my shirt. I let out a soft moan as his fingertips danced over my nipple. Bringing it to a hardened peak. My head falls back against his chest and I let him distract me from my task. A welcome distraction.

Or it would have been until the shrill of both of our phones pulled us from our activities. I would have ignored it but no one called me, not unless it was important. And the number that popped up on the screen was from Charming.

I couldn’t hear the words from the other end of Bishop’s line but I heard the familiar Scottish accent. And on mine, I got Montez, the Road Captian, from SAMCRO. I met him briefly in Charming a few months ago. “Chibs wants a sit-down,” he says.

“I know, he’s on the phone with Bishop now,” I respond, “What’s this about?”

“Just about our mutual business dealings,” he stated. Guns. The email I got from Declan a few days ago said as much without saying anything at all.

“I get it, but this is more club business, isn’t it?” I quirk a brow as I stand from my seat. Bishop had paced off to have a more discrete conversion with the SAMCRO president.

“You should be there,” he says, “Chibs wants you there.”

“OK,” I responded, “I’ll be there. I’ll leave it to the club to make the arrangements.” Without another word, I end the call. I hear Bishop’s boots on the hardwood floor behind me.

“Church?” I ask and he nods,” Well there goes our quiet morning.” I stand up from the kitchen table, my hands cup his face, and press my lips to his. “Just let me know where we’re heading and for how long once you know. I need to get a shower and get ready. Then I can meet you at the clubhouse.”

“I still don’t like you involved in the shit we do,” he tells me. It wasn’t something I pressed. I stayed back dealing mainly with the back-end stuff, letting Chibs and Declan handle the stuff on the ground.

“I know,” I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold him for a brief moment before letting him leave to do club business.

---

I toss an overnight bag in the back of my SUV. Just a couple changes of clothes for me and Bishop just in case. Text from Taza said we were meeting at a lodge at 8. Leaving from the clubhouse at 2. Club messages were always cryptic. No details, just exactly what I needed to know. And only what I needed to know.

I pulled into the parking lot of the scrapyard. “Jefe wants you to ride in the van with me,” Creeper says as he takes my bag.

“Why?” I ask sharper than intended, “No offense.”

“I don’t ask questions,” he replies, “but he’s inside.”

“You’re putting me in the van?” my eyes narrowed as I walked inside, word oozing with irritation. Bishop was sitting at the table with Taza and Hank.

“Drop the tone and sit the fuck down,” Bishop’s eyes dark as he looks back at me. I let out a breath as I took a seat. Something about his commanding voice did something to me. I didn’t want to feel a pooling between my thighs when he talked to me that way but it happened. I wanted to be pissed at him for talking to me that way, but my body betrayed me.

“Alright,” I tuck a curl behind my ear, “Why am I riding in the van and not with you?”

“Me and my guys have to be on a united front,” he replied, “ with the Kings and the Reaper. No weakness.”

“So I make you weak?” my voice is shakier than I would like.

“You make me unfocused,” he stated, “we get there I’ve got to go up against the Cro and keep my shit together with the Kings. Can’t afford distractions.”

"I'm not planning a striptease or anything, I'm just going to be there," I straighten up in my seat, finding my voice again, "to protect my family's interest," My eyes lock with Bishop's, "Both of my families interests."

"You being there is enough," Bishop replied his voice slightly softer. "Ride up there in the van, querida."

"Ok," I conceded, "I suppose there won't be time for me to clean up before the meeting."

I watch out the windshield, the bikers' formation. It's different than I'd experienced before. The poetry was still there but I was no longer a part of it. Just a spectator. El Presidente flanked by his VP and his Sergeant at Arms, Gilly, Coco, and Angel road behind them EZ still took the rear.

"We'll be there soon, chica," Creeper's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Not as far as the last time we road together."

"Sorry, I haven't been the better riding companion," I tell him.

"Don't worry about it, I get it. My ol' lady never listens to me either," he chuckled.

"I didn't know you had a girl," I quirk a brow.

"She works nights so doesn't come to the clubhouse often," Creep responds. "She is her own woman, like you. She ain't like the club hang arounds."

"She sounds like a keeper," I smile at him, "I guess I do need to pick my battles. Club stuff can get complicated. Especially when emotions and business is involved.”

"Bish just wants to keep you safe. We all do," Creeper pulls the van to a stop.

"I know," I watch as my boys file their bikes into a parked row outside of the lodge. "I appreciate it. Even when I don't."

I adjust my boobs and slide my feet into a pair of heels. One benefit of riding in the van, the ability to wear my favorite strappy heels. I swing the door open and step out. The lodge is woody and manly. Very appropriate for the situation.

I smile at the feel of a familiar hand resting on the small of my back, "Let's get inside, Hermosa." I nod in return. Inside the scent of leather, smoke, and whiskey filled my nose. I stand nodding as Bishop and Taza go over the plans with the tribe leaders.

"If it isn't Bishop's Princesa irlandesa," Oso Ramos kisses my cheek before embracing Bishop in a bro hug.

"You remember Canche?" Bishop nods to the Yuma President.

"Nice to see you again," I offer a smile as I hug the man. Over the next half hour or so I hugged and kissed my way through another dozen or so burly bikers. I took my place at Bishop's side. I was given shows of respect being the ol' lady of a Mayan King. And the representative of the Irish Kings. This world embraced me in a way that the one I'd come from never had before.

"What'll you have to drink?" one of the guys asks.

"Whiskey and cranberry, please," I respond. The glass was handed to me an instant before the front doors of the lodge swing open and SAMCRO saunters through.

"Who do ya gotta fuck ta get a drink around here?" Chibs baritone unmistakable. The lips of the kings spread into a smile as they step up to welcome the Reaper crew. We have a drink then make our way into the conference room. The table stretched the length. SAMCRO seated on one side, Chibs shouldered by Happy, Montez, and the biggest biker I’d ever seen in my fucking life, Rane Quinn. The Mayan Kings sat on the other flanked by Taza and Hank.

My shoulders pushed back I keep my head held high as I take my seat at the head of the table. I couldn’t show that I was taking sides. Though clearly, I did have a bias. I listened as Chibs explains the delay in trading off the guns to the Mayans.

“The North Cali port authority has made the decision for us,” Chibs said, “they’re closing down the Mendocino port. The Irish have nowhere to bring their guns.”

“Shit,” Bishop says snuffing out his cigarette.

I look between the men and add, “There’s another shipment coming in two weeks but after that, until we find a new dealer. I talked to the Irish Kings,” I look from Bishop to Canche and Oso, then to Chibs, “I asked them to give us a little time to work out a new import strategy. SAMCRO has come up with something that could keep our business dealings going.”

“Sorry to drop this all on ya laps boys,” Chibs looks directly at Bishop. “But that’s the way it is.”

“You wanna bring ‘em South,” Bishop responds, “that’s why my crew is here.”

“Aye,” Chibs states, “way south. There’s an MC that runs the port down in Tijuana.”

“The Vatos Malditos,” Alvarez adds. The name didn’t ring the same recognition that it did for Bishop and the rest of my Mayans.

Bishop leans forward in his chair, “Shit, we just had a little run-in with the VM. I didn’t end well.”

“Well, fuck,” Chibs responded. I searched my recent memory for what the hell had happened and met Coco’s gaze.

“That thing with Letty?” I asked. He nodded his agreement.

“Their Prez is a friend of mine,” Montez adds, “He didn’t mention any beef.”

“You already talked to them?” Bishop asked.

“Aye, we had to make sure we could make a deal,” Chibs responded, “They’re coming up here.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me?” Hank grunted.

“If Palo didn’t mention it,” Montez states, “It means he’s willing to sit down and meet. Nothing is going go down while we’re here.”

“Is there any way things can be worked out with the VM?” I cut my eyes to Bishop then back to Chibs and Montez.

Bishop eyes Hank then talks softly to Canche and Oso. Reluctantly he sighs, “They come to the table we’re willing to talk, we are willing to listen.”

“It’s a beautiful thing,” Chibs responds. “Now until they get here I need another fucking drink.” I hang back at the table feeling a touch out of place as the guys filed out of the room. I couldn’t or wouldn’t try to influence Bishop’s decision but I knew that if this deal didn’t pan out, I could be cut out of my family’s business. And the business was my last remaining connection to my father.

“Yo, Malibu,” Angel’s voice interrupted my inner dialog. “Come outside and have a smoke.”

I looked up at him confused, “What are you talking about? I don’t smoke.”

“You look like you could use one,” he responded, “Or a good fuck but Bish is occupied with the Kings and can’t accommodate you right now.”

“You are an ass,” I stand up from the table and walk with him outside. The pounding of fist against flesh fills my ears, EZ on the ground punching the face of another Mayan.

“What the fuck?” Angel says, “He can’t hit a patch.”

“He can if I tell him to,” Coco responds.

“That’s fucked up, he put fucking hands on us,” the larger of the other Mayans shouts.

“He’s obeying orders,” Coco states with a smirk. I stand back watching this display of masculinity with a smile of my own. It was a welcome distraction from everything else that was going on.

“Y’all wanna bother the Kings with this petty shit right now?” Angel asks. EZ breathes hard stepping back. He got whatever it was that was in his system out.

I place my hand on his chest, “You good?”

“Yeah,” he responds, “I needed that.” EZ shrugs off and moves over with his brother.

I step past him and take a look at the guy he was fighting, his face bloody. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Dolla,” he answers, “We just fucking with the Prospect.”

I show him my hands as I step closer to him, “Doesn’t matter why. Let me check your face. Make sure nothing’s broken.” I hold his face in my hands, my thumb moves lightly down the bridge of his nose, then over his orbital bone, and along his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine. I’d suggest you go around back to the bathroom to wash up. Don’t want your Prez to find out you lost a fight to a Prospect.”

I give him a wink then follow Angel, EZ, Coco, and Riz back inside. “Is the smoke pad always that exciting?” I ask as I catch up with them.

“All the time,” Riz says with a smile, “why I haven’t quit yet.” I take a seat on the arm of the oversized leather couch beside Bishop, his hand moves to possessively rest on my thigh.

“You ok, querida?” he reaches up wiping blood from my face with his thumb.

“It’s not mine,” I take the napkin offered, “One of the Tempe guys had an accident outside. I just checked him out.”

“The Vatos are here,” Hank says as he enters the room. We all stand, Bishop directing me protectively behind him. The tension in the air was palpable. I could see Bishop’s jaw tighten when Chibs spoke softly to them. My own heart raced but I stood firm. Weakness wouldn’t be acceptable in this room full of Alpha males.

We file back into the conference room. This time Chibs took a seat with Montez at the head, the VM on one side then the Mayans on the other. The room filled so fully men were lining the walls. The VM leader glared at me as I made my way to the foot of the table. Dolla from Tempe sporting the beginnings of a black eye slides the chair out for me.

“I can work with Santo Padre to schedule with the Irish,” I started.

“VM unloads and stores,” Chibs continues, “then transports to the East Cali border. We think 30% is fair to cut them in for.”

“Agreed,” Bishop responds.

“I won’t take orders from a woman,” El Palo barks.

“One word from this woman,” I narrow my eyes in his direction, “and this whole bloody deal is done. The Irish Kings would be more than happy to find another dealer to handle their business. And you can go back to scamming lost sheep.”

“Calm down,” Chibs says, “the both o’ ya. Ms. O’Shay is here at the request of the Irish. And will be here as long as they wish it.” I lean back in my seat listening as they discuss numbers and cuts. None of this concerned me. Not until they started talking about the Mayans paying restitutions.

“You lost men because you came in our fucking backyard,” Bishop said firmly. “What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?” My heart began to race again.

“The Mayans killed nine of my fucking men,” El Palo said.

“You were wrong,” Taza shouted.

“Can we just say that you both were fucking wrong?” Chibs states and looks over to the Mayan side of the table, “You’ve got to put something on this table so we can get the fuck outta here.”

After whispering with Canche and Oso, Bishop offers, “We’ll match SAMCRO’s 5%.”

“Fuck that!” El Palo yells, “20%!”

“Fuck you!” Bishop shouts. The men on both sides of the table stand up squaring off. Happy pulls his piece from his kutte.

“Jesus Christ! Fuck!” Chibs shouts still sitting in his chair at the head of the table. “You fucking Mexicans you make us Scotts look sensible. Gentleman get your fucking dicks off the table this is a fair deal.” Bishop and the Kings nod and everyone takes their seats again.

“I’m glad we can all come to a peaceful understanding,” I state. “Slainte!” I down my glass and the rest of the Mayans and Vatos join in reluctant acceptance. I hang back as the men file out. The VM exits the front and SAMCRO out the back. The men say their goodbyes.

Bishop laces his fingers with mine as we head back inside. “It’s a good thing what you did in there, hermosa.” He presses his lips to my temple.

“It wasn’t so hard,” I gave his hand a squeeze with a smile. “I’m used to handling angry Mexicans.”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he smirks, placing my hand on his member through his jeans, “I got plenty for you to handle.”

“I know you do,” I give him a kiss and a gentle squeeze. We sit and have a few more drinks. Music plays over the speakers. The playfulness of the evening was cut short but the sound of an explosion outside.

“Stay there,” Bishop jumps to his feet following the crew outside. I hung back, staying just inside the door a bike was on fire. I jump at the sound of machine gunfire. It seemed to come from all directions.

“Taz, Nova get down,” Riz shouts. I saw El Palo’s eyes clearly, he was focused on his assault. Riz took the shot and fell back on top of me. I never knew the man could be so heavy. I kept down. I heard Bishop’s voice yelling, his gun firing. All of their gun’s firing.

I shifted out from under Riz when the gunfire stopped. “Riz,” I place my fingers on his neck finding a weak pulse. Labored breathing. My hands moved down his chest and applied pressure to the wound. “Call an ambulance!”

I couldn’t think anymore, I just held pressure on his wound.

“Nova,” Creeper’s voice, “you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not my blood,” I muttered. Not sure if the shock or the adrenaline wore off but I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Taza’s voice soothed me, “Get a fucking ambulance now!” I could feel the color leave my face as I fell back. My hands were covered with blood. A mixture of Riz’s and my own. The room spun and went dark as I heard the approaching sirens.

#mayans mc #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa smut #bishop x oc #bishop losa #sons of anarchy

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