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flightlessangelwings · 7 months

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Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism

Bishop Losa x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.

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

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

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

“Bish…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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fanficimagery · 2 years

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Angel’s Reina

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not until Ima's involved."

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

"And what's that, querida?"

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

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

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

"De nada."

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

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

"Over the moon."

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

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

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

"No!"

"Uh, what case, 'mano?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Love you too, sis."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh I am," she muses.

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

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

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

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

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

You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hot guys? What hot guys?"

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

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

"Will do."

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

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

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

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

"Holy shit! YN?"

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

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

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

"Thank you, Obispo."

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

"Yeah. Of course."

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

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

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

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

"Shut it," you mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What changed?" Bishop wonders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.

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

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

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

"You're on, vato."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

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

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

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

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

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

"What's her deal?"

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

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

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

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

"Mhm," you hum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go? Go where?"

"You need sleep."

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

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

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

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

"Is that right?" Angel gulps.

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

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

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

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

Happy Halloween indeed.

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

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obsessedasusual · 5 months

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Lonely No More - Eight

Bishop Losa x OC Series

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

Warnings: swearing, feels, everything MC related really

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

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

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

No texting, no calling, no notes.

Radio silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which was who?”

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

“So he’s a local?”

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

“I’m sure they’d be okay with it-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Had she tried to call him?

No.

Had he tried to call her?

Also no.

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks,

James.

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

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

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

Same with Ez.

Came a second text. Amalia typed out her reply.

Any particular reason?

Dunno. Come to the club later.

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

Not in much of a party mood.

Chill. I meant to talk to your little brother.

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

Fine. Be there after work.

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

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

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

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

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

She did just that.

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure you’re good, EZ?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

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

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

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

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

“Yup.”

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

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

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

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

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

Liar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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drabbles-mc · 2 months

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Butterflies

Bishop Losa x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluffy feels

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: butterflies

Word Count: 100

A/N: just a quick little drabble today. written while at work waiting for people to go home lmao

Bishop had never been a fan of the term “butterflies” when it came to describing how excitement made someone feel. There had been plenty of moments when he had felt happy, jittery even, but even reflecting back on some of his most exciting moments, he wasn’t sure that “fluttery” was ever right for him.

Then he saw how you looked standing at the other end of the aisle on your wedding day and everything that he thought he knew went clean out the window. He never believed in the notion of stomach butterflies until he felt an eruption of them.

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

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dallianceangel · 5 days

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𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐔𝐩 🐱👅💦

Hope you enjoy reading 😜

🫦 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫦

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

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

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

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

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mysoulisasunflower · 1 year

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"The Reaper Have Been Landed"

Mayans MC | 1.1 "Perro/Oc"

#les packer #bishop losa #obispo losa #robert patrick #michael irby #mayans mc #mayans fx #sons of anarchy #mayans #gif #my post

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sonhosquebrados · 9 months

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He didn't deserve the ending he got! 💔

#bishop losa #obispo losa #michael irby #mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans fx #mayans season 5

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

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

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

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

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

Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.

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

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

Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

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

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adarafaelbarba · 6 months

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Everything that made you great only made you bad

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

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

Tagging:

@crazy4chickennuggets @bullet-prooflove @beccabarba

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

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fanficimagery · 2 years

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Roger, Roger

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We're not fuckin' dating!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Angel laughs at how worked up his brother is.

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

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

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

"Female?" Bishop wonders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Johnny!"

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

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

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

"Let me guess, el presidente said no?"

"Bish said no," he chuckles.

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

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

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

"Oohh. Tempting."

"Free drinks all night."

"Even more tempting."

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

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

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

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

"Puta."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please don't bang my brothers."

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

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

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

"Sure thing, tia."

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you gonna do? Stab me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But this bitch-"

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

"But you're not even-"

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

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

"Yeah, yeah. Show's over."

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

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

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

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

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

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obsessedasusual · 3 months

Text

Lonely No More - Nine

Bishop Losa x OC Series

Warnings: swearing, feels, everything MC related really

Note: it's okay I hate me as well :)))

The knock at the door came as Amalia was mid-sip of her second glass of red wine.

After a day of having a door slammed in her face by her younger brother and awkward prolonged eye contact from the man she couldn’t seem to get out of her head, a glass or two of red was more than welcomed.

She sighed quietly and hoped whoever it was would soon leave.

It wasn’t late, Amalia had only just finished cleaning up after dinner and had begun to settle on the sofa with reruns of ‘Say Yes to the Dress’, keen to erase the events from the past few days.

When the second knock came she threw her head back in frustration before pulling herself to stand and answer the door.

Seeing Bishop standing on her front step should have been expected, he was really the only person she knew in this town that bothered to knock, but it still caught her off guard.

He stared at her for a beat before breaking the silence, “Hey.”

He was still dressed in his kutte, having only just left the club. When Amalia peered over his shoulder to the driveway she noted the lack of motorbike, he must have walked from his place which would explain the silent arrival.

She looked back to him, replying with a soft, “Hi.”

Bishop looked at his feet and cleared his throat before speaking again, “Can I come in?”

“Uh… yeah sure.” She stepped back and opened the door further for him, allowing him into her home.

This wasn’t how she saw her night going. She had just finished compartmentalising everything going on in her life right now and had come to the conclusion that she and Bishop were just an equally lonely pair, whos paths crossed unexpectedly for a short time and they were going to revert back to how their relationship was a couple of months prior - essentially nonexistent. And she was totally okay with that. Absolutely. Cool as a cucumber.

Lie.

She wasn’t sure when she’d grown so fond of the older man, and it hurt to think that he didn’t feel the same.

Amalia followed to where Bishop stood awkwardly near the dining table, eyes anywhere but her.

“Could I uh, do you want a drink?” She offered helplessly. He shook his head, eyes on the carpet beneath him.

“No, I uh… I came to apologise,” he looked at her then, seeing how his words caught the Reyes sister off guard, “Been busy with the club and ah, time got away from me.”

Amalia nodded silently, not knowing what to say. He was the one turning up on her doorstep, he could do the talking. Admittedly it was a childish response.

Bishop continued at the silence, “I’m sorry for not reaching out sooner.”

“It’s okay.” Amalia mumbled. It’s not like she reached out either.

The President shook his head at her response, “Nah, it’s not, querida. I know the other night when I left… I should’ve reached out.”

It was clear that this conversation was making him uncomfortable, Amalia felt the exact same. This was uncharted territory for them. Hell - just over a month ago they were merely friendly acquaintances. It was crazy, how their friendship grew so fast. And it was about to derail even faster by the sound of this conversation.

She sighed and looked around the room, “Bishop look. It’s okay, I get it.” He looked at her quizzingly as she continued, “It was just a… a thing that happened. While we were messing around. I understand that’s all it was.”

Bishop studied her for a moment, remaining silent as he waited for her to continue speaking.

The red wine had started to infiltrate her system by now, and Amalia could feel herself loosening up and letting words fall more freely.

“I mean, look at us!” she gestured between them with a weak smile, “You’re President of an outlaw MC and I’m the communications lead for a building company. We don’t exactly have a lot in common.”

Everything Amalia was saying was four days worth of pent up emotion. Did she mean all of it? No. But history had taught her that it was easier to be the rejector than the rejectee, “And then, there’s the whole thing with my brothers. Could you imagine if they found out? What a mess that would be.”

If Bishop disagreed he did a good job at hiding it, choosing to remain silent as Amalia rambled away.

She finally reigned it in, stopping herself from digging a deeper hole, “No hard feelings, Bish. Promise.”

After a moment of silence he repeated, “No hard feelings, querida,” eyes locked on hers, “I’ll uh - I’ll leave you to your night.”

Amalia nodded, “Okay.”

He made his way back to the front door and stared at her for a moment longer, “Okay.” He repeated, giving her a small smile and leaving her house.

Well that wasn’t awkward at all.

—

Bishop sulked the second her front door closed behind him.

We don’t exactly have a lot in common.

Did that really matter? Was having a lot in common with a person the make or break of a relationship?

He turned back toward her house when he reached the letterbox, catching her shadow moving across the living room.

On each of the past few days Bishop had found himself staring intently at his phone, either waiting for it to alert him of a new message or in the hope he’d finally rip the Band-Aid off and call the subject of his infatuation.

He should’ve reached out. He regretted that now more than ever.

But this was good, he supposed. It’s better he know how she feels before he attempted to pursue anything further with her.

Sighing, he turned and started the short walk home.

#bishop losa #mayans mc #obispo losa #bishop losa imagine #bring back bishop #lonely no more #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa fic

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drabbles-mc · 9 months

Text

Unannounced

Bishop Losa x OFC

Warnings: 18+, light angst

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: i don't know what this is. i cannot articulate how much i don't know what it is lmao. i had like??? 700 words of this written a long long time ago. reopened the doc. reread it. had no idea what i wanted to do with it so i just stream-of-consciousness'd the rest of it and here we are. Bishop and his long-lost high school sweetheart.

Mayans Taglist: @withmyteeth @just1bri @kelpies-shed @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @fanfic-n-tabulous @littlekittymeow @buckybarneshairpullingkink @mijagif @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @proceduralpassion @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @nessamc @crowfootwrites @artemiseamoon @justazzi @danzer8705 @darqchilddaydreamz @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

When Bishop rolled into his driveway to see a car already parked there, he instantly felt himself getting defensive. With everything that had been going on with the club, unexpected visitors didn’t seem to spell out anything but bad news. He felt each muscle throughout his body start to tighten as he cut the engine on his bike and dropped the kickstand.

The car wasn’t one that he recognized. It had California plates, but there was nothing really all that notable about it. No bumper stickers, no dents or scratches. Just slightly dusty black paint on the SUV. He didn’t see the silhouette of anyone sitting inside it, or standing on either side. If the car was simply dropped off in his driveway that only made the entire scene more suspicious.

He left his helmet on the seat of his bike before walking up towards his house. He gripped the gun tightly by his side, but made sure to keep it lowered. His neighbors were accepting enough, but he didn’t want to go waving his gun around and ruin that if this all turned out to be nothing.

It wasn’t until he was almost in front of the car that he saw who had arrived in it. He froze in his tracks, painfully aware of how unnecessary his gun was but feeling like he was unable to try and move to put it back into its holster.

She looked up from the phone that was in her hand. Long, loose waves of brown hair fell in front of her shoulder as she turned her head to look at him. The small smile that seemed to almost always be present on her face stretched wider when she took in the sight of Bishop in front of her.

“Bispo,” she said, excitement palpable in her voice as she shoved her phone into the pocket of her jeans. In two long strides she closed the distance between them, pulling him into a hug without hesitation.

Bishop desperately wanted to hug her back, but he felt like his arms were glued to his side. His locked muscles were partially from the shock of the entire situation, but it was also because it felt so far beyond wrong to try and hug her back when he had a gun clutched in his hand.

“Mia,” he finally forced out her name in turn.

If she was off-put by the fact that he didn’t return her embrace, she didn’t show it. Stepping back, she took another long look at him. It was impossible to miss the way that he finally got his hands cooperating enough to hurriedly tuck his gun away, but she didn’t comment on it. So much time had passed since they’d last seen each other. There were so many other things to try to process and focus on. They were practically children the last time that they stood in front of each other the way that they were now.

“Look at you,” she said with a soft laugh. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and traced her fingers along the stubble that was starting to come in on his cheeks—five o’clock shadow that was getting just a little too unruly to still carry the name. He’d hardly been able to grow facial hair the last time she’d seen him, and now there were flecks of gray throughout. She wondered how so much time had managed to pass between them.

From the warmth of her fingertips to the slight scratch of her nails as she pulled her hand away, Bishop found himself nearly leaning into the sensation, not wanting it to disappear so soon. He managed to catch himself, clearing his throat as he started to study her almost as closely as she’d studied him.

“Look at you,” he finally said back with a chuckle.

Looking at her was all Bishop could manage to do. Whatever she had gotten up to in the meantime, it treated her well. The years were easier on her than they had been on him. She had the laugh and smile lines of someone who had experienced plenty of joy in his absence.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this.” Her smile was warm, but Bishop could see that she wasn’t too sorry. He wasn’t either.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Looking over his shoulder, she glanced back at the bike parked at the bottom of the driveway. Last time that she saw Bishop, Marcus had been the only one out of the two of them who had a kutte. Hell, he’d been the only one out of the two of them who had a motorcycle. She saw the Presidente patch stitched onto Bishop’s chest and it briefly crossed her mind that she couldn’t possibly fathom what he’d been up to in the decades since they last saw each other.

She nodded towards the motorcycle. “Marcus was actually the one who went me your way.”

Bishop raised his eyebrows slightly, surprised not just that Marcus had told her where to find him, but also that his cousin hadn’t reached out to give him a heads-up. “Oh yea?”

“Was surprised to hear that you both left Oakland,” she remarked.

“Mm,” Bishop hummed in thought, stalling as he tried to figure out how to respond to that. “I don’t think either of us really planned on it.” His expression shifted, confusion going across his face for a moment before he smiled again. “You got out before either of us did anyway.”

“I didn’t get out, Bispo,” she laughed with a shake of her head. “I went to school.”

“Same thing,” he joked.

She rolled her eyes but there was still a smile on her face. “Yea, because getting shipped overseas wasn’t your attempt at getting out at all.”

He shook his head but he didn’t try to argue with her. He’d forgotten a lot over the years, but standing there in his driveway looking at her, for a moment he was nineteen all over again. Some of the details were muddy still, but there was plenty that he remembered from back then. Like the way that both of them were trying to get out of Oakland for a bit, but they were getting out and going in complete opposite directions.

“What had you calling Marcus, anyway?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Wasn’t calling Marcus.” She saw his brows knit together and she laughed. “Izzy and I are still friends, you know.”

“Oh yea?” he asked, smiling at the thought of that.

“Yea. Your name came up in one of our last conversations.”

“Doesn’t usually?” he said with a smirk.

Mia shook her head but she still laughed. “Funny, hm? That we have other things to talk about besides you after all these years?”

Bishop chuckled. “That doesn’t seem right.” They both laughed for a moment before he asked, “How’d it come up this time?”

Her smile faltered for the first time since she’d seen him. Bishop could feel the weight dropping onto his chest. “She mentioned that she was worried about you.”

He scoffed, trying not to let himself get too defensive. Not with her. “That’s all it took to get you down here after all this time?”

Mia laughed, but there was a touch of sadness to it. “Well,” she reached out and rested her palm against his chest, fingertips dragging over the small patches stitched into his kutte, “she said that she was worried about me too. Thought it might be helpful for the both of us.”

Worry creased his brows. “What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nada. Don’t worry about it.”

Bishop chuckled. A lot of things had changed over the years. Some things clearly hadn’t. “Mentirosa,” he said, a small smile on his face as he did.

“No,” she said, flashing a quick grin as she pointed at him. “It’s just not what we’re talking about right now.”

“Right,” he dragged the word out, smiling despite himself.

Mia watched him as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his kutte. He flipped it open, pulling one out and placing it between his lips. She was still smiling as she shook her head at him.

The click of his lighter preceded her saying, “Bad habit.”

He laughed and puffed out a cloud of smoke in the process. “It’s the best of my bad habits these days, sweetheart.” He tilted the pack towards her, eyebrows raised to solidify the offer.

There was a long moment of silence between them as Mia looked back and forth between Bishop and the pack of cigarettes in his hand. Letting out a deep sigh, she reached and pulled one out. Bishop managed a laugh around the cigarette between his lips as she leaned in and allowed him to light it for her.

“Still a bad influence, Bispo,” she joked.

“Still don’t have to work that hard at it either,” he fired right back with a smile.

She leaned back against her car again, crossing one leg in front of the other as she did. Her cigarette was perched so delicately between her two fingers. If Bishop didn’t know any better he’d say that she hadn’t given it up at all. Small tendrils of smoke swirled from between her lips as she looked at him, each of them waiting for the other to say something more.

As far as Bishop was concerned, he would’ve been perfectly happy to just stand there in the driveway and look at her. Too many years had gone by without him being able to do that. He should’ve called. He knew that he should’ve called. When he got back after his first enlistment was up and found out that she was still long gone, he never made any effort to reach out. Back then, when he was young and stupid, it’d partially been an angry thing. If she was so content to just leave then why would he try and chase her down? Even back then he knew that that wasn’t a fair assessment. Looking back on it now, he still knew it wasn’t fair, but he also thought that maybe it was for the best given how everything had played out. Or maybe not. Maybe if she had been there when he got back everything would’ve been different.

He watched her tap the ashes from the end of her cigarette. His eyes followed them all the way down as they fell to the ground. He took his time bringing his gaze back up to her face, trying to make a note of everything about her. He wondered how long she was going to stay, how long it was going to be before he saw her again after she left.

“You’re still in Oakland, then?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She nodded, pulling a drag off her cigarette. “I am.”

“Doing everything you ever wanted?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Are any of us?” She exhaled a stream of smoke. “It’s good.”

“Yea?” he asked, clearly not believing her.

She pried her eyes up from his driveway until she was level with his gaze. “It is, it is. Most of the time, anyway.” Even though she was looking at Bishop, she was absent-mindedly running her thumb along the ring finger of her left hand. “It’s been a rough few months, Obispo.”

His eyes flicked down to her hand for a moment. She wasn’t wearing a ring, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him that she used to be. He wasn’t brave enough to ask what happened. A bit selfish, too, because he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t know how to respond no matter what her answer was.

“Got you down here, though,” he finally said.

Her smile was small, but genuine nonetheless “It did.”

“Come on.” He nodded towards the front door of the house as he dropped his cigarette on the ground. “I’ll make coffee or something.”

She nodded, snubbing what little was left of her cigarette out with the tip of her boot. She didn’t say anything, but she stepped away from her car with a smile as she followed Bishop up to his front door. He didn’t know why he felt almost jittery as he slipped the key into the lock. Pushing the door open, he motioned for her to step in first, which she did with a quiet laugh and a nod in thanks.

“If Marcus told me I was gonna have company,” he said with a chuckle, “I would’ve cleaned or something.”

Mia laughed, shaking her head as she watched him close and lock the door behind him. “Now who’s lying, hm?”

His shoulders shook as he tried to bite back his laughter. She saw the way his lips twitched as he attempted not to smile at her comment, knowing that she was right. He gestured towards the kitchen. “Coffee?”

She nodded. “Please.” She watched him as he went over and started to fill the pot with water. She perched herself on the edge of the small table that was set up at the edge of his kitchen. “Bispo?”

His eyes were focused on what he was doing, but he turned his head just enough to let her know that he heard her. “Mhm?”

“I know it’s been a while,” her voice had a precarious balance between humor and heaviness, “but I can promise you’re not going to need the gun with me.”

He let out a long exhale through his nose at her words, shoulders sagging as he registered them all one after the other. Shutting off the sink, he turned the rest of the way so that he could look at her. She looked as sweet as she ever had. He was hoping that she hadn’t noticed. Or if she’d noticed, that she wouldn’t say anything. He should’ve known better.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright. I know…” her voice trailed off for a moment. “Well, maybe I don’t know. But,” she shrugged, “I can only imagine.”

He started the pot of coffee, disappearing out of the kitchen for a moment. Mia listened and she could hear a faint clattering sound. Her body relaxed. When he came back to the kitchen, there was still a bit of an apologetic look on his face.

“That what this is all about, then?” he asked her as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet for each of them.

“There’s no,” she gestured vaguely with her hands for a moment as she tried to come up with the right words, “all this.” She searched his face for answers that she wasn’t finding. “I’m sorry if it’s too much. Maybe I should’ve called. But I thought if I did, you would—”

“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, his voice heavy but sincere. “I’m sorry. I’m,” he nodded, looking at the floor for a moment before he looked back up at her again, “glad you’re here. I just…”

“Wish it was a little different?” she offered.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “Somethin’ like that.”

“I understand that,” she told him with a nod. “But this is what we have, hm?”

He nodded slowly. “It is.”

“Feel like catching me up on a few things?” she asked, a warm smile creeping back onto her face.

It got Bishop to crack a small grin in return. “Maybe a couple.”

She smiled a little wider at that, arms folding comfortably across her chest as the coffee pot beeped. “Good.”

#mayans mc fanfic #mayansmc #mayans mc #mayans fx #bishop losa #bishop losa x oc #obispo losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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narcolini · 1 year

Text

making exceptions

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

warnings for descriptions of kidnap, reader in shock

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

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas

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

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

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

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

You nod, stepping back to let him do it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, looking past him still.

He says your name once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I don’t want you to…’ You fade off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Can I come in?’ he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I wish I could—’

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

‘Sorry.’

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

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

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

‘Tonight?’ He nods. ‘Yeah.’

You hesitate. ‘And after that?’

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

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

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

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

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

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garbinge · 1 year

Text

Break-In

Bishop Losa x OC Manny Reyes

Day 27 these April Prompts: “This used to belong to my mom”

Summary: After a break-in at her apartment, the middle Reyes calls her brothers just to be sent to voicemail, leaving her to rely on her least favorite Mayan, Bishop Losa.

A/N: My girl Manny <3 This is the start of a larger story for my girl that will probably take place over the course of one shots that can be read individually but flow a lot better if read all together. You can read my other Manny fic for some background or just more Manny content <3

Family Night

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst. Mentions of guns, violence, break ins.

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @narcolini @danzer8705

Manny sat completely still in the closet of her bedroom, her hand over her mouth to muffle any uncontrollable sounds of her breathing as a couple tears fell from her eyes. There was still shuffling and scuffling happening beyond the closet doors, each sound causing her to shake. Normally, Manny would have been quick to fight off intruders in her home. She wasn’t one to falter or scared of a fight, but things changed when she heard the gunshot.

She wasn’t sure what they shot, who they shot. But it spooked her. Her phone was on her nightstand, just feet from her, almost taunting her. Since she couldn’t call for help, she sat hidden in the closet, waiting for the intruders to leave.

It was silent for about 5 minutes but she let 5 more go by before emerging from the closet. She moved to grab the weapon from her drawer, realizing immediately she hadn’t grabbed the gun she had strictly for this reason. With one more deep breath, her shaking stopped, her crying stopped, and she was stealth, slow, and calculated in her moves as she cleared her apartment.

After realizing she was alone, she rushed back into her room and grabbed her phone. First she called Angel, strictly because he was the first one in her phone, she hung up after the 4th ring, not letting the voicemail get a chance to speak. Her next dial was EZ, this time she let the rings bring her to the voicemail in hopes that he’d answer but there was no luck. She wasn’t going to leave a message, she wasn’t naive. She tried both of them one more time before giving up and moving onto someone else. Coco.

“What’s up?” His voice was so relaxed it made Manny mad.

“Are you with my brothers?” Manny’s voice was on edge.

“Nah, they’re up north on a run.” Coco inhaled a cigarette as he spoke.

“Fuck!” Manny yelled out.

She couldn’t see him but Coco was pushing off the wall he was leaning on as the worry filled his body.

“What the fuck is it?” He asked holding the phone tighter to his ear like that was going to get him answers sooner.

“Some motherfuckers just broke into my apartment and trashed it,” she was looking around now, seeing that everything had been torn apart, her couch cushions were tossed on the other side of her room, drawers were open, it was a wreck. “I don’t know who but I heard a gunshot.” She immediately moved to the front window of her apartment and looked outside. Her mind was going back and forth, she was hoping there wasn’t any of her neighbors bleeding out but another part of her needed to know what the fuck they shot at.

“Fuck! You good?” Coco asked as he tried to think through what to do.

“I’m fine, I just– I don’t really keep company that would do this, you know? It’s gotta be a club hit. Or-or something Angel and EZ got into I don’t know.” Manny rambled. “Can you just– can you come here? Not really feelin’ like being alone.”

“I’m over the border, Manny.” Coco said with sympathy behind his statement. “Let me call one of the guys that’s at the clubhouse.”

Manny wasn’t in the space to argue or make calls so she just agreed. With her brothers not answering, she had to trust Coco and his decisions.

____

There was a knock at the door, and Manny heard it creep open. With her gun loaded and next to her, she creeped up and pointed it at the person who entered.

“They shot your door open.” Bishop said as he ran his hand threw his beard before turning towards Manny. He stepped back and put his hand up when he saw Manny was extending out a gun right at him. “It’s just me, Manny.”

Those words didn’t really offer a lot of comfort to the girl. Bishop wasn’t exactly Manny’s favorite Mayan, let alone favorite person. Bishop and Manny had a very complicated history. Manny blamed a lot of the shit that went on with Angel and EZ on Bishop. Now, she wasn’t naive, she knew that Angel and EZ were in charge of their own decisions, but she also knew that as club president, they’d follow Bishop blindly into anything. And they did. Manny remembers when Angel joined the club, that was the start of Bishop and Manny’s tense relationship. Fighting in the front yard of the Reyes house when Bishop and a few other club members pulled up and pulled Angel away. She remembers when Bishop ordered EZ to go on a run and he ended up coming back with a gunshot wound. The names he called them, the way he acted around her, all extra salt to the wound. Every one of those instances and more were running through her brain mixed with the adrenaline from the break in, shooting Bishop seemed like a decent option. But Manny wasn’t psychotic.

She lowered the gun, a little relieved to know that the victim of the gunshot was her front door and not one of her neighbors.

“Coco called me. Filled me in.” Bishop's hands were still raised in innocence as he slowly walked towards the girl.

“Yea? He tell you my brothers didn’t answer cause they’re out on a run.” Another reason added to why Manny very much didn’t like Bishop.

There was more truth behind that, though. Manny’s last conversation with her brothers wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. But she wasn’t going to let Bishop know that if it meant she could blame him for something else.

Bishop ignored the comment and Manny put the gun on the coffee table, probably one of the only pieces of furniture still upright in the apartment.

“You clock anything? Tattoos? They say anything?” Bishop was trying to figure out who did this so he could figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

“While I was hiding in my closet, scared for my life?” The sarcasm dripped off her voice. “No. Sorry.”

“Alright.” Bishop nodded and looked around trying to figure out what to do.

“There were probably like 5 of them. They were calculated but they didn’t hit the bedroom, just here. With everything tossed around they were probably looking for something.”

“You hidin’ anything?” Bishop asked and it caused a little more tension to grow between them.

She was. Her brothers gave her something a week ago. It was a flashdrive. She didn’t ask what was on it and in hindsight she wished she did. But she also knew that whatever it was, the club wouldn’t have known about it especially if Bishop was asking this. Despite her being mad at her brothers, she wasn’t going to rat them out.

“Yea, a million bucks under my mattress.” Her face turned in a smile that was fully mocking him now.

“I’m here to help.” Bishop was now trying to work with the girl.

“You’re doin’ an amazing job, prez.” Manny wasn’t letting down.

Bishop stood there, if this was one of the guys they’d be put in their place way before this, but this was a line he hadn’t towed often, and tried to avoid in most cases.

“I’m gonna take a shower, wash this fuckin’ disaster of a night off. If you leave, do some boyscout shit on the front door lock and send someone else to stand post please and thank you.” Manny didn’t want to deal with any of this, her anger over the whole situation, her brothers, and now Bishop being here put her over the edge.

________

As Manny came out from the bedroom, her hair being dried by a towel in her hand, she didn’t expect to see her apartment pretty much put back together let alone Bishop horizontal on the couch playing with his pocket knife. Open and close as he stared at the ceiling. The sound of her footsteps alerting him to sit up.

“I, uh, tried my best to clean up. I’m the only one still in Santo Padre, everyone else is either on the run up north or on the other side.” Bishop knew Manny was privy to certain things, whereabouts being one of them. “I’ll stay outside though, just was waiting to give you the heads up.” He stood up and was making his way to the door.

“You didn’t fix the lock.” Manny said her eyes following him to the door. Bishop was about to explain how it was impossible to fix but that it didn’t matter because he’d stand watch and have one of the guys fix it tomorrow but Manny cut him off. “You can stay on the couch.” Bishop’s head turned up at that until she finished her sentence. “I’d rather them shoot you first to warn me.”

He chuckled at that. “Fair enough. You think I could use your bathroom?”

“Through the room on the right.” Manny said, pointing as she made her way to the kitchen.

Looking at the couch, Manny realized she should get Bishop some blankets and a pillow. She might not have liked Bishop but she was grateful he was watching out for her tonight so she’d be a decent host at the minimum. She poured two glasses of water, placing one on the coffee table, next to the gun she had placed their originally, and then she took the second glass into her room to grab spare bedding.

She was shocked to see Bishop staring at her stamp collection. She cleared her throat which made him place the stamp book back on her dresser before turning to face her. Manny’s hand was extended out handing him the glass of water.

“Sorry, I–uh,” Bishop grabbed the glass of water and took a few steps away from the dresser. “I used to collect stamps with my kid. The album caught my eye.”

“I wasn’t coming to spy on you. Was grabbing you a blanket.” Manny turned to her closet.

Bishop stood awkwardly in the middle of Manny’s room, looking around at the pictures in the room, the things on her nightstand, the stuffed animals on the bed.

“Used to belong to my mom.” Manny said as she turned around and handed Bishop the blanket.

“Huh?” Bishop asked with a frown as he had the water in one hand and the folded blanket in the other.

“This,” Manny moved over to her dresser and picked up the stamp album, “used to belong to my mom. We collected them when I was a kid. Before she died.” She placed it in a new spot on the dresser standing up so it was more on display now.

Bishop nodded. “Me and my kid used to go to different flea markets, vintage stores, pawn shops, whatever the fuck, and pick them up. Before he died.” His last three words were spoken directly at her since they were repeating what she said.

Manny’s head snapped to Bishop’s. “I–” She started to say that she didn’t know, like that would excuse all of her behavior to the man but she stopped and just offered condolences. “I’m sorry about your kid. That’s rough.”

“So’s losing your mom, I know that was some gruesome shit, then with EZ going away,” Bishop tried to sympathize with her.

“Yea. It’s been rough. Doesn’t seem to let up.” What would have normally come out as sarcasm came out in a soft voice.

The two of them moved back into the living room, the front door was wide open, Bishop dropped the blanket and glass quickly and drew his gun, his other hand instinctively moving behind him to shove Manny behind him. Her hand reached forward, grabbing her gun from the coffee table and situated behind him, watching his six like she had learned how to do from her brothers. She still hated that her younger brother had taught her how to defend herself but in this moment she was grateful.

“Stay here.” Bishop said as he cleared the apartment, Manny staying on alert at the front door as she closed it with the back of her foot.

Bishop reappeared now, gun back in his waistband.

“Must’ve been the breeze.” He pointed to the door before bending down and picking up the tossed blanket and glass and dropped them in a more proper place . “If you got some rope I’ll boy scout this shit closed.” A smile filled his face which caused Manny to push off the door and laugh.

“Didn’t realize you were so funny, Obispo.” She used his full name, something she never did as she went into her junk drawer in the kitchen and pulled out some string and tossed it to him.

She moved to the recliner she had bought strictly for her father for when he came to visit, bringing her legs up to her chest as she watched Bishop fidget with her door. After he tightened the last knot, his eye fell to a picture that was hanging on the wall. Manny clocked it immediately, she also saw how quick he was to look away. Like he had intruded on something personal.

“Ellie. My ex.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you uh” Bishop shook his head, embarrassed to have overstepped.

“Like girls?” Manny laughed as she saw Bishop squirm. “I’m shocked, the guys love to clown me on it. Especially Gilly.” She drank the rest of her water. “But, I don’t…you know…” Her head shook from side to side expecting Bishop to understand what she was insinuating and Bishop’s forehead wrinkled in a frown.

“I don’t just like girls.” She said expecting Bishop to understand but his face was still twisted in confusion. “I’m bisexual, Bishop.” Manny said it as straightforward as she could. His face let the confusion fall but he stood there awkwardly. “Jesus Christ, it was easier coming out to Felipe.” Manny laughed. “Take a fuckin’ breath, prez. You don’t gotta say anything.”

“No, sorry, just realized I don’t know much about you.” He sat down on the couch.

“I could say the same.” Manny looked directly into his eyes.

“Guess we don’t know much about each other.” Bishop leaned back against the couch.

“Guess we don’t.” Manny didn’t take her eyes off him.

Bishop stared right back at her. “Maybe we should learn more.”

“Yea, maybe we should.”

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