#obispo losa x oc

[garbinge]

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.”

#bishop losa #bishop losa mayans mc #bishop losa fic #Mayans MC #Mayans #Mayans MC fanfic #Maysns MC fanfiction #obispo losa #obispo losa x oc #bishop losa x oc #oc manny reyes #reyes sister #reyes sister oc #mayans mc oc

[obsessedasusual]

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

[drabbles-mc]

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

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 19

Here it is! The next chapter. I know I normally update on weekends, but I'm currently working those as well as week days. SO - I'll be updating as I can throughout the month of May.

Warnings: pushy drunk, alcohol, cussing, Mayan men... I think that's it. If I missed anything, please let me know.

Also - don't steal my shit.

A few minutes later, Bishop came back inside. “Hey, Poquito, come on out to the ring. The Reaper’s getting in the cage with one of the Oakland boys. I want you to see his style.”

Megan smiled. “Sure, Padrino.” Hank helped her to stand and steadied her. She offered him her hand to pull him up. 

Hank kissed it. “Go on with Bish, mi princessa. I’ll be right there. I need the bathroom.”

She smiled down at him and leaned to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay.” She turned to Bishop, who offered her his arm, and followed him out to the ring.

After Hank finished in the bathroom, he stopped at the bar to retrieve Megan a bottle of water. A girl he vaguely recognized from Vickie’s gave it to him with a flirty smile. “Here you go, Sweetheart. Need anything else?” she asked, batting over done lashes at him.

“Nope. I’m good.” He turned to head outside when she grabbed his hand to slip her number into it. 

“Call me if you change your mind, handsome.”

Hank shook his head and sat the piece of paper on the counter. “Mi Reina is outside. No thanks,” he said, flashing the crown tattoo on his wrist. He turned again and whistled for Rex so that he could go join Megan by the ring.

Venus was standing by the outside door and chuckled at him. “Remind me to educate your sweetbutts about a taken man before I go home, Sugar. They were apparently raised by wolves.”

Hank chuckled with her and offered to escort her outside wordlessly. “She’s lucky Megan is still so sensitive. Give it a month and mi princessa will be taking them apart for that shit.”

Venus smiled and accepted Hank’s arm. “You are a good man, Hank Loza.”

Hank shook his head. “Just one who knows he’s found his queen. Megan deserves that.”

They found Megan by the side of the cage where Tig was fighting. She was perched on the picnic bench with Chibs on one side and Bishop on the other. The men were analyzing the match out loud for her benefit. The Oakland Mayan was coming out the worse for wear, much to Bishop’s disappointment. 

Hank guided Venus to seat beside Chibs before climbing up to sit on the table with Megan between his feet. Without removing her eyes from the match, she settled easily against his warmth and kissed his wrist tattoo in greeting. Rex settled himself in front of her with his eyes on the crowd. 

“Watch his left, Poquito. He’s been holding back. Won’t be much longer…” Bishop muttered.

Chibs laughed. “I warned you Tiggy was a sure bet, Bishop. He was Samcro SAA for years.”

Megan smiled as well. “He is good - but he’s not invincible, Chibs. He loses power if the fight goes too long. And he doesn’ focus his power much…” 

Bishop grinned at her, surprised. “You’re right, Poquito. You’ve been listening more than I thought you had.” He patted her knee nearest him. “A years time and you’ll be an absolute goddess in the ring if you want to be.”

“Aye. The lass analyzes well,” Chibs agreed, sipping his whiskey. “Lemme know when her first fight is. I’d like ta see it.”

Megan laughed. “I don’t plan on competing much. I just like to spend time with my tío in the ring.”

Bishop smiled proudly again, but winced as the Oakland member hit the mat, out cold. He pulled out his wallet and handed Chibs fifty dollars. 

Chibs pocketed the money smugly as Venus shook her head. “Really, gentlemen?”

Both men shrugged as Tig made his way out of the ring and reclaimed his kutte and shirt. Then he beelined to Venus to claim a victory kiss. Finally he turned to the watching group. “Well, Little Bit - did you learn anything?” Tig asked jokingly.

Bishop chuckled with a wicked twinkle in his eye. “We learned that Poquito can analyze a fight pretty well.”

“Oh yeah?” Tig grinned cockily. “And what did she say?”

Marcus joined the group chuckling. “Probably the same thing we’ve told you a million times.”

“Pretty damn close,” Bishop said with a laugh.

Tig groaned. “Really, Little Bit? Gonna side against me here?”

Megan shrugged. “You don’t focus as much power into your hits as you could and that makes you tire quicker as the fight goes on because you’re having to hit more to do the same amount of damage. Too much expended energy.”

Hank chuckled and kissed the back of Megan’s head. “You tell ‘im, baby. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

They all laughed. 

“Who’s next in the ring?” Marcus asked, sipping his beer.

Bishop shrugged. “I say we throw a couple of prospects in the ring for entertainment.”

Megan giggled. “Are you TRYING to get the Reaper boy killed? EZ would send him to the moon if he hit him.”

Chibs grinned. “Tha’ lass has a point. I wish ya’ were in fightin’ form, Lass. I’d like ta see ya train.”

“She’ll be in the ring when she’s healed,” said Taza as he joined them. “And even then it’ll be for training only. She has a caballero for honor fights.”

Hank tugged her further into the shelter of his body and smiled. “Always.:

Megan grinned up at him. “Arthur and Guinevere.”

Tig rolled his eyes. “Alright. Enough sappy shit. I wanna see Tranq in action.”

Hank shook his head. “Not tonight if I can help it. I’m sticking close to the Birthday Girl.”

Chibs winked at Megan. “Aye. Gotta be in full working order when you get him home, right Lass?”

Megan smiled up at him in faux innocence. “Of course. If he’s too sore, who will carry me to bed?”

Taza snorted into his beer as Marcus grinned. 

When Megan shivered the first time, Hank suggested moving back inside. A couple of hang arounds were in the cage, but it was nothing to hold her interest anyway. They excused themselves and headed back inside with Megan tucked securely under Hank’s arm.

Inside they found Angel and Coco shooting a game of pool against Quinn and T.O. Gilly sat on the sidelines making smart remarks and sipping a beer. Hank settled Megan on the couch nearest the pool table with her back to a wall. Then he went to find her jacket and something warm for her to drink at the bar.

While he was gone, Gilly made his way over to sit on Megan’s couch. She could smell the beer on him and saw how unsteady he was as he walked. “Havin’ fun, Princessa?” he asked, sitting just a little closer than Megan liked.

Megan rubbed at Rex’s ears distractedly as she kept a careful eye on the Mayan. “Mostly,” she answered honestly.

“What’s not fun? I’ll make it go away. Let Gilly make it better,” he said grinning crookedly.

Megan shifted uncomfortably and Rex shifted to put himself between her and the bigger man. “Crowds make me nervous, that’s all.” She glanced to see Hank adding honey to the tea he’d had EZ brew her behind the bar. “I’m okay though.”

“Aww. Maybe a drink would help you loosen up? Just one…” Gilly suggested, slurring his words and leaning closer to her offering her his beer bottle.

“Hey! Gilly! Back off, man. Leave Ma alone. You can have the next game,” Coco offered, watching his best friend warily.

“I ain’t doin’ nothin’. We’re just talkin’, right Princessa?” Gilly said glaring at Coco.

Rex shifted again to stand firmly between Gilly and Megan. He wasn’t quite growling, but he was definitely alerted to his owner’s discomfort. Megan wrapped her good hand in the dog’s collar cautiously. “GIlly, you know I don’t drink. Hank’s getting me some tea. He’ll be back in a minute.” Megan glanced shakily toward the bar to see Hank talking to EZ about something. She shifted to put herself further away from the large man on the couch. 

“Ah - fuck Princessa…” Gilly dropped his head and sighed as he saw her moving away. “Am I being an ass?”

Coco swore loudly. “You’re about to be dog food, Estúpido.” He snatched Gilly’s beer away. “Sorry, Megan. He’s a damn pushy drunk.”

Megan nodded and swallowed shakily. “Go sober up, Gilly. You can apologize tomorrow.”

Angel appeared and hauled his friend up by the shirt collar. “Don’t worry, Princessa. He will. We’ll make sure of it.” He shoved him roughly towards the other side of the room and followed him, cussing in Spanish.

Megan relaxed and took a deep breath, releasing Rex’s collar as she did. She shook out her hand to ease the cramping from holding the dog’s collar so tight.

“You alright, Ma? Need me to get Hank? Or Taza?” Coco asked, squatting in front of her. “We won’t let him do that again. We got distracted by the game. I’m sorry.”

Megan smiled, but it trembled. “I’m good. Did you win?”

Coco laughed and flashed a couple of hundred dollar bills at her. “Don’t I always? Soon enough we’ll team up and take everyone down - charter by charter. You and me, Ma.”

That made Megan laugh and her shoulders relaxed. “We’ll see. I think Hank and I can take you on.”

“Take him on in what, mi amore?” Hank asked with a smile. He handed Megan the warm mug of tea. “Sorry. The Prospect had a question.”

“Thank you, Baby,” Megan said as she took a sip. “And I was saying that I think you and I could beat Coco and Angel pretty solidly at pool.”

Hank chuckled and sat next to her, sliding her jacket around her shoulders. “I think you already proved we can, Princessa. Pretty solidly at that. What’d Gilly do to piss off Angel? He’s got the prospect taking him home in the van.”

Coco snorted and cut off Megan as she started to answer. “His drunk ass was flirting with Megan. You know how he is. We’ll make sure he apologizes - properly - in the morning.” He patted Megan’s knee. “La Princessa handled him, but Angel figured we better remove his ass before Rex ate him. Be bad for the dog’s digestion.”

Hank stiffened and shot a look at Megan. “You alright, mi Princessa? Drunk or not - his ass can get in the cage…”

Megan handed Coco her tea for a second so that she could squeeze Hank’s fingers with her good hand. “I’m alright, Baby. Not my first pushy drunk. He’ll apologize tomorrow.” She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “If he doesn’t - THEN you can beat the shit out of him, okay?”

Hank searched her face for a moment and then relaxed. “If you say so, mi reina.”

Megan smiled and took her tea back from Coco with a mutter of thanks. Then she shifted to tuck her feet up on the couch and lean into Hank. As Coco and Hank talked possibilities for the next week’s yard schedules, Megan relaxed into Hank’s warmth. She felt her eyes getting heavier and glanced at Hank’s watch. It was nearing two in the morning. She sipped her tea and tried to cover a yawn. 

Coco caught it and chuckled. “I think the birthday princess is sleepy, Tranq.” 

Hank grinned down at her as she struggled to sit herself up some more so she wouldn’t fall asleep at her own party. “I think you’re right.” He pressed a kiss to Megan’s hair. “Would you mind letting Taza and her Padrinos know she’s ready to head out?”

Coco just smiled. “Sure, ‘Mano. Keep her awake until they can come say goodnight, huh?” He kissed his fingers and pressed them to Megan’s hair. “Happy Birthday, Ma.” He slipped off to find the men Megan would want to say goodnight to.

After goodnights were said and Megan and Venus had made lunch plans for the next day, Hank took her and Rex home for the night.

Rex had apparently seen dog doors before, because he used the one in the front door before they could get the door unlocked to go in. Megan snorted. “Well that makes it easier, I guess,” she said as Hank turned the key and Rex poked his head back out the door as if to ask what was taking them so long.

Once inside, Hank cuddled Megan against his chest. “I know you’re tired, mi reina, but you’ll sleep better if you get a shower tonight.”

Megan whined a little, but nodded. “I smell like the bar. I’ll have to sleep on wet hair though,” she whined burying her face in his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’ll help you brush it out so it won’t tangle so bad…”

Megan sighed. “I’m so tired. I might fall asleep in there.”

Hank led her to the bathroom in their ensuite. “I know. I wish I could let you, baby, but you’ll hate yourself tomorrow if you don’t shower. I’ve got to take one too.”

Megan froze a second. “... or we could share one,” she suggested, tentatively. “I could really use the help to wash my hair properly… and it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked…”

Hank chuckled, but he thought about it. “Are you sure, mi princessa?”

Megan nodded. “Please? Washing my hair with one hand is a nightmare. Papa helped me wash it in the sink last week, but…”

Hank kissed her forehead gently. “Of course I’ll help.”

He adjusted the water temperature before helping Megan undress and remove her sling and soft cast. Once she was in and under the spray, he undressed and joined her. 

He quickly discovered that washing Megan’s hair was a two handed job. She walked him through it carefully, but when he started to shampoo her scalp, she practically went limp in his arms. He panicked and stopped, only to be greeted with Megan’s whine.

“Don’t stop. Feels SO nice…” she fussed at him.

He chuckled and then resumed scrubbing gently. “Scared me, Princessa. Thought I hurt you or something.” 

She practically purred under his hands. “Oh… that is NICE…”

He grinned and turned her to face him so she could lean against his chest and he could still reach her. After a while, he guided her under the spray with his body as he rinsed her hair. The feel of her wet skin against him made him breathe deeply and remind his hormones firmly how tired Megan was and that she wasn’t healed enough for what they wanted. He carefully rinsed all the suds from her long strands and couldn’t resist placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Megan just smiled up at him with her eyes contentedly closed.

Then Megan showed him how to condition her long locks. He was shocked as hell when she showed him how much conditioner it took for her hair. Megan just giggled and kissed his tattooed shoulder. 

While the conditioner sat in her hair, he basically completed his entire shower routine. Then he helped her to rinse her hair again. After he was sure her hair was properly clean, he helped her to wash carefully, being gentle with the now nearly nonexistent bruises.

Once they were out and wrapped in fluffy towels, Hank helped Megan back into her cast and sling. Then she convinced him to join her for her night time skin care. That made her giggle too as he grumbled, but he followed along and even asked questions. At least he’d know how to do it if she was ever too tired.

By the time they were done, Taza was home. He found them curled together on the couch in the living room in their pajamas with Megan barely awake and Hank gently brushing her hair to help it dry faster. “You okay, Chica?” Taza asked with a grin,

“Mmhmm,” she said, cracking her eyes open to look at him. “Tired.”

“I can tell. You did one hell of a fine job tonight, Sweet Chica and I’m proud of you for it.” He eased himself down into his armchair. 

Megan perked up a little. “What do you mean, Papa? It was just a party.”

“First - Templo. Beautifully done. You were amazing and everyone saw it. Then - you controlled your panic at the party. It took us way too long to realize you were anxious because you had it under control. And Chibs - I think he’d adopt you on the spot if we let him.” He chuckled. “He couldn’t stop talking to Bishop about how lucky we are to have a mind like yours on our side. Those knives he gave you - those are his specialty from when he was a True IRA enforcer. As far as we know - no one else in the state carries them.”

Hank nodded. “They leave a very distinct cut, mi amore. So should you ever use them and a body is found - the federal database will lead cops right to Chibs’ door. And he gave them to you.”

Megan thought about that for a minute. “Why would he do that? He had them before we ever revealed the plan about the guns. So… why me?”

Taza sat back in his seat. “Chibs had a kid. A daughter ‘bout your age. He never got to see her grow up. An enemy ran him out of Ireland and raised his kid as his own. The girl was used to keep him in line for years.”

“Kerrianne? He’s mentioned her,” Megan said, settling into the couch more.

“Yeah.” Taza played with a ring on his hand. “She’s still there. Visits some, but he can’t get those years back. Kinda like us, I guess.”

“So, he sees me - in the same situation as his daughter - and decides to do for me what he hopes someone is doing for his Kerrianne,” Megan realized. “Am I anything like her?”

Hank smiled and kept brushing. “Not really, Princessa. I met her once when Happy was tattooing me. She’s a timid thing. Scared of her own shadow and wouldn’t be caught dead handling a gun or in a boxing ring after the way she was raised.”

Taza smiled. “I think he sees in you the strength he hopes his own girl gains some day. Plus - he just likes you, Chica. You’ve got sass.”

That made Megan laugh again. “And the tíos? How do they feel about tonight?”

“They’re so damn proud of you, Megan,” Taza assured her. “So damn proud to be your padrinos.”

Megan smiled sleepily. “Good. I like that.” Her eyes drifted closed again.

“Why don’t you go to bed, Sweetheart. You’re exhausted.” Taza suggested quietly.

Megan fought her way awake again. “Mm. Hair’s still wet.”

“Just damp now, mi reina. Here. Feel.” Hank draped her hair over her shoulder so she could feel the damp silk on the skin her tank top exposed.

“C’mere, Chica. I’ll braid it loose so it doesn’t annoy you. Then you can sleep. You’re exhausted.” Taza patted the arm of his chair.

Megan yawned hugely. “‘Kay, Papa.” She struggled to stand and finally managed it under Hank’s steadying hands. She perched on the chair arm and let Taza braid it for her. He loosely braided it down her back and then guided Megan into his lap for a cuddle. 

All night he’d been struggling not to baby her too much in front of the other clubs. They wanted her seen as a member in her own right. That wouldn’t work if Taza was constantly shielding her from every interaction. Hank could be the doting Ol’ Man - but her father and padrinos had to restrain themselves in public. She had to stand alone or it would be seen as extreme nepotism. 

It had been especially hard that night when she’d been uncomfortable in the crowd. Taza had wanted to shield her, to take her into Templo for a break or even into the yard office. But he had to trust that she could do it or she’d never trust herself.

Megan melted into his lap and let him rock her gently. She tucked herself against his chest like a small child and yawned. “Tell me a story, Papa?”

Taza kissed her hair. “What kind of story?”

She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Any kind.”

Hank grinned and snuck away to be sure the blankets were pulled back on the bed. As he heard, “In the days of your grandfather’s grandfather…” he knew Megan wouldn’t last ten minutes. 

When Taza deemed Megan deep enough asleep, he stood to carry her in to bed. Hank was sitting in the reading corner chair with a book when he appeared to lay her down. Taza settled her on her left side and gently pulled up the blankets before softly muttering a prayer for nice dreams in his mother’s native tongue.

He turned to see Hank putting his book aside to come join Megan in bed so she’d stay asleep. “Thank you, Hermano.”

“For what?” Hank asked quietly. 

“For shielding her when I can’t. For loving her through her pain… despite her pain.”

Hank smiled a little and shrugged. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Taz. I knew before we left the casino when we met her that she was mine. It just took me a few days to get my head out of my ass and do something about it.” 

Taza smoothed the blanket once more and smiled. “All the same. Thanks.”

Rex padded in to his dog bed in the bedroom from the one in the living room and flumped down tiredly, making both men chuckle. They exchanged good nights and Taza slipped off to his own shower and bed, closing the door behind him.

Hank had been asleep maybe an hour when he woke abruptly to a whimper from Megan. She wasn’t moving, but he could hear her muffled sobs and it broke his heart. He guided her over onto her back to find her still asleep through the tears. “Shh, mi amore. Shh. I’m here. Open those pretty eyes for me. C’mon Princessa.” He propped himself up beside her and stroked her hair and face gently. She didn’t seem afraid this time, he noted, just sad.

Rex had lifted his head, but hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. Maybe that meant it wasn’t too bad.

Hank pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and cupped the side of her neck in his massive hand. “Wake up, Baby.”

Megan’s eyes fluttered open and she reached for him slowly. “Hank?” she whispered.

“Yes, mi reina, I’m here.” He softly kissed her lips. “What happened?”

Megan laced the fingers of her good hand through his where it rested against her skin. “You were gone.”

“What do you mean, Baby? Gone where?”

“You left me. I was too much, so you left me.”

“Oh, Princessa,” Hank frowned. “Never.” He kissed her ring gently. “You will never be too much for me.” He gathered her as close to his chest as much as he could and rocked gently. “I swear to you, Megan, I’d marry you tomorrow if Mama wouldn’t murder us.”

Megan giggled a little.

Hank smiled and pressed kissed where he could reach. “You know she would, and no offense, mi reina, but my Mama scares me.”

Megan giggled again and nuzzled close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. “She scares me a little too.”

Hank laughed. “Good.” He felt her wet cheeks against his neck. “In all seriousness, Princessa, that’s all that’s keeping me from kidnapping you and hauling you to Vegas. Well - you and your papa because he’d shoot me for not taking him to walk you down the aisle.”

Megan giggled again and sniffed. “Rex could be the ring bearer.” She breathed his scent deeply and he felt her relax.

“That’s my girl.” He tilted her face to press a kiss to her lips again and look her in the eye. “I’m serious, Megan. Start planning your dream wedding because all I’m waiting on is the right ring to show up and Mama’s social conventions.” He stroked her hair gently, tucking a strand back into her braid. “I love you and you’ll never be ‘too much’ for me.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’, mi reina. That ring may be a promise ring, but in my mind, we’re already married.” He shifted to reveal the crown tattoo on his wrist. “That’s what this means, Baby, and tomorrow - we can make it even more obvious if you want. We’ll tattoo a ring on me…”

Megan pulled his wrist to her to press a kiss to the nearly new tattoo. “Okay,” she whispered, but he could see the doubt still lingering behind those big brown eyes. He promised himself, silently, to never prove her right.” 

Hank shifted himself to cuddle her close and reached for her book on her nightstand. Once she was securely tucked into him, he opened the book to her marked page and began to read.

Three chapters later, Megan’s eyes finally started to flutter closed. He kept reading until he was sure she was asleep before he put the book aside to rest with her as close as he could get her. 

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@xeniarocks

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@lyly00

@camelia35

@anaeve

#lost princessa #lost princessa sequel #mayans mc #taza x daughter!oc #che taza romero #megan(oc) x hank #hank loza #meet the reaper #mayans mc fanfic #bishop losa #marcus alvarez #obispo losa #chibs telford #tig trager #gilly lopez #gilly mayans #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #angel reyes #ez reyes mentioned #mayans #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfiction #ezekiel reyes

[minimel-fics]

I Want You (18+)

Bishop Losa X Reader

You aren’t his to have but he sure wants you, you keep your thoughts about him buried until you go to bed at night.

Inspiration for this one was brought on by the song You Right by Doja Cat featuring The Weeknd.

Warning: Infidelity, Sex, Flogging/ Spanking? Squirting.

18+ only, NO minors

Masterlist

x x x

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, you had been to a biker party before but that was in Stockton and this was Santo Padre- you were sure that it would be just as rowdy and just as you did when you went to your first ever party you couldn't help but also have the question about your safety nagging you in the back of your mind. You only brought a small purse with you, emptying it of everything except a twenty, your can of pepper spray and a couple pieces of gum- maybe you had trust issues around new people but it was better to be safe than sorry. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in weeks, since he transferred charters and you were quite annoyed with the fact that he wanted to spend your first night reunited on a date filled with the presence of many other criminal bikers.

When you entered the clubhouse you stood on your toes to try and find your date amongst the crowd, no one paid any attention to you as you pushed your way through when you finally spotted him engaged in a round of pool. He spotted you as you broke through the crowd, turning away from the game to throw his arm around you as his opponent took his shot.

“Hey baby,” You inwardly cringed as you remembered the last time you had seen him, how the pet name he had branded you with had so harshly left his tongue when you revealed that you were not going to abandon the life you had built yourself just to move south with him, “You mind going to grab me a beer?”

“Your turn, 8-ball.” You had to stop yourself from outwardly laughing as his opponent addressed him by his newly earned nickname, one that he wasn’t a fan of but everyone else would not let go; his insistence to play competitive pool but sinking that darn black ball prematurely every time. “You mind getting me a beer as well, sweetheart?”

One short glance at the mans kutte revealed his Presidential authority, the once over look he gave you so openly in front of your now distracted boyfriend made your stomach flip. “Two beers coming right up.”

There was no way that you would ignore a President’s request like that, your boyfriend had drilled it into your mind that anything the president wanted was his- this President seemed different in a sense compared to Ramos, less likely to use his authority as an excuse to try and bed his brothers women.

“So you’re 8-balls girl?” The guy behind the bar asked, genuinely curious as he had heard Santo Padre’s newest member brag about the hot girlfriend that he had waiting for him at home… before he would go off and try his hand with various hangarounds.

“I am.” You confirmed, “I’ll take two beers please and a tequila shot.”

You quickly downed the shot that was poured, sliding the small glass back across the counter and disappearing back toward the pool table with the chilled bottles.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” The President accepted his beer with a grateful smile before your boyfriend slung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a kiss to give you a proper greeting.

You could honestly only take so much pool, sitting in the chair you had commandeered from a nearby table as the night went on, you were stuck watching as your boyfriend lost game after game of pool- it seemed that many of the guys had caught on that playing 8-ball meant easy money because you had been there for hours.

You stood, your fingertip running across his back as you walked past him caught your boyfriends attention as he set up another round, “I’m going to get a drink, maybe step outside for some air.”

You ordered a tequila shot then another, needing the alcohol to get through the insufferably boring night. The music became muffled as you exited the clubhouse, sitting on one of the stairs to enjoy the fresh air. You dug through your purse, looking for a stray piece of bubblegum- you had been working hard on kicking your smoking habit and the sweet flavour of your favourite chewing gum had been the only helpful thing so far. A few minutes later you found yourself back inside the smokey bar- contemplating asking your boyfriend for his house key so you just could get some sleep instead of being forced to sit through more pool. A hand caught your wrist, quickly halting you as you immediately turned to see who was dumb enough to put hands on you, you came face to face with a table of bikers, all wearing Santo Padre patches and curious looks on their faces.

“My bad.” The biker released your wrist, sending you a small grin, “You really 8-balls girl?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest as you readied yourself to hear whatever explanation these guys had for asking you.

“Shit, we thought he was lying.” The bikers shared a laugh, earning your boyfriends attention from across the room. He sent you a curious nod, wondering why you had stopped at the table of his brothers instead of reclaiming your spot by the pool table. You blew a small bubble with your gum, popping it and continuing to chew before bidding the boys a farewell as you retreated back to your boyfriends side.

“With a woman like that I hope he knows how to use his dick better than he uses a pool cue.”

You weren’t meant to hear it but the words travelled behind you, bringing a smirk to your lips as it reached your ears. While you had heard the men’s chatter as they watched you walk away, you hadn’t noticed the careful stare of the charter’s President until you had reached your chair. You sent him a questioning glance as you caught his eyes on you, his attention then being dragged away as a woman passed him a beer and took her place on his lap.

You soon found yourself attending every club party that 8-ball invited you to, making the trip down from Stockton more frequently than you had been expecting yourself to- dishing out the money on plane tickets for the much shorter flight than the long, tiring drive. Not that you didn’t enjoy seeing 8-ball, but your trips had more motive then spending a weekend with your ever-so inattentive boyfriend. You had formed a rather harmless friendship with most of the Santo Padre charter, their jokes and goofy nature drawing you back each time to bring a brighter end to any dreary work week… the sneaky glances you’d been receiving from the charters President bringing you a new found sense of confidence, one that made you feel good but also guilty that you were basking in the attention of a man that wasn’t 8-ball.

You had the entire day off from work so you had decided to make an earlier trip to Santo Padre. 8-ball’s apartment contained minimal means of entertainment and in an effort to curb your boredom, you had decided to head to the clubhouse early to help the other ladies with setting up for the rowdy night ahead. The boys were still out on business and the women who were setting up had to run out to get supplies so you were left on your own, occupying yourself around the clubhouse with small mindless tasks. You hadn’t realized anyone was around so the heavy foot falls of riding boots against the wood floor caused you to fumble the new bottle of whiskey you were putting on the shelf, nearly dropping it to the floor but your reflexes were just too quick.

“I didn’t realize anyone was here.” Bishop’s rough voice caused you to glance over your shoulder, briefly making eye contact with the President before turning back to your task of restocking the bar.

“Neither did I.”

“You’re here early, sweetheart.”

You had to shrug off the effect that the term of endearment had on you, ever since the first night you had met Bishop the way it rolled off his tongue was intoxicating to you.

“I had the day off, figured I would come help with some of the prep for once… complete my old lady duties.” You fought the urge to glance over your shoulder to see how Bishop would react to your new title, your use of it purely to add fuel to the fire burning between you two.

“Old Lady?” Bishop leaned against the bar behind you, his fingers itching to touch you as his eyes roamed your body. “That’s new.”

“8-ball and I have been together for quite a while.” You shrugged, balancing on your toes to place a fresh bottle of scotch on the top shelf, your short black dress riding impossibly further up your thighs as you failed to reach.

“Yet you stayed in Stockton?” Bishop stepped forward, his body so close to yours as he stole the scotch from your grip, “Don’t you worry about him while you’re away? His wandering…” He paused as if he had to rethink his next choice of words but it was purely for building anticipation as his rough hands softly embraced your hips, “Hands?”

“Bishop-“

“You don’t think I know what you’re doing?” His hands trailed down your hips at a tantalizing pace, his hot breath fanning your exposed neck as the hairs of his beard tickled your skin and sent shivers through your body. “Coming all the way to Santo Padre for a good party every week? I can feel your eyes on me all night, your boyfriend not enough for you anymore?” He questioned as his hands reached your thighs, pushing your short dress further up until you were overexposed.

“No, you’re wrong.” Your voice was breathless as you tried to fight your inner demons. You wanted him so bad, the feel of his hands on your body burning to your core but you had a boyfriend and this was very wrong.

“This dress tells me otherwise…” His hand slipped into your thin black underwear, fingers diving into your wetness without care, “Your body tells me otherwise.”

The rumble of incoming motorcycles didn’t register in your ears until after Bishop quickly retracted his hand, smirking as you whimpered from the loss of contact. Without a word he took a clean glass off the bar and the fresh bottle of scotch before sitting at the closest table, leaving you standing shocked and exposed at the bar. The growing voices of the bikers outside snapped you out of your lustful state, your shaky fingers pulling your dress back down to cover your thighs just in time as the door opened and the rest of the Santo Padre charter filled the clubhouse. As you greeted the bikers with cold beers you didn’t miss the look that Hank sent Bishop or the way Bishop’s furrowed brow quickly turned on 8-ball as he was the last to enter the clubhouse. Something was amiss and you had a feeling it was not going to end well.

You were unable to shake the sinking feeling you had all week, it worsened each day as the next weekend grew closer day by day and there had been no word from 8-ball.

You were surprised to find a text on your phone from a number you didn’t recognize, the party invitation told you it was from someone in the M.C.

You arrived to the party later as you had been stuck at work, you were sure that the party was larger than usual- your theory being confirmed when you had spotted numbers of the Stockton charter. The Stockton charter greeted you with just as much enthusiasm as the boys from Santo Padre, but you couldn’t spot 8-ball anywhere in the crowd.

“I miss my old drinking partner.” The arm that was suddenly slung over your shoulder was accompanied by the familiar voice of Will Medina, Stockton’s Sergeant-at-arms. “Let’s grab a drink, then you’ve got a presidential meeting in Templo.”

Will led you to the bar, ordering a shot of tequila for you and a beer for himself. You quickly downed the shot, gesturing for the bartender to refill your glass as you hoped the alcohol would help ease the nervous feeling suddenly overwhelming you. Will nearly had to drag you away from the bar before you could order a third shot, guiding you toward the Temple where the officers of both charters had already started their discussion.

“I didn't realize I'd be allowed in here." You addressed the men sitting at the table, sending Will a pleading glance over your shoulder as he shut the door behind you.

“An exception is being made." Ramos eyes scanned your body and you suddenly remembered why you would often avoid the President of the Stockton charter. He smirked at your obvious discomfort and gestured to his lap. “You can have a seat if you’d like.”

They were already extending their rules to allow you inside Templo, it would be too much for you to occupy an empty chair of a patched member. “I’d rather stand.”

“When is the last time you spoke to 8-ball?" Taza- bless his soul, getting right down to the point and saving you from your discomfort.

“Before I left Santo Padre last weekend, he said he had club business so I caught an earlier flight home."

"You haven't talked to him all week?”

"No, I thought it was weird,” You nodded toward Bishop, taking in his concentrated gaze, “But after the looks you were giving him last week I can't say I was surprised."

“So you tipped him off and he made a run for it." Ramos accused.

“I'm not that stupid.” You scoffed as you stepped closer to the end of the table with your arms crossed over your chest. “Look, whatever 8-ball did was his own choice and he never told me anything about it. I like to keep my nose out of club business, specifically for this reason… especially after the time 8-ball tried to start that betting ring and keep the money under your noses.”

"I think she’s telling the truth.” Taza’s thoughtful gaze nearly made you smile if Ramos hadn’t been so quick to shoot him down.

"No one asked you.”

Bishop’s gaze snapped to the begrudged President, he didn’t appreciate anyone talking down to his men like that. “Out.”

Ramos slammed his hands on the table as he pushed himself out of the chair, glaring at everyone in the room as he stalked out with his Vice President hot on his heels. Taza waited until he was out of sight to stand from his chair, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder as he passed you on the way out.

“Sit.” Bishop’s rough voice broke the silence after a moment, nodding to the table in front of him as he sipped whiskey from his nearly empty glass. His dark eyes followed your every move as you walked around the table, perching on the edge in front of him.

“If you knew 8-ball wasn’t going to be here then why’d you wear this dress?” Bishop had took note of the dress the moment you walked in, it was slightly more modest length than the last skirt you wore but the way it perfectly accentuated each curve of your body was making his mouth water.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked down at him, “A girl isn't allowed to wear a dress that makes her feel pretty to a party?”

“You always look beautiful, sweetheart.” Bishop’s hands landed on the table on either side of your hips, his breath fanning your legs as he leaned forward.

“Thank you.” You sent him a small smile, lifting one heeled foot to gently meet his chest, pushing him to lean back in his chair as you eyed the pristine button-down shirt he wore, “New shirt?”

Bishop smirked wickedly as he missed your question completely, his attention pulled to where your lacy white tong was visible from the outstretched position of your leg. You gently slid off the edge of the table, planting both feet on the ground as you were suddenly reminded that this moment was happening in real life and not the fantasy land you often found yourself drifting to on your lonely nights.

“Bishop-“

“8-ball’s gone, sweetheart. He cleared out his apartment and ran like a coward.” Bishop stood, taking a single step forward so his body was pressed against your own to trap you against the table. “You really gonna let an asshole like him stop this? You’ll forget he ever existed in 5 minutes.”

It was silent as too many thoughts at once ran through your head, the heat of Bishop’s hand grazing your arm was all it took for you to make your choice. “Fuck him.”

“No,” Bishop smirked as his hands cupped your jaw, “Fuck me.”

Bishop’s lips moved against your own at a frantic pace, the feeling of his facial hair scratching your face felt even better than you had imagined, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped when you thought what his beard might feel like between your thighs. Your lips disconnected as you gently pushed him backwards, his curious gaze on you as he took in the suddenly shy body language you presented.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His genuine concern caused you to shift as it added fuel to the fire already burning within your body, his concern quickly shifted as he caught the way your thighs rubbed together to give you friction. “You have something you want me to do for you? Do to you?”

Your nimble fingers curled around the handle of the gavel that had been resting on the table, handing it to its rightful owner with a pleading look in your eyes. Each slow step he took forward you took one back until you hit the table, his eyes aflame as he spun you around and pushed your body to lean over the table without warning. Your breath caught in your throat as he pushed your dress up to your waist, exposing your butt to him and the cool air of the room. His fingers traced your soft skin as his eyes soaked in the perfect framing your white thong presented, his thumb pressing firmly against your soaked slit once before the wood of the gavel met your round cheek. The sudden pain pulling a gasp from your lips as your forehead rested on the table. You allowed yourself a few seconds to catch your breath before you wiggled your behind at Bishop, letting him know you wanted more. Hit after hit left you breathless and mewling against the table as you reveled in the pleasure it brought you, Bishop softly ran his hand over the slightly welted skin to sooth your pain, dropping the gavel on the table beside you as his now free hand travelled to the apex between your thighs.

“You liked that, sweetheart?” His fingers grazed your wetness over your thong, “You’re drenched… no need for these.” The lacy material was ripped off your body before you could protest, Bishop tossing the soaked material onto the table in front of you as his fingers finally sunk into your folds, finding your nub with his skilled fingers was easier than it had been with 8-ball- no matter how long the two of you had been together for. His pace started slow and teasing, working you up but not yet divulging into your real need. He pressed his body into your backside, allowing you to feel just how much he wanted you as he leaned over the table, using his hand to turn your head to pull you into a sloppy kiss. Your tongues battled as he sunk his first finger knuckle deep into your slit, soon adding another causing you to gasp into the kiss. You pulled away from his lips as you rocked your body to match pace with his fingers, desperately chasing the high your body craved. Bishop dropped to his knees, replacing his fingers with his hot mouth as your legs shook, the new sensation pushing you past your end as you unexpectedly gushed all over his beard, your body collapsing on the table with the intensity of the orgasm.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Bishop gently rested one hand on your back as he moved to see your face.

“I’ve never done… that before.” You felt yourself getting mildly embarrassed when you realized that you had squirted all over Bishop’s beard and kutte, your hand reaching to brush the visible splash off of his leather.

“It was hot.” Bishop halted your cleanup efforts, as he brought your hand up to his lips to plant a soft kiss against your knuckles. “Think you can handle another round?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, Bishop, I’m not leaving here without being filled with your cum.” You pushed your body off the table, lifting your dress off your body and unclasping your bra to leave yourself fully nude before your hands moved to unbuckle his belt. You reached into Bishop’s loosened jeans, squeezing his already rock hard cock as he pushed his pants down far enough to fully free himself. You pushed Bishop into his chair and climbed onto his lap, teasing your own dripping entrance with his cock before sinking down on him with a gasp. His eyes fell shut at the sensation of your hot, tight walls clenching around him, the impossibly slow pace at which you rocked your hips against his was driving him insane but he’d let you have your fun for now. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped you as you rocked your hips against his own, the slow tingle travelling up your spine as your pleasure slowly built was intoxicating.

Bishop couldn’t take another second, a squeal left your lips as he suddenly stood, setting your body onto the table before he thrust fast, hard and deep- hitting your sweet spot with every movement and dragging you to the edge. He buried his face in your breasts as he struggled to extend his release, his teeth sinking into your nipple as his length shot hot ropes of cum into you bringing you to reach your orgasm with a silent shout. Your exhausted body fell against the table with his still attached, both of you struggling to catch your breath after the earth shattering end.

“So I was right?”

“Huh?”

“You said you’ve been thinking about this for weeks. I was right.”

x x x

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[mischief-managed-snitches]

Imagine getting in an argument with Bishop and you say something disrespectful in front of the club and he tells you to "watch your pretty mouth before you get your shit rocked." 😅

#bishop losa #mayans imagine #mayans x oc #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #obispo losa #fiction #whump prompt #fic prompts #loveit #writing #romance

[oscars-wifeyyy]

7 Minutes

This is inspired by 7 Minutes by Dean Lewis

Bold is memories

Bishop had been on his bike for thirty minutes now, but he wasn’t in Santo Padre. He was in Santa Madre after he dropped you off except this time he wouldn’t go back to see you. It had seemed like it became too much for him to have you text him and ask if he was ok. The fight was still in his head. “What do you want from me, querida?” Bishop sighed as he dragged a hand down his face. “I want you to at least just text me to tell me you’re ok and safe. I mean, fuck, I also want to at least see your face once every two weeks or something! I don’t see you anymore, Obispo,” you raised your voice. Bishop’s patience ran thin as he raised his voice too, “I run a damn MC, (Y/N)! It’s not a office job where I get a lunch hour, it’s a 24/7 job so if you can’t fucking take that then I don’t think this’ll work,” Tears came into your eyes, “I’m not asking for much, but since you can’t give the minimum then I don’t think this’ll work either. I think you should-” your voice broke, “you should go,” “Maybe I should,” Bishop slammed the door on his way out before dismounting his bike and speeding off. Now the wind was rushing past him, he realized he didn’t even know where he was going so he looked around and saw the places you would go to. The first place you kissed which was a bar that wasn’t too far from your place. He went into the parking lot of the bar and parked his bike, but didn’t make any move to get off, instead just sat outside with a cigarette hanging on his lips. Soon the memory came into his head. “Bish, what are you doing here?” you smiled as you saw the older man stand next to you. “I wanted to see you,” Bishop smirked as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “you sounded off when you called me earlier so I decided to come and see if I could make it better,” “There is one way my day could be better,” you shyly smiled. “Oh yeah? What way is that?” Bishop asked so you turned and placed a hand on his neck to lightly pull him down and kiss him. He was shocked, but quickly became aware and started kissing back. Memories rushed back to him as he drove past the movie theatres that he took you to, but never got to watch because you and him were too busy talking, laughing, and making out in the parking lot. “What?! I did not do that when I first met you!” you laughed as you leaned against him as he leaned against your car. “Yes, you did! You definitely stared at me like I was the only man you saw,” Bishop smirked. “Whatever. You did the same and Vicky can say so because she was the one who told me that you looked at me like I was the only girl there,” you winked at him. “I definitely did,” Bishop leaned down and captured your lips with his. You put your hands on his waist to stabilize yourself as you went on the tips of your toes. The moment you two pulled away, he put his watch dorned wrist into his view and saw the movie had already started, “well, looks like we missed the movie,” You shrugged, “this was much better than a movie I can watch next time,” Bishop sighed as his realization had hit him like a train. Thoughts of how he could’ve done better in your relationship. Is it too late to turn around? He thought as he looked at the desert around him with the halfway mark between Santa Madre and Santo Padre. Without a second thought, he pulled onto the side of the road and stood from his bike, closing his eyes as more memories flooded his mind. Music was quietly playing in the background as you and him sat on your bed with glass of wine in both of your hands. Your head laid on his shoulders as you softly hummed with the song playing. “What song is this, nena?” Bishop asked as he liked how calm you became with the song. “Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol,” you answered as you looked at him so you could sing some of the lyrics to him, “We don't need anything or anyone. If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?” Bishop grabbed both of your glasses and set it on the bedside table before pulling you onto his lap and leaving his hands on your hips, “I will always want to forget the world with you by my side,” you laid your hands on his cheeks and gave him a soft kiss. He felt mad at himself as he tightened his fist with the feeling of wanting to hurt himself for ever forgetting to just give you his love. Bishop realized that all you wanted was for him to just show that he loved you, but he was so consumed with the MC that he forgot to do just that. He wanted to make it right and, even though he wouldn’t know if you were going to be home, he made a U turn and drove to your house as fast as he could. You heard his motorcycle before it reached your house as another set of tears streamed down your cheeks. Memories of the fight are still in your mind, but you pushed it aside and grabbed a water bottle to drink to replenish the water you lost because of the tears you cried. A soft knock was heard so you set aside the bottle and slowly opened the door. Bishop looked up and felt his heart break at the tears on your face. “Querida, I’m sorry. I know I was in the wrong and I forgot to love you,” Bishop felt a tear fall from his eyes, “please forgive me,” You nodded and opened your arms as he went into your arms and lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around him. He nudged the door closed with his foot and walked the both of you to your room.

#bishop losa #obispo bishop losa #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x reader #obispo bishop losa imagine #obispo losa #obispo losa imagine #Mayans MC #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc x reader #mayans x oc

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

It hurts like hell.

Tags: @wonderlust75 @sickofbitches @lexiibishop @noz4a2 @just1bri @redwolfs-world @queenbeered

Master List

Twenty-One

I could feel the spinning of the lights in my head as we finally made it to the hospital. It hurt. I don’t know what I expected a gunshot to feel like. But imagining and knowing are so far apart. The pain let me know I was still living.

“How the fuck did this happen?” I could hear Bishop talking to someone in the room.

“It was an fucking ambush,” Hank’s voice answered. “How’s she doing?”

“Bullet went through. Lost a lot of blood,” Bishop answered, “but she’s strong. They said she should be coming around soon.”

I groan feeling the pain still shooting through my shoulder as I start to sit up, “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“You were fucking shot, Hermana,” Hank says, “I’ll get a nurse, then go check on Riz and Coco.” He stands and heads out of the room.

“What happened to Coco?” I ask weakly.

“The explosion,” Bishop answered, “his eyes got fucked up. Angel and Gilly are with him now.”

“And Riz?” my eyes search his.

“Just came out of surgery,” he replied. “Rest now.”

“I just want to go home,” I look past him at the nurse, “when can I go home?”

“Should be able to go home today,” she says, “Doctor will be in here soon to confirm.” She hands me a cup with pain pills and a cup of water, “Those should help. You can arrange physical therapy with the medical center in Santo Padre.”

An hour later, I’m fitted in a sling and sitting in a wheelchair. A clear plastic bag in my lap holding my bloody clothes and broken heels. “They were my favorite pair,” I looked back at Bishop who was pushing my chair to the lobby where the rest of the Mayans were waiting. I give a nod to Coco sitting in his own chair.

“I’m sitting down with the Kings in the morning,” Bishop says.

Coco looks up, “Why? This is a charter play.” I knew what that meant.

“The deal with Charming affects the whole MC,” Bishop responds.

“They fucking ambushed us,” Gilly’s voice getting louder behind Coco. “After a fucking sit down.”

“I know,” Bishop said. I could see the turmoil in his face as he looked from Coco to me and the rest of the Mayans. The right thing. The right thing for his guys, the club, for me wasn’t an easy thing.

“Let’s get home,” Hank stated, “Get some rest. Put this on the table tomorrow.”

“Creep and I will stay with Riz,” Taza says.

“Keep me in the loop,” I look up at him, “he saved me.”

“Of course,” he leans down and gives me a peck on the cheek, “Anyone of us would have done the same, cariño.” I knew it. Riz proved it.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Bishop stated, then pushes my chair out the front door to the van waiting outside. I settled behind Gilly who was driving us back letting Coco ride shotgun. The ride back was silent. Anger clung to the air. It was raw and it was real. I couldn’t shake the image of El Palo’s eyes as they stared at me before he pulled the trigger. He never met me before that day and he hated me.

“Hey, we’re here,” Gilly called back to me. The van door slid open and EZ grabbed my bags and Angel took my hand and helped me down. I was groggy from the drugs but I could still feel the pain in my shoulder.

“I’ll drive you home tomorrow,” Bishop led me up the steps and down the hall to the dorm, “the Kings will be here early.” I take a seat on the bed. I tried not to think about how many cum stains were on the mattress. I was exhausted.

“I have to call the Irish,” I grumbled as Bishop helped me off with my shoes. “Whatever I tell them will change what goes on with Charming and with you.”

“I know, querida,” he kissed my forehead and pulled back the blanket, and tucked me under. “I can’t tell you how to land on that shit. We gotta figure out the best call for all of us.”

I woke the next morning to the piercing ring of my phone, I cried out in pain as I remembered my shoulder had a fucking whole-blown in it. Bishop had already gotten dressed and was likely at the table. Figuring out what to do about the VM.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Are ya alright, lass?” the thick Irish accent of Declan Brogan asked. “Chibs told us what happened at the meeting last night.”

“I’ll be ok,” I winced as I placed my arm back in the sling, then down the pills, Bishop left on the nightstand. “Is there any other way to keep the business going without that new partner?”

“I’ve put it to Chibs to find another way, but the fucking Mexicans fucked this up,” he responded, “never trusted them.”

“You never trust anyone that has a deeper tan than off-white,” I shuffle to my feet. “I can’t see the Mayans' answer to what happened being anything but retaliation.”

“Aye,” he replied, “if they don’t we will.”

“And that will cause everything to fall the fuck apart,” I wasn’t sure what to do. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

I never realized how hard it was doing things with one hand. I washed up in the bathroom and struggled to change my shirt and slide my pants up over my hips. Fortunately, I found yoga pants and one of Bishop’s black tanks stashed here. I look up as I hear a knock on the door.

“Yo, Malibu,” Angel saunters in, “Bish sent me to see if you needed any help.”

“I got the front bandage changed,” I said, “just need help with the back. My bra is hooked all wonky, can you fix that? And tying my shoes. How are your ponytail skills?”

“You’re asking for a lot,” he said, taking the sterile bandage from the table and then sat behind me on the bed.

“You saying you can’t handle it?” I flinch a little as his hand touches my back gently. Angel changed the bandage expertly. I was almost shocked.

“Na, just used to taking bras off not putting them on,” he fumbles, fixing the hooks, “I am a pro at that too.” Proud of himself he pulls the back of my shirt back down. He ties my sneakers and takes my hairbrush from me and brushes the tangles from my hair.

“I’m surprised,” I smooth my hair with my only available hand. “Thank you.”

“You scared us last night, Malibu,” Angel’s voice didn’t have the same tone as normal. “Can’t have you getting killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone shoots at me,” I offer a smile and walk with him down the hall. Gilly slides a chair out for me and sets a beer on the table in front of me. “Bishop?”

“The kings,” he points to the stained glass door.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Coco. He looked out of it. Wasn’t sure if it was the pain or the anger that gave him that look.

“Fucked,” he replied and took another drag from his cigarette. I nodded. I didn’t know his exact diagnosis but I did know that if his eyesight didn’t improve he couldn’t ride. If he couldn’t ride he couldn’t wear a patch. And for him the patch was everything. Coco’s family outside of the MC was beyond fucked up.

I turn, watching the kings and their crew file out of the stained glass door. I met Bishop’s troubled eyes with my own. The weight of things. Whatever decision either of us made would fuck things up for someone else.

“They heading out?” Gilly asked as the clubhouse door closed behind the other kings.

“They’re staying at Vicki’s until we sort this out,” Hank answered.

“What’s to sort out?” Coco inquired.

“You’re a smart man, Coco,” Bishop stated. “You know what’s at stake here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “My fucking eyesight. It don’t get better I may never fucking ride again.”

Bishop looked at me then back to Coco, “We’re looking at millions of dollars in gun revenue for the entire Mayan organization.”

“So the CEOs of the Mayans Incorporated are deciding what’s best huh?” Coco’s one eye narrowed as he stood, “I hope y’all came up with a medical plan cause I’m gonna fucking need it.” Then storms out the front door.

“I’ll stay close,” Gilly followed after him. Bishop nodded and paced the floor. After asking Hank to reach out to Alverez, he looked at me. I could see the weariness in his eyes. He hadn’t slept since we got back. He carried it all with him. Coco, Riz, me. He bore that weight on his shoulders.

I stand following Bishop to a corner table. “I’m here, babe,” I tell him, my hand laying over his, “whatever you need.”

“I know, querida,” he kissed my temple, “I know.” I should have told him what Declan said but I couldn’t lay another burden on him. Not now. Not until they decided.

---

I sit at the table alone nursing a beer, watching the stained glass again. I lost count of the minutes that I’d waited for a club decision for anything. This time Bishop was getting council from Marcus. Bishop needed that guiding hand. That family connection to point him in the right direction. Or to encourage him to forge his own path. He was after all a king in his own right.

“I can take you to Vicki’s if you’d like,” Hank said when he exited the room.

“I’ll wait for Bishop,” I give him a smile, “has he eaten anything?”

“Have you?” he responded.

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” I tell him.

“And we’re supposed to take care of you, cariño,” he said, “if something worse than this,” he points to my sling, “had happened to you, it would break him.”

I nodded, “If anything happened to him,” I look at the big biker, “well I’m just hoping you don’t let me find out what would happen without him.”

I stood up when the stained glass slides open again and Marcus and Bishop walk out of Templo. “We’ll have to meet sometime when someone hasn’t just tried to kill me,” I give the former biker a peck on the cheek.

“When this is all settled,” he replied, “I’ll have my wife give you a call and we’ll have dinner or something.” He glances back at Bishop with a nod, “Primo.” Then left through the front door.

The Mayans dropped their phones in the basket outside the stained glass door, I watch as it closed behind them. The vote for payback. The pain in my shoulder wanted fucking vengeance, for myself, for Coco, and for Riz. But I knew that the deal with the VM was the one thing that kept the Irish guns in the hands of the Mayans.

I took a sip from my Diet Coke feeling every tick of the clock pulsing through my vein. The pain, stress of the wrong decision. I jump at the sound of the door being forcefully slung open and Coco storming out muttering curses in Spanish I didn’t understand. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset at the ‘No Vengeance’ vote.

I waited, watching as each man came out of Templo, none of them seemed fully satisfied with the vote but they knew it was the best thing for the club. Bishop slides the chair out beside mine and stuffs a cigarette between his lips. He doesn’t say a word for a long time. He doesn’t have to, I can feel how heavy the crown had become.

“If I didn’t have to think about the entire fucking club,” he said resting his hand on mine, “I’d kill every last one of those motherfuckers.”

“I know,” I replied. “It’ll work itself out.” I didn’t have a chance to tell him what Declan said to me this morning. The Vatos would be dead for what happened. By Mayan King or Irish.

I give his hand a gentle squeeze, preparing the words, to let him know that the deal would be dead no matter what. “Bishop…” I’m interrupted by the vibration of his phone.

“Shit,” Bishop said softly to his caller. “I’ll let them know.” His chair scrapes the floor as he stands. “Riz didn’t make it. Just spoke to Taza. He died about fifteen minutes ago. The vote is null and void,” he watches the faces of his men, “We’re going to war.”

---

Neither of us slept very well. How do you sleep when the person who saved your life lost his in the process?

“Can you stay with Vicki until we figure this shit out?” he asked as he helps me get dressed. “I won’t be able to help you. And she can use someone to be there with her.”

“Yeah,” I place my arm in the sling after smoothing my shirt down. “I can do that. Do you need help with anything else?”

“No, mi Amor,” he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, “just for this shit to be done.”

He carries my overnight bag and places it in the back seat of my SUV, then helps me in the passenger’s seat. We rode in silence across the desert road to Vicki’s. Bikes were lined up, the club had already arrived.

“You need anything,” Bishop told Vicki, “don’t hesitate…” Vicki sobbed her acknowledgment then buried her face again in Taza’s chest. I didn’t speak enough Spanish to make out exactly what she said, but I could feel Vicki’s pain. Her heart was crumbling in pieces.

“Riz was her only family this side of the border,” Gilly said. I nod looking for something to do someway to help but there was nothing. And every inch of the place had a biker standing in it.

“Sit down, Princesa irlandesa,” Oso Ramos said to me. “You’re trying to do too much.”

“And you’re not trying to do enough,” I said back. I saw them circling Bishop like vultures. I knew they were trying to convince him to change his decision. “How many casualties do you think would justify it? Would you have a different view if the dead Mayan had an Oakland flash?”

“This is not the fucking time or /your/ place,” Ramos responded.

“I guess it’s not,” I stormed off, running smack into Angel’s chest as I head into the kitchen.

“Watch where you’re going, Malibu,” he said.

“Get out of my fucking way,” I responded. I needed out and Angel was blocking my escape. After I had a clear head. I sat down at the kitchen table and pull a cigarette out of an abandoned pack, I place it between my lips and flick a lighter, leaning into the flame. The burn of the smoke as I inhaled was soothing. I was able to focus again.

“Thought you didn’t smoke,” Angel said behind me.

“I don’t,” I inhale again flicking the ash in the tray. I wanted to wipe the tears from my face but I had no free hands. “Sorry about before.” He nodded then pulled a chair out to sit beside me, lighting a cigarette of his own.

“I didn’t know Riz well,” I said, “I know he liked to sing softly to himself in Spanish when he was working on his bike in the garage. I know he kept an arrowhead in the pocket of his kutte with his cigarettes. And I know that even though he didn’t really know me,” I sniffed, “he dove in front of a bullet to save my life.” I could feel the tears start pouring down my face. I couldn’t hold back the sobs. Angel wrapped his arms around my shoulders and let me cry. I let out everything I’d been holding in over the last several days.

“You’re snotting all over my shirt, Malibu,” he said.

“It’s fucking ugly anyway,” I responded.

#Mayans Mc #mayans x oc #mayans fanfic #bishop losa x reader #bishop x oc #obispo losa

[garbinge]

Contaminated (12/?)

Bishop Losa!Dad x OC Lara Barrera Losa Angel Reyes x OC Lara Losa

A/N: Been a MINUTE. But since it’s been a while I figured I’d give you something to hold you over so enjoy all 6k words of this!

For a refresh, all the chapter links are in the below link!

Chapter Index

TW: 18+, mentions of sex, murder, death, violence, drugs, and alcohol. Angsty, sad, heartbreaking. 

Word Count: 6.5k 

Taglist: (Just let me know if you want to be added :) @est1887 @minimel-fics @spnaquakindgdom @nessamc @alienstardust @mrsstevenbuchananstark @hinagiku0 @lyly00 @drabbles-mc @lilac-tea-time (it’s been a while since I’ve posted this, if I’ve forgot to add you to the taglist or you’d like to be tagged just let me know!)

Weeks had passed without incident. In every aspect of, well, everything. The Calavaras hadn’t left a note, made an appearance, or made themselves known at all to the club or to Lara. And per Bishop’s rules, Lara was home at 10 every night. No one suspected Angel and Lara of anything, including Frankie or EZ. Overall, things were going pretty well. 

Lara made her way out of her room, it was early but she had the first shift at the restaurant today, some business meeting rented the entire restaurant out. Lara walked down the hallway of her apartment and froze when she saw Bishop sitting at the island in the kitchen. After the initial startle of things, Lara kept walking over to him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Frankie let me in while she was, well I think on her way in, also.” Bishop tried to joke and ended his sentence with a chuckle. 

“Yea not everyone has an early curfew.” Lara rubbed the sleep out of her eye as she reached for a mug and poured a cup of coffee for both her and Bishop. 

She turned around and placed the cup in front of Bishop, “4 sugars, no cream.” 

He nodded and wrapped his hand around the mug, letting the liquid cool down before sipping it. The only sound that could be heard was the clock mounted on the wall ticking, the blinds blowing in the subtle morning breeze from the window, and the slight slurps of Lara sipping her coffee. 

“Why are you here? I’ve been abiding by your rules. Home by 10, everyday. There haven’t been any notes. What’s your beef?” Lara crossed her arms. 

“No beef. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” Bishop picked something out of his pocket and pushed it across the island towards his daughter. It was a long black velvet box. 

Lara stared at the box for a couple minutes before uncrossing her arms. “I honestly forgot it was today.” She shook her head and pulled the seat up across from her father and made her self comfortable. “You didn’t have to do this.” She pushed the box back to him. 

“It was your mother’s, birthday or not, you should have it. It was one of the first pieces of jewelry she made.” Bishop left the box where it was and finished his cup of coffee in one last sip. He stood up from the table. “That was all I came for, thanks for making things easy. I–uh, I’m handling the Calaveras. It’s not done yet but we’re almost there.” Bishop offered up the smallest piece of information he could, but Lara knew it was a lot for him. But even though it was a lot, it wasn’t enough for her. 

“Thanks.” Lara said with nothing else but a nod. 

Bishop began walking away towards the front door, he did what he came to do, and even though it pained him to leave like this, he knew he had to, but not without one last try. “There’s a party tonight at the club house. You should come. Forget about the curfew, you’ll be with the club, and  if you want to go home, I’ll have one of the guys bring you home.” Bishop was turned slightly with his hand on the doorknob but looking for some type of acknowledgement from Lara. 

“Birthday party? The guys better have presents for me.” 

Bishop let out a genuine laugh at that comment, there she was, the daughter he knew. While, he was well aware that she was joking, he also knew it wasn’t his place to joke back with her yet so he left with a chuckle and a ‘see you tonight.’ 

Lara let out a breath after Bishop left and laid her body across the kitchen island almost in defeat. It was easy to put a front up to Bishop, especially while she was still upset with him, but the aftermath of that looked messy for Lara.  Her head laid on the cold countertop of the island as she let out a groan, as her arm sprawled across the island it bumped into the velvet box, pushing it a couple inches away. She looked up through her hair and hesitated before finally grabbing the box and opening it. 

It was a soft, silver metal chain. Thin and dainty with a small clasp that could you tell was attached by hand. Lara’s hand glided against the chain until it hit the main design of the bracelet. 3 butterflies, all welded together. They looked like they were made from spoon handles, one of Lara’s favorite things to use for jewelry making. 

“I wish you were here.” Lara mumbled as she clasped the bracelet around her arm. 

____________

So, the business meeting at her job was more of a Galindo rent-a-space situation. The morning consisted of breakfast with Miguel and his family. That lasted longer than Lara expected a brunch would, but I guess family time was limited with the Galindo’s and they’d take any opportunity of shared time. After that, Marcus had showed up along with who Lara knew was Miguel’s head of security. It was news to Lara that Marcus was getting buddy buddy with Miguel and crew, luckily as he was walking into the restaurant wasn’t her way of finding out. Marcus had left a note for her the day before at her hostess stand. 

Mi sobrina. I’m taking you up on your offer. Don’t need the free meal, but could use the space tomorrow for business. Make the reservation under Galindo. Whole restaurant, all day. Left a deposit with the owner but wanted to give you the heads up. Didn’t mention you, but I can if it’ll help. Love you, see you tomorrow. - Tio Marcus. 

It was now hours into their meeting upstairs, it was pretty quiet in the space, some chatter from the group of men but besides that it was her and one other waitress who Lara knew could keep things disclosed without issue. Lara was at the hostess stand figuring out the rest of the weeks reservations and caterings.

“Lara.” Marcus nodded as he approached the girl. Lara looked up a bit frazzled but relaxed and shook her head once she saw Marcus with a soft smile on his face. 

“Everything okay? Anything I can get you guys?” Lara closed the planner she was working in and stacked the restaurant’s iPad on top of it as she leaned onto the stand. 

“No, no, everything is perfect, you set us up perfectly. Discrete. Good food.” Marcus put his hands to rest on the hostess stand as he spoke. “Just came over to thank you and let you know they’re wrapping up soon. I know we’ve been here a long time.” He smiled as he looked up at the clock above. 

“No worries, I blocked out everything for the whole day to be safe.” 

Marcus nodded and tapped his fist lightly on the top part of the stand. He had his riding gloves on, but Lara knew he didn’t bring his bike here. 

“You still ride?” She pointed to the gloves. 

“Any chance I get.” He answered her quickly. “You can take the biker out the club but you can’t take the biker out the man.” 

Lara let out a scoff, it was meant to be more of a chuckle but it definitely came out more harsh. Marcus picked up on it and gave her a look. “Sorry, just–” she paused wondering how much she wanted to share with him, how much he already knew. 

“He’s protecting you.” Marcus started at the girl straight in her eyes. “It’s what I would do, too.” 

Lara knew better than to argue with Marcus, so she nodded and broke eye contact. Marcus didn’t mean to overpower the girl, it was a demeanor that he just had. He also was good at reading the room so he quickly changed topics and lightened the mood. 

“I’m getting out of here but Izzy is hounding me to get you over the house.” He stepped back a few feet which is when the rest of the Galindo crew started to make their way downstairs.  “Oh and uh, happy birthday. It’s today, right?”

Lara smiled, “yep, another year wiser.” She gave a wink with a grin. 

“Thank you for the hospitality.” Miguel was now in earshot as he buttoned his suit jacket and placed his cellphone in his pocket. 

Lara answered him with a simple nod and with that he was out the door that Marcus was holding open for him. 

“Yea, uh, thanks for the hospitality, and giving us something pretty to look at.” Galindo’s head of security nodded up at Lara. 

At this point, Marcus and Miguel were outside already, getting into the various G-Wagons that were parked out front. 

“I’m Nestor, I can drop you off if you need a ride? Or we could hang out?” the man with braids outreached his hand over to Lara entering her personal space. She took a step back to create more space between them before shaking his hand. There wasn’t much room behind the hostess stand so she was leaning up against the marble counter that served as a divider from the entrance to the restaurant. 

Their handshake dropped, and before Lara could answer, someone else’s voice spoke up. 

“What’s up, Pippy Longstockings?” Angel’s voice was full of pettiness and a little humor. His gaze landed on Lara and he smirked. 

Nestor looked over at Angel who was standing next to him, and then turned back to Lara. “I guess we’ll rain check that ride home.”

“It’s okay, Angel normally gives me a ride home.” 

“And if he can’t?”

“Then I’m here.” Bishop’s voice could be described as booming. It was loud and firm as he walked into the restaurant. It echoed against the empty walls of The Villa. 

Lara brought her hand up to rub her forehead as her eyebrows raised in embarrassment. Nestor took the hint without issue, made his exit quick and quiet leaving the two bikers in front of Lara. Without words she shook her head and wrinkled her forehead as her hands raised. 

“Figured we’d give you an escort to the club. Frankie’s there already.” Bishop gave an answer to Lara’s silent question. 

“Takes two of you?” Lara tried to give off an attitude to throw any trail of her and Angel’s secret relationship to the wind. 

“Angel and I were doing shit nearby, figured you could use the escort.” Bishop said. 

“I had Frankie drop me off this morning, don’t have my car. Gonna have to hop on your bike.” She was looking at Bishop when she said it, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. If it was up to her she’d ask Angel to drive her out of town, get far away from the MC, from her father, or at the very least she would have asked him to take her home and hang there for the night. But instead, she had to save face, which meant doing exactly what she didn’t want. 

“Angel will take you to the clubhouse.” Bishop said looking at his phone. “I got something I gotta handle.” 

Angel looked back to his president and moved his head towards the burner cell. “All good, prez?” 

“Yea, yea, it’s Sophie.” Bishop said putting his phone back in his pocket. 

Lara bit her tongue, she wanted to say something to tease her father. Sophie and Bishop was something she had toyed with setting up in her head a lot and to see that over the last few weeks something was starting up between them made her a bit happy. Bishop needed that. Maybe it’d offer Lara some benefit as well. 

Luckily for Lara, Angel didn’t need to bite his tongue. 

“Bow chicka bowwww wowwww, Bish. Didn’t know you started pressin’ up on that.” Angel said as he lightly tapped Bishop like he was fake boxing with him. 

“I ain’t pressin’ up on shit.” Bishop pushed Angel’s hands away. 

Angel raised his hands in surrender but still had the biggest smile on his face. “You got it, Bish.” 

Lara was holding back the biggest laugh, it was a breath of fresh air, but then again these past couple weeks have been that with Angel. Despite trying to hide their relationship, things were great with them. They were going on dates, out of town but dates none the less, they were sneaking over each others places, talking, it was exactly what the girl needed. 

“Go, both of you, before I decide I need you to wash my truck and my bike tonight conveniently making you unavailable for the party.” Bishop stared at Angel. 

Angel nodded knowing not to argue with Bishop anymore. He lead the way out the restaurant, holding the door open as Lara grabbed her jacket and bag. As she slung her bag over her shoulder her eyes met with Bishops, instead of letting them linger she gave a half ass smile and nod and walked past him towards Angel who had the door open. Bishop followed shortly behind her, and made his way towards his bike, not saying anything else. As he started his bike he lifted his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, but he knew there was tension between him and his daughter. Lara didn’t do any but look at him before averting her gaze to Angel who was still holding the door open. 

“You can wait outside, I have to lock up.” She dangled the keys as she spoke to Angel while the sound of Bishop’s bike faded in the distance. 

He nodded and moved through the second set of doors to The Villa and stood right next to it on the outside. 

Lara shut the lights off and slid the latch over the door before locking it, she turned to the second door and made her way outside. Her hand grasped the handle and closed it shut, she played with the key ring looking for the right one to lock the door. 

“You know you don’t need to stay so close.” She said it with a smile. 

Angel smiled back as he leaned against the window of the restaurant. “Looks good to Bishop. To him I’m just your protection.” 

“I don’t see Bishop here anymore.” Lara said as she finished locking the door and moved to lean against it looking up to Angel. “Plus I don’t think you need to monitor my every move.” 

“I don’t know about that, I think you got a couple moves I need to monitor.” His smile turned into a grin. 

“Shut tup and take me to the clubhouse. And if you go over 80, there will be no monitoring of any moves.” Lara pushed herself off the glass and made her way to his bike. Angel was close behind her as they approached his bike. As they got situated on the bike, Angel grabbed his helmet and passed it to the girl before turning over the bike to start.

“Happy Birthday.” Angel said over the engine. 

She froze with her hand on the helmet she was putting on. She was staring at the back of him wondering if maybe she heard him wrong. “You remembered my birthday?” 

“Heard Bish mention it to Hank today.” He said as he placed his riding gloves on. 

“Thanks.” Lara said awkwardly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday is coming up?” Angel asked curiously. 

Lara thought about how she wanted to answer, there was a truth behind why her birthday was not something that was celebrated too often. But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to open up about it, especially to Angel. 

“I stopped paying attention years ago, you know, after 21.” She shrugged it off. Angel accepted the answer and went to hit the kickstand up on his bike while Lara moved her hands around his waist. She felt the awkward tension, the fact she kept something from him, the very clear excuse behind why her next words weren’t exactly what she wanted, but she knew it’d get a laugh out of him. “So what’d you get me?” Her head rested on his shoulder. 

With a chuckle and a shake of his head he looked back at her, “was hard to pull together a last minute gift.” And with that, they drove off. 

______________

Lara let out a belly laugh as she casually bumped into Angel on the picnic table they were sitting at with Frankie, EZ, and Coco. EZ’s laugh was comparable in volume. The group of them were having the time of their lives at the club party. To be honest, since Lara and Angel had started their sneaking around, or as their group of friends looked at it, their newly found friendship vs their previous bickering, the entire group of them had a really great time together. 

Angel wasn’t even drinking that night, he took his responsibility for Lara seriously. He knew Bishop wouldn’t let him be the one to keep eyes on her if he fucked anything up so if that meant sticking to cigarettes at a club party then so be it. 

EZ stood up from the table, grabbing everyone’s empties. “‘nother round?” he asked looking around the table for confirmation. 

“I’m good.” Angel replied a little too quick to get past EZ. His younger brother stared at him with a slight frown for a minute before his thoughts were interrupted by the girls. 

“Yea I could have another.” Frankie was scrolling on her phone, barely paying attention to what was around her. 

“I’ll have one more.” Lara said before pulling her own phone out. 

EZ frowned deeper, and this time his reaction was matched. Frankie was looking up from her phone now at her best friend in shock. “One more?” Her voice was confused. Despite it being just a general out of the norm behavior for Lara, it was her birthday, which made it all the more weird she wasn’t drinking much. 

“Long day, I’m tired.” Lara shrugged it off, paying more attention to her phone than the company around her in hopes to get them off her back. 

“It’s your birthday.” Frankie stated like that fact changed everything. 

“So?” Her shrug would’ve been enough to say it all but the added ‘so’ was the cherry on top for Frankie. 

“What is it? Your 50th birthday? Too old to party? Take a shot.” Frankie was a little tipsy which was where the encouragement to drink was coming from. 

“Even the 50 year olds can hang.” Coco said pointing to the group of the older Mayan men who were hollering about something or someone, clearly wasted beyond their means. 

Lara had looked up to see where Coco was pointing to which is when she saw Bishop making his way in from the gates of the club. He was just getting in from wherever he was with Sophie, if that was the truth. His eyes were scanning the lot, taking in the state of his clubhouse. Lara could tell he was taking note of everything, who was here, who had disappeared, what the state of the yard looked like, how many people were already passed out on some piece of furniture, and that’s when their eyes met. His eyes softened, it was a look Bishop rarely was able to give anymore, but just seeing his daughter sucker punched it out of him. It was one of the many reasons he hated having her around the club. She made him soft. It was a weak spot, and anyone with eyes could see that. Bishop nodded his head at the girl. There was a lot being said in the gesture and Lara knew that.  At some point while Frankie was explaining how Lara aged into an elderly woman because she only wanted one more beer, EZ had retreated to the clubhouse to get the drinks. The beer clinked down in front of Lara and without even looking down she took it and raised it towards Bishop. His eyes moved to the beer and that’s when he saw the bracelet on her arm. A smirk filled his face for the quickest second, it felt like a win for him. He left expecting the girl to not even look at the gift, let alone wear it. But it felt like his effort had been received. And just like that, her eyes moved and it was like nothing had happened. 

Lara was mentally not okay. Between her the weight of her birthday, the tension with Bishop and the fact that Frankie had started to drink hard liquor, she just wanted to go home. Her eyes scanned over Angel who was in a deep conversation with Coco about god knows what. Her mind was trying to process the best way to go about leaving where Angel could take her without it being obvious she wanted him to take her. After a few minutes of thought, she was up and moving towards Bishop. 

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go home.” She said interrupting his conversation with a patch from another charter. Bishop turned to Lara shocked she was talking to him. 

“You sure? I had the prospect pick you up a cake.” 

Bishop’s voice wasn’t normal. The sentence even earned him a look from the people around him. He was trying. Which is why the next words out of Lara’s mouth killed her to say but she couldn’t deal with him pushing her out when he wanted and bringing her back in when he wanted. She knew he had valid points for doing what he did, but after all this time, she was done with him pushing her away and despite the fact that he was inviting her in again, she wasn’t going to be stuck in a cycle of this. She had to break it. 

“Don’t want cake.” She stared at Bishop with a neutral face. It was silent between them, the few guys that were around Bishop had gotten up and moved, clearly feeling the vibe. “So am I ubering or is one of the guys taking me home?” Her arms moved to her back pockets but in no way was she relaxed. 

“You don’t need to check in with me, you can just go home.” Bishop said a little more like the president of the club now, not Lara’s father. 

Lara let a laugh out, it was unbelievable what he just said and she was going to let him know. “Don’t bullshit me. If I took a uber you’d have a fucking conniption. Don’t act fuckin’ coy, Bishop.” 

“Angel!” Bishop called out not wanting to have this discussion any longer. 

Angel made his way over with a slight pep in his step. “Sup Bish?” 

“You been drinkin’?” His eyes were still on Lara. 

“Nah, not even one beer.” Angel lifted his hands in innocence. 

“Taka Lara home.” Bishop wasn’t even going to let Lara weigh in, his eyes were focused on Angel. 

“You got it, Bish.” 

Angel and Lara began walking towards the row of bikes in silence. Lara still had her hands in her back pockets as she walked, Angel ahead of her due to his long steps. Bishop had turned back around in his seat, leaning back as he smoked a cigarette. There was a change in demeanor, he felt the anger inside him bubble up. He was sick of the attitude from Lara and had no idea how to handle it. In all honesty, a sit down talk and some compromises on both ends would have been enough but Bishop and Lara weren’t exactly the best at communication. Which is why Bishop didn’t think twice before speaking, he knew the words he was going to say would cut, but he didn’t care in that moment.

There was a cold breeze that came in and it made Lara remove her hands from her pockets so she could rub her hand up and down her arm in an attempt to shake the chills. She was only about 10 feet away when Bishop called out to her. 

“Hey, Lara.” Bishop said not even giving her the respect of looking at her. “Don’t forget I’m the only family you got.” 

Lara was already frozen from when she turned to acknowledge him, but she felt her heart stop when he finished his sentence. It wasn’t a gut punch, that was a calculated statement. It was a good one too. To listening ears it seemed like a simple reminder, sure, a little pointed, but something anyone could shake off. But to Lara, it held power. Her birthday held a lot of pain, her brother’s death anniversary was only a few weeks away and the weight of that got heavier, made it hard to celebrate. Bishop knew that. Knew the comment would knock the girl down. 

Lara had instantly buried the pain, anger taking its place. So many things popped into her head to say back to him. There was even a moment where she considered stepping to him, pushing him off the chair. But instead she turned around and kept walking. Her eyes met Angel’s who was waiting for her, she wasn’t sure if he heard the comment, but he definitely saw her wipe a tear or two from her face before she made it over to his bike. 

“You good?” He handed her his helmet. The both of them standing on opposite sides of the bike. 

Lara placed it on her head and clipped it and just gave him a nod. “Yea, I’m fine.” 

He nodded, and got on the bike, knowing there wasn’t anything he was going to pull out of her here in the scrapyard. 

_______

Angel pulled up to Lara’s place, cutting the engine of his bike. He wasn’t sure if he was staying but he did know he wanted to at least talk with the girl and didn’t want to be screaming over the rumbling. 

“You got a minute?” Angel said to Lara as she walked up to the front porch of her place. 

“For you? I’ll make it two.” She smiled sitting on the steps. 

Angel smiled and joined the girl, he sat a step above her, his leg was against her shoulder. She leaned into him for a second before getting up and moving in between his long legs, still a step below him. She leaned back against him as he placed his arms around her shoulders. His lips came down to her cheek and he pressed a kiss to it before whispering in her ear. 

“I got you something.” 

Lara looked up at him. “I thought you said it was too last minute.” 

“I heard Bish say it this morning. Gave me time to pick something up, just wanted to give it to you when we were alone.” 

“Oh it’s that type of gift.” Lara turned back around with an eye roll before he was leaning back over her. He laughed as he placed a kiss on the side of her head as he grabbed the gift and brought it around in front of her. It was a medium sized box covered in confetti wrapping paper. It wasn’t wrapped beautifully at all, but the effort was there. Lara felt her heart in her stomach, she truly wasn’t expecting anything. 

“What is this?” She frowned and looked back at him shocked. 

“Open it and find out.” He nodded at the gift. 

Lara’s attention moved back to the box as she stood it at dumbfoundly for a minute, purely in shock that Angel had actually picked something up for her. She began to unwrap it, the wrapping paper falling to her side on the stairs to reveal the beautiful hand painted jewelry box. It was clay ceramic but painted over completely in black, the cover had a bird painted in purple and pink pattern with a similar pattern in teal surrounding it. The walls of the box had pink flowers, each one slightly different than the next, hand painted around it. Inside was a soft cushion on the left that was made to hold a variety of rings while the right was divided into two sections for other pieces. The roof of the box was saved for necklaces, while it’s surface was bare only showing the clay colored ceramic, there were tiny metal hooks that looked custom made with small details around them and held in place with small ceramic tiles that matched the colors outside. 

“Angel.” Lara’s breath was hitched in the back of her throat, the shock, the amazement, all the emotions were flooding her as she stared at the beautiful jewelry box he had just gifted her.

“I noticed that you had a bunch of wooden boxes for the stuff you make and they’re overflowing so, I don’t know thought maybe this could be some sort of solution, although, it’s not gonna fit all your stuff, but if you like it, I can take you to the place in Mexico where I got it and we can get more, it’s got those compartments and shit to organize things better, if that’s what you want, no pressure, the lady told me you can take that stuff out if you like the system you got going on.” Angel rambled on, clearly nervous that it wasn’t a good gift and that Lara was upset. 

“Mexico?” Lara’s head snapped to look at him, even more shocked that he made a trip over the border for this. 

“Had some time this morning, noticed the spot once when a group of us were over in Santa Madre. Figured I’d try my luck. Feel like you can’t buy the girl who makes jewelry, jewelry, you know?” He chuckled, still nervously. 

“Angel this is…” Lara tried to find the right words before landing on one. “This is perfect. It’s beautiful, I can’t thank you enough.” Her glance went back to the jewelry box, her hands running over the textured paint and smiled back at him. 

Relief washed over him, his face filled with a smile as she still stared at the jewelry box. “Oh, and look,” Angel’s hand reached over the girl’s shoulder and grabbed the ring cushion out and flipped it upside down. “There’s a little secret pouch for things you want to keep hidden.” He unclasped the fabric that opened a small bag like area for exactly that, items you wanted to keep more private. 

Lara smiled as he brought the cushion back into the box and secured it back in.  “Do you want to come in?” 

___________

He did. The two took advantage of the house being empty, Lara was grateful that Frankie had decided to stay at the clubhouse and party a bit more, gave her a moment (or two) with Angel back at home. 

The two of them laid in Lara’s bed, the covers laying over their naked bodies as they caught their breath. 

“I would have bought you a jewelry box years ago if I knew it was going to get me that.” Angel teased as Lara chuckled and slapped his chest. “Happy Birthday” Angel laughed and kissed the girl on the lips, his hand cupping her face as he did before falling back in bed, his left hand moving back behind his head as Lara rested her head on his chest.

White noise filled the room, neither of them were asleep, but it was in the air. That was until Lara spoke up. “Do you think I should have stayed at the clubhouse tonight?” 

It was a genuine question. Her mind might have been occupied with other things since getting home but now that things were quiet, her mind was able to fill back up with all the thoughts again. 

“You think you should’ve?” Angel answered her question with a question, his eyes closed as he answered. 

“I think that everything is fucked.” Lara said point blankly. 

This made Angel open his eyes. 

“Not this, I don’t mean this. I mean with Bishop.” Lara corrected herself. 

“Bish’s got a lot on his plate you know–” Angel started. 

“I’m not talking to you as a club member, Angel, I’m talking to you as the girl you fuck from time to time and buy jewelry boxes.” Her words were harsh but she knew Angel could handle them. 

“So my girlfriend, you’re talking to me as my girlfriend.” He said and Lara could feel his heart speed up a bit as the nerves worked their way through his system. 

“Finally.” Lara said with a chuckle and started to trace his tattoos on his chest. 

Angel took a sigh of relief and kept the conversation moving, they didn’t need to dwell on the details just yet. 

“You talkin’ about what Bishop said to you tonight?’ Angel’s other arm, the one not behind his head moved up and down Lara’s back. 

“You heard him?” Lara now was sitting up a bit, so she could see Angel’s face. 

“I did. I still stand by what I said, he’s got a lot on his plate, makes someone lash out easier.” He shrugged in explanation. 

“Feels like it's just who we are at this point. Two people who will never see eye to eye, always at each others necks, always fighting.” 

“Ain’t that a father daughter thing anyways. Frankie fights with Hank.” Angel struggled to understand. 

“Not like Bishop and I do. Our shits deep rooted. 

Just when Angel was about to ask what that shit was, finally get Lara to really open up, there was a noise. 

“Speaking of Frankie.” Lara shot up and looked out the window to see EZ in Felipe’s truck dropping the drunk girl off. She walked by Angel’s bike without noticing it, Lara prayed EZ didn’t say anything while in the car, it was something that needed to come from Lara. “Go to my closet!” Lara demanded Angel as she jumped in bed and pretended to be asleep. Angel got up, not as quickly as Lara was moving, but fast enough that when Frankie opened Lara’s bedroom door, he was hidden. 

“Hi, I’m home. And drunk. Very drunk” Frankie slurred as she leaned into the door, hand on the door knob and other hand on the frame to keep her balance. 

Lara groaned like she was getting woken up. “Okay, thanks for letting me know. I’ll make you coffee in the morning.” Her words came out groggy. 

“Th–thanks,” she began to close the door and then opened it again, “happy birthday, I love you.” 

Lara closed her eyes, it made her feel shittier for hiding something from her even if she had her reasons for doing so. “I love you too.” Lara said before Frankie closed her door. 

Angel came out from the hanging clothes and back to the bed, trying to push Lara over for him to lay back down. 

“You’ve got 10 minutes and then you gotta go. Frankie’s gonna come in here in the morning and it’ll be better to sneak out now than run our chances in the morning.” Lara explained. 

Angel groaned in complaint as the tiredness fell over him. “You’re gonna have to tell her one day anyways no better day than today.” 

“I’m gonna tell her, just how I want to.” Lara protested back. 

“Alright, alright, 15 minutes.” Angel agreed. 

“8.” Lara corrected him. 

_____

Lara let 15 minutes pass, the house was quiet before she rolled Angel out of bed. He was groggy as Lara pushed him, quietly out of her bedroom door. 

“C’mon, Lara. Just 2 more minutes.” Angel complained as he made it to the hallway. 

“Shh.” She shushed Angel as she pushed against his back down the hallway. 

Angel turned around to face Lara, starting to smile and try and argue his way out of leaving, but as he turned, his head hit the light that he normally ducked to avoid. As he reacted swiftly to steady it but as he did, his back knocked against the pictures on the wall. 

Lara tried her best to cover her laughs, her arms moving to steady Angel over her previous pushing him out stance. One hand was on the light to stop it from swinging while the other was moving to catch the picture frame. Angel turned now fully facing the picture frame and placed it back on it’s hook, he paused for a minute as he looked at the photo. 

“Who is that?” 

Lara’s laughs faded away almost instantly as she stared at the picture. 

“That’s my brother.” Her words were cold as she spoke. 

“I didn’t know you had a brother!” While Angel’s voice was at a whisper, you could hear the excitement coming from his voice. “You had to be like… what? 16? He looks like what 5? Gotta make him like 13 now?” 

“19. I was 19 in that photo. Aiden was 4 in that photo. He’d be 14.” Lara’s voice was still cold. 

“I didn’t realize Bish had a boy, wow.” Angel’s voice was eager as he looked closer at the wall. When Lara didn’t answer he turned towards her, she looked sick to her stomach. “What’s wrong?” His eyebrows frowned. 

“He doesn’t.” Lara kept a straight face. “He doesn’t anymore.” Her eyes moved to Angel’s. He looked even more confused. “He died.” 

Angel’s head snapped, shocked by what she just said. 

“Lara…” Angel’s voice got softer. 

“It’s fine. It was 7 years ago. Well, 8 in two weeks.” She chuckled and shook her head. 

“That’s why you don’t like celebrating your birthday.” Angel nodded as he began to understand. “Is that Bishop and your mom?” He asked looking at the photo above the one of Aiden, the one of you with your birthday cake. 

“Yea, my 5th birthday, just months before she died.” 

Angel’s face dropped, the fact that Lara dated and remembered these photos by when the people in them passed… it had to be heavy. 

“I didn’t realize,” Angel started, and shook his head, “I thought Aiden was…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. But he didn’t have to. 

“Antonia. He was Antonia’s.” Lara nodded, her arms crossed. 

“I’m sorry, Lara.” Angel didn’t know what else to say. 

“You know, I don’t really talk about this. Or him. I mean, to Frankie, sometimes, but not just anybody.” 

It was true, Lara was starting to open up to Angel. 

“So I guess I’m not just anybody?” Angel teased and moved towards Lara with a smile, but before he could reach her his head hit the light again causing Lara to let out a snort. 

“C’mon Smooth Talker,” Lara pushed Angel back down the hallway. 

They reached the front door. Angel opened it and leaned against the door frame. “You know I could stay. Make you breakfast in the morning, coffee…” 

“I’ve had your coffee, it’s not really a selling point.” Lara teased him. “Plus, Frankie, that’s not how I really want her finding out.” 

“Holy shit.” 

Lara and Angel’s attention averted to the living room that had a perfect view of the front door. Frankie stood there, drunk, in shock, and jaw dropped. 

Angel looked between Frankie and Lara before speaking up.

 “Um, I think she knows.”

#Mayans MC #Mayans MC Fanfic #Mayans MC Fanfiction #Mayans FX #Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes Fanfic #Angel Reyes Fanfiction #Angel Reyes x OC #Bishop Losa #Bishop Losa x OC #Bishop Losa's daughter #OC Lara Losa #OC Lara #obispo losa #contaminated #contaminatedfic

[obsessedasusual]

Lonely No More - Six

Bishop Losa xOC Series

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.

Series Warnings: Swearing, mentions/allusions to sex, alcohol

Note: 2.7k - This makes up for the last upload I promise! I LOVED writing this chapter, THINGS ARE EVOLVING PEOPLE!! Oh Also!!! We get another season!! How good!? PPS - I couldn’t tag anyone in this for whatever reason so sorry if you’d asked!😩

It was late by the time Bishop found himself pulling into his driveway. 

‘Apparently not late enough for the Reyes sister to be asleep,’ he thought to himself, recalling a minute earlier when he’d rolled past her house on his routine check in and saw her through the window thanks to the inside lights illuminating the room for all to see, glass of wine in hand, content look on her face.

He was in a bad mood, his body ached and he could feel a headache coming on. After a day, even a week, of everything going wrong from the yard to the club, Bishop just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next two days.

Why did people not listen to him?

He was the fucking President for Christ’s sake.

With a heavy sigh he climbed off his bike, tugged off his helmet and made his way to his front door, stopping abruptly when he saw the gift bag filled with tissue paper waiting for him on his doormat.

He stared at it with furrowed eyebrows. His hesitancy wasn’t exactly misplaced. It wouldn’t be a huge stretch for him to find that the bag contained a severed finger.

Catching sight of a card poking out of the bag he made a slow move to retrieve it.

For your (appallingly) nicknackless home. Consider this your housewarming gift - years in the making!

~ Amalia x

Bishop couldn’t help the small, toothless smile that found its way to his lips while reading the note. He also couldn’t help the way he brushed his thumb over the surprisingly messy handwriting, paying special attention to the little ‘x’ right at the end.

With his curiosity beating out his prior desire to get inside, he knelt down and ruffled through the tissue paper until his hand came into contact with a cold metal.

Careful while pulling it free he let out a breathy chuckle when he saw what it was; a model Harley Davidson, matte black with handle bars that moved and tyres that spun. Complete with a working kickstand to support its weight.

Bishop couldn’t remember the last time he’d received a gift. Actually, that’s not completely true. He’d received a few at his wedding to Antonia, but that hardly counted.

After spending a moment in admiration he stood and placed the model back into the bag, stopping short when he heard the metal knocking against something else. Reaching his hand back into the bag he retrieved a bottle. A bottle of red wine, he realised upon further inspection. A yellow sticky note was stuck to the label.

You seem like a red wine kinda guy.

He wasn’t. Not really. He could enjoy a glass or two sure, but he was a beer guy. He’d never tell her that though. 

Bishop stared at the bottle in his hands, then turned to look down the street. Back to the bottle, back to the street.

He shouldn’t. 

Back to the bottle.

He should go inside and to bed. 

Back to the street.

But she was awake. At least, she was when he’d rode past. 

Back to the bottle.

Would it be weird? Probably.

He looked at his watch… 11:15ish.

Maybe he could just walk over, and if her lights were switched off he could just walk back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly unlocked his front door to place the bag holding his gift inside away from sticky fingers and then made his way off his porch and into the street, bottle of red in hand.

His boots felt decidedly heavier with every step he took. Why was he nervous? He was simply going around to his friend’s place for a drink and a chat. 

Were they friends? They’d spent a number of hours in each other’s presence of late, they’d even shared a meal. Surely they were friends. At least.

At least? 

Bishop could make an educated guess as to why he was a little nervous. Amalia had been occupying his thoughts for a little while now. He found himself looking for her ponytail at every club party. He gravitated towards her whenever she was around. He revelled in the slightest of touches.

Jesus Christ he was too old for this. What is this, high school?

In a lot less time than he’d hoped, Bishop found himself walking along the fence outside her property. The lights were still on.

As he drew closer he could make out her figure in the living room through the lacey day curtains, definitely still awake.

He could turn back now. Go home, shower, maybe have a drink by himself. She’d be none the wiser. 

Staring at the door in front of him he weighed up his options.

Fuck it.

He knocked and waited.

Inside, Amalia startled at the knock.

Who the hell was knocking on doors at this time of night? She stilled for a moment to see if she could hear anything further.

When she was met with silence she slowly rose from the couch to creep to the curtain and peer outside, as discreetly as possible incase… incase of burglars? Burglars wouldn’t knock, right?

She was half expecting one of her brothers, drunk off their ass and needing a place to crash. So she was incredibly surprised to see a lone President on her doorstep. The smile that appeared on her face couldn’t be halted as she moved from the living room to the front door, swinging it open with too much enthusiasm for this time of night.

“Bish!” she beamed. The man in question was admittedly a little taken aback by her happy tone but grinned at her nonetheless, holding up the bottle in his hands as an offering.

“Fancy a glass of red?” he tried. He basked in the way she smiled at him and the bottle in recognition.

“You got my gift! Come in!” She had already had a glass or two herself so was perhaps more ecstatic than usual at her visitor. 

Stepping aside to open the door wider, she watched as Bishop followed her in, toeing his boots off clumsily before shrugging his kutte off.

“I saw you were up when I went past earlier, hope I’m not keeping you, sweetheart.” he was completely ready to be told to come back another day, at a more appropriate time, when he felt a gentle smack to the shoulder as Amalia scowled.

“I’m alone on a Wednesday with no work tomorrow,” she began as she walked toward the kitchen, Bishop following close behind, “you are most welcome to join me.”

Grabbing a wine glass from a high cupboard she poured him a generous helping, “You know, I wasn’t hinting at being the one to drink this when I left it on your doorstep.”

He smirked at her bubbliness, “No one else I’d rather share it with, querida.” 

She turned her head quickly, but not quick enough for Bishop to miss the shy smile that adorned her face.

Handing her visitor the glass she tried her best to fight the heat that threatened her cheeks when their fingers touched, distracting herself by filling her own and turned to cheers him, “To wine!”

“To wine.” He repeated, clinking her glass and taking a long sip. Amalia nodded toward the living room.

“Come on, I’m watching Dirty Dancing.”

An impromptu movie night was not what Bishop had expected when he’d knocked on his infatuation’s door, but he was by no means complaining.

“Patrick Swayze a dream of yours?” He teased as he sat near her on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them.

Her head snapped towards him in excitement, “You know Dirty Dancing?”

Bishop gave her a dumb look, “Sweetheart, do you realise how old this movie is?”

Her eyes squinted in contemplation before she pouted and nodded in understanding, “Suppose you have a point.”

With the film playing in the background Amalia studied Bishop’s side profile, watching the movie, sipping red wine and nibbling on popcorn every now and then. 

As if feeling her gaze on him he turned to meet her eyes, smiling that smile he couldn’t help when he was around her, “What?”

Amalia pursed her lips when she realised she’d been caught and shook her head quickly, “Nothing! It’s just… I never imagined you being someone who could spend the evening doing something so… domesticated.”

His eyebrows raised at her admission and she quickly found herself backtracking, “Not that, you can’t! You’re not like an undomesticated person or anything. It’s just, you know. You’re this badass biker and you’re here. With me,” she paused to take a sip of wine, “it’s nice.”

It was Bishop’s turn to hide his shy smile. It was nice.

“I can be nice.”

She nodded at him, fondly, “I’ve noticed.”

They turned back to the movie for a moment before she decided to continue the conversation, “So… did you find anything else on your doorstep this evening?”

“A card with very messy handwriting.” He deadpanned.

Amalia threw her head back in laughter, “It’s not that bad!”

Bishop chuckled with her, “It’s not great, sweetheart.” He held up his hand as she went to defend herself between laughs, “But I do love my new nicknack. Very fitting. Thank you. You really didn’t have to.” He was as genuine as he had ever been and Amalia was thrilled.

“I know but I wanted to.” She shrugged, smiling at him still. 

After a prolonged, comfortable moment passed between them Amalia spoke up again, “So! How’s club life treating you this week, Mr President.”

He thought about his answer for a moment. It truly had been a week from hell, and it was only half over.

A load of “goods” had been caught at the border due to a bad decision on the club’s part - a bad decision on Angel’s part if he had to get into specifics, but as the leader, Bishop wore it. The cartel wasn’t happy. In fact, the cartel was pissed.

He didn’t want to offload on her though and tell her that he was beyond stressed so he settled with, “It’s been a long week.” and a gentle smile.

Amalia frowned at his answer. She knew she wasn’t privy to all the goings on of the cub, and quite frankly she’d very much like it to stay that way, but she wanted to be a listening ear for Bishop who was obviously going through it.

“You wanna talk about it?” she offered with kind eyes, discarding the now empty bowl of popcorn to the carpet and pulling her legs up on the sofa, hugging them to her chest.

The small, barely there smile he shot her way had her stomach rolling, “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’m a big boy.”

Yes, you are.

The laugh that Bishop barked out had Amalia’s eyes widen like saucers as she realised she’d spoken out loud. Very out loud. Cheeks burning in embarrassment she closed her eyes to regain her composure.

“Glad you think so, sweetheart.” he teased as he reached out to pat her shin lightly, the touch sending more butterflies to her stomach. 

Deciding to play off her slip of words she cleared her throat, “But you’re okay though? I know it can’t be easy. Being in charge and all. You’re sleeping and eating well?” She couldn’t help her caretaker nature.

After her mom passed Amalia was the only one capable of ensuring the wellbeing of her family. It was ridiculous, and a little sexist if she thought too hard about it, but it came naturally to her.

Bishop admired her for a beat. Always so willing to jump in and help wherever she could. Making sure everyone around her was taken care of and comfortable. He hoped she was doing the same for herself.

“I promise I’m okay, querida.” he said with a nod, lying through his teeth. Any sleep he got was minimal and not enough to recharge. As for eating, well… he ate. Probably nothing of decent substance or nutrition but food was food.

She didn’t seem entirely convinced but didn’t want to push the older man so instead she nodded, “Okay. But just so we’re clear you’re welcome here anytime. I’ve always got leftovers. And plenty of food. And I’m a good listener if you ever want to just talk. It helps sometimes.”

God did he want to talk to her. Everyday if he could. The more time he spent around her the more he wondered how he’d made it this far with such little to do with her.

“Thank you, querida,” he nodded, “and I mean that.”

She simply gave him a friendly smile and turned back to the movie, giggling lightly at Baby dancing on the bridge.

The movie passed with little bits of commentary from the pair over another glass of red. Bishop relaxed more into the sofa, insanely comfortable with the warmth of Amalia’s shoulder pressed against his.

When the credits finally rolled on the screen Bishop turned his head to see the Reyes sister yawning into her palm.

“You need to go to bed, sweetheart. You’ll hurt your neck if you fall asleep here.” The concern in his voice had her smiling tiredly in defeat.

“Do you wanna stay here? I have a spare bed.” she offered, almost sad for their time to come to an end. While he considered it, and desperately wanted to say yes, he knew there was no logical reason to do so when he lived two minutes down the road.

Shaking his head he replied, “Thanks sweetheart, but I’ve got an early morning, can’t be waking you up at that hour.”

“I don’t mind.” she rubbed at her tired eyes and Bishop found himself stuck for words, did she want him to stay the night? No. She was just being her usual polite self.

He stood slowly and took her arm to pull her up gently as well, “Not tonight, but thank you.” he repeated.

The multiple glasses of wine plus her tiredness aided her as she went willingly as he tugged her gently out of the living room, flicking the lights off as he went.

“You capable of putting yourself to bed or do I have to tuck you in?” he said good-humouredly.

Amalia’s cheeks burned at the question, “I’m good. Maybe next time.”

Next time.

Bishop stopped at the front door, picking up his previously discarded kutte and turned to face his host, “Go to bed. And thank you for tonight, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

Bishop’s resolve almost completely went out the window when he saw the way she was peering up at him through her eyelashes, “Promise?”

Finding himself lost for words for a second time that evening Bishop simply nodded.

Amalia grinned. And then stepped forward to wrap her arms around Bishop’s middle. 

Frozen in his spot, he felt her sigh against his chest before he slowly wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, holding her to him tightly.

“Goodnight, Bishop.” she mumbled into his shirt.

Tilting his head to press a kiss to her head he replied, “Goodnight, Amalia.”

The use of her real name felt almost foreign in his mouth, but not unwelcome.

She pulled out of his hold slowly, as if she wasn’t ready to give up his warmth and smiled lazily up at him, eyes flicking over his facial features - stopping briefly on his lips - before meeting his eyes again, “Goodnight.”

If he didn’t leave soon he would definitely end up staying, pushing gently at her shoulders to give him space he ran a hand down her arm to grasp her own hand, giving it a warm squeeze in parting, “Night.” he all but whispered.

And then he used all his willpower to actually turn and leave the house, looking back over his shoulder as he went down the path. He grinned when he caught her gaze following his movements and shot her a wink before completely turning to face the street.

Bishop wasn’t in a bad mood anymore.

And maybe he wasn't alone in his infatuation.

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

[jeyusos-girl]

Tell Them

pairing: Bishop x OC

summary: Bishop’s younger girlfriend shows up at the clubhouse, but the guys don’t know about her.

a/n: i wrote this while at work and i still managed to get my shit done 😝😝 im happy with how this came out

warnings: none

word count: 1184

                                   ..................................................

Samantha stood in front of her mirror, applying her mascara. She put the wand back in the tube and set it down. She fluffed her curls and smirked to herself. 

“He is going to freak out,” she giggled, fixing her shirt.

She woke up in bed alone today, Bishop had left early in the morning for club business. This was the 5th day this week that happened and she was getting fed up. As she was eating her breakfast an idea came to mind, she was going to pay him a visit today. The catch? None of the guys knew she existed. 

When she and Bishop started dating six and a half months ago, he told her about the club, but he didn't go into detail until about the third month. From then on she’d been begging him to bring her to the clubhouse to meet the rest of the guys. He always shut her down, saying something about him keeping her safe.

In the back of her mind, she knew that his reasoning was only half the truth. After all, she was younger than him and she knew he would always be a little insecure about that. She’s told him countless times that age didn’t mean anything to her and that she loves him no matter what. But still, he always gave her a sweet kiss and assured her she’d meet the guys soon. Of course, soon never came. Until now that is. 

She made her way to her car and hopped in, driving the short distance to the clubhouse. During her drive, she began having doubts, wondering if now was the right time. She was nervous that she wouldn’t be welcome, that they’d see her as an outsider. She was contemplating turning around and going back home but a little voice in her head told her it was now or never.

“Come on, Samantha, you got this, ” she took a deep breath as the clubhouse came into view. The front gates were open, so she drove through and parked next to a row of bikes. She flipped the overhead mirror down and fluffed her hair once more. 

”Alright girl, you can do it. They're gonna love you,”

She got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. The noise caught the attention of three men outside who were working on fixing bikes. She looked around the yard, hoping to find Bishop. The men huddled together and pointed at her and soon one of them stood up and made his way over. He was tall with dark hair, tattoos covering his arms. He wore a red flannel under his kutte. As he came into her view she could see the slight smirk on his face.

“Hey mami, you lost?” he spoke.

“Uh no, I’m actually looking for someone,” Samantha replied.

“Well whoever he is, I’m sure he wouldn’t be anywhere near here. But forget him, how about me and you get to know each other,” he moved closer to her, and she raised her brows at him. Before she could shut him down, the doors to the clubhouse opened revealing three more men, an older man with long hair, a tall buff man with short black hair, and Bishop. She smiled as she saw him laughing with the other two. That smile turned to a smirk when he made eye contact with her and froze in surprise. 

“You good, ‘mano?” the older man with long hair asked. Bishop cleared his throat, giving him a nervous laugh,

“Yeah, I’m good,” and with that, he made his way down the steps and toward Samantha who’s smile never went away. He got closer to her and gently pulled her aside, aware of the eyes and ears on them. 

“Querida, what are you doing here?” he whispered, laughing nervously.

“Well,” she started, putting on an act of innocence, “I woke up today alone, for the 5th day in a row by the way, and I missed my man. So I figured I’d pay you a visit, surely you don’t mind… right?” she smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. Bishop gaped at her,

“No uh.. of course not but I thought we agreed I would bring you around the club when the time was right,” 

“Well, I decided the right time is now,” Samantha tilted her head at him and raised a brow, “It’s been almost 7 months Obispo, I’m tired of being your little secret. God forbid something happens on a run and you get hurt, how will I know? They can’t call me and tell me if they don’t know I exist,”

Bishop sighed, “You’re right, I’m sorry mama. I just wanna keep you away from all this shit, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt,” 

Samantha could see the hurt in his eyes.

“Baby, I’ve never felt safer than I have these past six and a half months,” 

Bishop gave her a small smile and as he went to speak, a voice sounded off in the background,

“Yo, Bish, you know her?” the guy from earlier questioned. Bishop turned to face him.

“Tell them,” she smirked. Bishop looked at her, shaking his head with a big smile.

“Yeah. Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Samantha,”

It got quiet as their mouths dropped slightly, Samantha held back a giggle as she came up next to Bishop and wrapped her arm around his torso. 

“Hello everyone,” Samantha grinned. 

“Welcome, Samantha.” the long-haired man smiled. One by one the guys came up to her and introduced themselves and she felt Bishop relax. 

“Damn, Bish, where have you been hiding her?” the man, who she’d learned was named Angel, asked. Bishop glared at him, causing Angel to raise his hands in surrender. 

“Aye, how about we welcome Samantha the right way?” Coco spoke. The guys all agreed and headed into the clubhouse. Bishop looked down at Samantha who was already looking up at him.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman,” he shook his head as she giggled. He gave her a sweet kiss and led her inside.

Once inside, she met Creeper, Riz, and Ez. They all sat around each other while Ez served them drinks and they were engaging in friendly conversation. Samantha sat in Bishop’s lap laughing as she told them the story of how they met. She took a sip of her beer when Gilly spoke up, 

“How come you hid her from us for so long?”

“I wanted her all to myself,” he shrugged and winked at Samantha who rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Well she’s a part of this family now,” Tranq raised his beer, “a toast to Samantha and Bishop!”

The guys cheered and raised their glasses. Samantha shook her head as she did the same.

Soon the guys went back to telling stories and Bishop looked up at Samantha. She took another sip of her beer before she caught his eye.

“What?” she grinned.

“I love you, querida,” 

Samantha leaned down, catching his lips in hers. They pulled away and stared into each other’s eyes before Samantha snuggled into his neck. 

                                    ........................................................

@peaches007

@ifoundmyhappythought

@imanerdychubbyqueen

@ly--canthrope

@noz4a2

@thewarriorprincessxo

@calif0rnia-lovers

#mayans imagine #mayans fx #mayans mc #mayans x reader #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc x reader #mayans #bishop losa #bishop losa x oc #bishop losa x reader #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #bishop losa imagine

[broiderie]

Lost Princessa: Meet the Reaper 18

Phew... this one is a doozy. I typed too much at once. Guess you'll just get to see a little more than planned in this chapter. Oops... not really. Enjoy!

Warnings: cussing, talk of gun running, talk of weapons, talk of illegal transport of goods, some mild make-out session... Let me know if I missed anything. I'm too tired to think about what I typed lol.

After a quick pit stop to buy burritos from Mama’s favorite food truck, they pulled in to the driveway at her house. She was waiting for them on the front porch swing.

Hank got out and came to let Megan out too, taking the paper bag of food from her. Then he sat her seat forward to let Rex out. Megan had put his new harness and leash on him before they left the house, and she led him up the steps to meet Mama.

“Hi Mama,” Megan greeted with a smile. “Meet Rex.” She knelt to introduce Mama to the big dog who watched her with a doggy grin.

“Oh Cariño, you look so much happier. I’m glad the trip was good for you.” The older woman smiled and offered her hand to the big dog. “And this fine boy- Rex did you say? He’s beautiful, mija.”

Rex sniffed Mama’s hand politely, but his cropped tail never stopped wagging so hard his hind end moved.

“And so polite! Where’d he come from?” Mama stepped up to hug Megan.

A friend of Hank’s up north rescued him. He thought he’d suit me and he was right.” Megan giggled and accepted the hug

Hank came up the stairs shaking his head and laughing. “No welcome home for your own son, Mama? I even brought food.”

“Oh- you! Don’t tease your Mama!” She kissed his cheek when he bent to offer it.

Hank smiled and kissed her hair. “Te amo, Mama. I’m just joking.”

“Let’s go inside to eat,” Mama suggested. “I made some lemonade and tea. We can introduce your big baby to Chi-Chi.”

Inside, Megan warily introduced Rex to Chi-Chi. She wasn’t sure how he’d do with the small dog. She shouldn’t have been worried. Rex was terrified of the chihuahua. He hid behind Megan’s legs until Chi-Chi laid down. 

After they caught up over lunch, Mama smiled. “I’m so glad you’re better out of that cast, Cariño. And your color is better too. Are you staying ahead of the pain with your medicine?

“Yes, ma’am. Hank makes sure of it.” Megan smiled at Hank who was sitting back in his chair just listening with a grin as the two most important people in his life chatted.

“Good. Now - I know you didn’t want a big deal for your birthday. I also know that Che and Hank didn’t exactly go along with that idea.” Mama winked at Hank. “But I have something for you too.”

“You didn’t have to do that Mama…” Megan started.

“Maybe not, but I did.” She reached behind her and retrieved a leather bound book. She handed it to Megan with a smile. “Feliz Cumpleaños, hija.”

Megan took the book carefully and opened it. It was very old. It was a recipe book. A handwritten one. Megan ran gentle fingers over the pages. “Is this…”

“My copy of the family recipe book. You love learning to cook new things - and you’ve shared recipes with me. Now it’s my turn.” Mama smiled gently at her and patted her hand. “Besides - there are tricks in there. Ones that will help you as you learn your culture from the ground up.” Mama flipped to the back to show her blank pages. “And this is where you add your own.”

Megan’s eyes teared as she saw where Mama had penned her name at the top of the page. “Are you sure?” she sniffed.

“Very. And that ring on your finger says my Hank is sure too.” Mama stood to kiss Megan on the forehead. “Eres familia. Always.”

Megan leaned into the affection from the older woman and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Mama.”

“De nada.”

Hank smiled gratefully at his mother as she cuddled the love of his life. He petted Rex and let them have their moment.

Soon, Mama patted Megan’s hair and went to take her seat again. “Now - what did Hank get you, Hija? It better have been good.”

Megan giggled and wiped her eyes before she began listing things she’d received as gifts. Mama admired her earrings and her charm bracelet.

“St. Agnes was also my patron saint as a young woman,” Mama explained. “I have her story somewhere around here. I’ll find it for you. I think I still have a rosary and some jewelry too…”

Hank’s phone buzzed and he checked it. “Alright, mi reina. That was your papa. Your guests should begin arriving in the next half-hour or so. We should get to the clubhouse.”

“Yes. Don’t be late for your own party, Cariño. I’ll see you in a few days.” Mama kissed her cheek. “Go. Have fun.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Megan stood and Rex came to heel. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Te amo, Cariño.” Mama kissed Hank as well. “Te amo, hijo. Take care of her.”

“I will, Mama. Te amo. Call if you need us.”

Megan carefully placed her recipe book in the glove box to keep it clean.

“Are you happy, mi amore?” Hank asked as he helped to buckle her seatbelt.

Megan smiled brilliantly at him. “Very. I got a Mom for my birthday.”

Hank chuckled. “I don’t know how I’ll top that next year.”

Megan kissed him softly. “Me either.”

They pulled up to the clubhouse and found Taza waiting for them outside. They could see a lot of movement through the windows, but other than that, the yard was very quiet.

Megan left Rex’s harness on and stuck his leash in her thigh bag before they got out.

“Ah. There you are, Chica. The Reaper should be here any minute with Oakland right behind them,” Taza said as he opened her car door. “Did you enjoy your visit with Mama?”

Megan hugged him tightly. “It was great. She gave me the Loza family recipe book.”

Taza eyebrows hit his hairline and he looked to Hank with a grin. “Really now. That is great.” He kissed her forehead. Rex bounded up to greet Taza too, so Taza scratched his ears for him.

“So - is the plan the same as it was last night? Templo and then party?” Megan asked him.

“Yeah. The same. There will be so many people there for Templo that it’ll probably be senior officers only at the table.” Taza explained, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her towards the stairs.

“Oh. Guess I’ll stand with Coco or Creeper,” Megan said with a little shrug.

Hank chuckled. “You are a senior officer, Princessa. Especially when it comes to the guns. They’re going to be YOUR specialty.”

Megan paused and looked to her father. “Really?”

Inside was swarming with activity as finishing touches were put on the food and decor. Vickie paused on the way through to the bar to tell Megan happy birthday. Gilly was holding the ladder for Coco who was hanging what looked like a giant banner. EZ was stocking the reserve coolers behind the bar and Angel - well he seemed to be flirting hard with a pretty blonde who was wearing way less than the weather called for.

“Really, Chica. Santo Padre Armorer. That puts you at the table.” He paused and opened the door to the clubhouse.

“Where are the tíos?” Megan asked Taza as Rex went to investigate his new dog bed in the corner.

“Templo. I think they’re hiding so Vickie doesn’t make them clean something.”

Megan giggled at the thought. “Alright. I’m going to go say hello.” She kissed Taza’s cheek and then gave Hank a kiss as well before turning to go to the sliding glass door. She knocked as was granted entry - sliding the door closed behind her.

Taza smirked at Hank. “So the family recipe book already?”

Hank smiled and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yep. She didn’t even scold me over Megan’s ring.”

Taza laughed. “Why would she? It’s a promise ring, not an engagement ring.”

Hank chuckled. “Same thing to Mama. Though I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say if I don’t replace it with something larger eventually.” He shrugged a little. “What can I say, Taza? Mama knows when my mind’s made up.”

That made Taza nod and smile. “Good. She needs that stability. Just don’t fuck it up and make me shoot you, Hermano.”

“I won’t.”

There was a rumble of bikers in the distance that made everyone pause. The temple door slid open, and BIshop walked out with an arm around Megan’s shoulders followed by Marcus. Megan was much more relaxed on her home turf. 

They all headed outside to greet their visitors. Megan slipped over to stand between Hank and Taza as the gate opened.

Five bikes rolled through the gate that was manned by Creeper at the moment. None of the bikes had the signature look of Mayan bikes. They were all Dynas and one of them carried double. The Reaper had landed.

The dust cleared as the riders dismounted and started stripping off helmets and riding gloves. Megan recognized Chibs, Tig, Venus and the big guy that they called Quinn, but the other two riders were only vague memories. She hadn’t actually met them, but she’d seen them at the lodge. One of them had a prospect patch. The other, she thought, was T.O. He was the only black man she knew of who wore the reaper patch. 

The Samcro delegation came forward to greet everyone. Marcus - as ranking member greeted Chibs first. By the time the greetings got to Megan, she’d already accepted a big hug from Venus.

“There’s tha’ lass! How’s ya arm?” Chibs asked, hugging Megan gently.

“Better now that the cast is off. It was causing most of my issues.” Megan said as she hugged the tall Scotsman back. “Still in the soft cast and sling, but not for as long as before.”

“Good ta hear. And… what’s this?” He took Megan’s good hand and spun her slowly so he could see her kutte. “Bylaws changed?”

Bishop laughed. “Nah. Loophole.”

Marcus nodded. “She’s a non-voting officer for the SanPad charter.”

Tig whistled, impressed. “Armorer, huh? Can you handle a weapon, Little Bit? More than your pistol, I mean.”

Megan grinned a little wolfishly. “More than you’ll ever find out.”

“At least you better hope so,” Taza said with a chuckle.

The thunder of more bikes interrupted their conversation. Bikes poured in through the gate, followed by Diana’s Escalade, and then a few more bikes.

Marcus chuckled. “Gentlemen, Poquito, Venus - excuse me. Mi Reina and mi princessa have arrived.” He patted Tig’s shoulder and started towards the large car, only to have the back door fly open. Two steps later, he grunted as a small purple blur collided with him chattering a mile a minute. Megan giggled as Diana got out at a much more sedate pace.

Marco and José went to greet their brothers.

After all parties had refreshment and Tessa had a chance to talk to her prima and tíos, Marcus nodded at Bishop. Even though Marcus technically out ranked Bishop - they were on Santo Padre turf, so Bishop would lead this odd version of Grand Templo.

A shrill whistle cut through the air, and all the members of all three charters filed into the temple. A second chair was at the head of the table and similar on was at the foot. Marcus and Bishop took their positions and Chibs took his place at the foot of the table. The current president of the Oakland Charted and his officers - as well as Marcus and José took seats on the side of the table where Marcus sat. Taza took his place beside Bishop, then turned to smile at Megan. There were curious whispers throughout the room when they realized Megan was in the temple. Hank ignored them and escorted her to the chair next to her father before taking his own between her and Riz. Everyone settled quickly when the gavel fell, and all eyes turned to Bishop.

“Alright. Now that we’re all here, let’s get started. There’s one hell of a party waiting on us out there.” Bishop sat forward with a grin. “Now, some of you have noticed the addition to our table. La Princessa de los Mayas has taken her place as a non-voting officer of the Mayans Motorcycle Club, Santo Padre Charter. Megan will be our Armorer and be responsible for all weaponry that passes through SanPad. She’ll work closely with the officers to assure inventory is kept.”

He paused to glance around the table. “Megan has unique training in multiple weapons and their maintenance. Training we’re going to need as we take on the True IRA contracts.”

Chibs looked to Tig and grinned before he returned his gaze to Bishop. “Found a port, have ya?”

Bishop nodded. “We have. At least if the vote tonight goes the way we hope.” He chuckled again and gestured to Megan. “Alright, Poquito. It’s your action. Bring it to the table.”

Megan swallowed hard, but nodded as she adjusted in her chair to hide her shaking hand. Hank laid a gentle hand on her knee under the table in support. “Santo Padre recently had a meeting with the head of the Galindo cartel. Long story short - to combat the DEA, he has found himself in alliance with Los Olvidados.”

One of the Oakland Mayans standing against the wall interrupted - “But isn’t the LO who you’ve been hunting for months? The same people who took his kid?”

Megan nodded. “Exactly. They decided they needed a third party to mediate and keep everyone honest. That third party is us. It comes with many advantages. One of which was an introduction to Adelita, herself.” She paused to take a sip of water. “At that meeting it occurred to us that an alliance on our own with Adelita comes with even more advantages. Los Olvidados is a vast organization. They control large amounts of government officials on the other side of the border. They are also two thousand soldiers who are used to storing and protecting supplies and weapons at all times.”

Bishop grinned. “And an alliance with the LO protects the M.C. from even more issues when we have to cross over.”

There were nods around the table.

Megan took a deep breath. “So - we met with Adelita - alone, away from Galind. She has agreed to supply the port of entry for the Irish guns, assemble them, and store them on their side of the border. The M.C. handles the buyer and transports. And - she agreed to do it for the twenty percent we had already factored in for the Vatos in the original deal as well as first option to buy when they have a large operation in the works.” Megan smiled and looked around the table.

“At how steep of a discount?” asked the Oakland President.

Marcus chuckled. “That’s the best part… at full price.”

There were surprised mumbles around the table. Men talked quietly among themselves until Bishop sat forward again. “So - any questions?”

“What’s to stop the LO from just taking what they want?” one of the Oakland members asked.

Chibs answered. “Same thing that stopped us - havin’ a club member at tha’ exchange to inventory at the drop to the LO. This does solve things nicely, I will admit. Do we know what port?”

Megan shook her head. “Not yet. We will by the end of the week…”

“If we vote it tonight,” Riz added. “The longer we seesaw - the more likely they are to decide we aren’t worth it.”

Marcus cleared his throat. “It’s a good plan. Solid. It gives us the gun deal with the True IRA and fulfills Jax Teller’s final wishes. It puts Mayans M.C. at the forefront of the two biggest money making trades in the M.C. world. I say we vote it. Now.”

“Seconded,” said the Oakland VP.

“Third,” came from Riz.

“Alright. Every man votes. Oakland or Santo Padre. Do we take on the True IRA gun deal with Los Olvidados as our ally?” Bishop said, looking around the room. “All in favor…” 

Hands went up. Some were slower than others, but they went up. Bishop looked around. He couldn’t see any man with his hand still down. 

“All opposed?” he asked. Again he scanned the room. He didn’t see any hands. That was really to be expected. Every Mayan had known and planned for the day SoA would hand over the gun trade. Bishop looked to Marcus.

“Unanimous decision. Vote carries,” Marcus stated. Bishop banged the gavel and Megan slumped in relief. Cheers and whoops broke out throughout the temple. 

“Good. Now - let’s party!” Bishop stood with a grin.

The celebrating Mayans scattered out the door to claim fresh beers or food leaving only Taza, Bishop, Marcus, and Hank at the table along with Megan. Megan laid her head down on the table and focused on her breathing for a moment.

“Beautiful work, Chica. Beautifully done. A unanimous vote from two charters on your first club action!” Taza laughed gently, patting her back. “Proud of you.”

Hank rubbed her leg under the table letting her calm down.

Marcus and Bishop just laughed with Taza.

Megan finally lifted her head from the table to meet the eyes of the four men who loved her more than life itself. “I really did that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Poquito. You really did. And I’m just as proud of you now as when you took on Adelita yourself in that meeting,” Bishop assured her.

“Me too, Poquito. You really are proving just how much you love this club,” Marcus said.

The three elder men each stood. “We’re going to go make sure they don’t bring the clubhouse down on top of us. You - take your time. Decompress. Then come join the party,” Bishop said smiling. He dropped a kiss to Megan’s hair. “Proud of you, Poquito.”

Marcus followed his example with a kiss to her forehead. “You deserve that kutte, Bebita. Now come show it off.”

Taza pressed his own kiss to Megan’s temple. “Whenever you’re ready, Chica. See you in a minute.”

They left the room and slid the sliding, stained glass door closed, cutting out some of the noise in the process. Megan breathed a sigh of relief. 

Hank chuckled. “They’re right, you know. You were perfect.” He lifted her hand to kiss her ring.

Megan shrugged. “Maybe, but if it all falls apart, they don’t need to look far for who to blame either.”

Hank tugged ehr to her feet as he scooted back from the table. He guided her to stand between his knees so he was looking up into her face. “Mi princessa - if it falls apart, it won’t be for anything you did.” He slipped his hands down to rest on her hips and smiled. “I love you.”

That made her smile. “I love you too.” She leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. 

He kissed her back with a chuckle. “Mm. We should probably get out there soon.”

“Yeah. But I think the only ones waiting on us are probably Tessa and maybe Venus.”

Hank laughed again and pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling back. “Maybe so - but if we don’t get out there soon, I might forget that I’m supposed to share you tonight.” He grinned up at her. “You have no idea how sexy it was watching all my brothers realize why you are la princessa.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I’m le princessa because Taza’s my dad and because of who my tíos are. I had nothing to do with it.”

Hank squeezed her waist gently. “Bullshit. You are A princessa because of your papa and tíos. You are THE princessa because you make this club better. Because you see what we don’t. And because you can use your brain and hold a room full of bikers in awe of you, mi amore.” He nudged her chin with his nose. “Straighten that crown, Princessa and own it. You just saved a lot of lives today. You deserve to be la Princessa de los Mayas.”

She smiled a little. “We’ll see.”

He shook his head. “Alright. You ready?”

“I’d be much more comfortable behind the bar. I’ve never really been to a party before…”

Hank chuckled. “You’ll be alright. He stood and took her hand in his. “Let’s go.”

Out in the bar, Megan laughed as she realized that Tessa had been waiting patiently for her to exit the temple. The little girl immediately attached to Megan’s side. “You okay, Prima?” she asked.

“I’m alright. Just nervous about my first party,” Megan explained to her. “I’m glad you like your jacket though.”

Tessa did a little spin to show off the purple leather jacket Megan had chosen for her on her birthday shopping spree. “I love it!” She showed Megan her little purple Doc Martens. “And Papa bought me boots to match!”

Hank laughed. “Now your prima needs to have matching Docs, huh?”

Tessa squealed and clapped. “Yes! They have SPARKLE ones too! Papa said I could have them if I scored an A on my science test and I know I aced it. Maybe he’ll buy us both a pair!” 

Megan laughed at the excited little girl. “I’m not sure sparkle docs will stay very sparkly if I wear them on the bike, Tessa.”

Tessa paused in thought, “So… don’t wear them on the bike…” she stated with a shrug.

Venus overheard her and laughed. “The little princess is right, honey. Some shoes are just for show.” She winked at Tessa. “And I agree with your little cousin - sparkle docs sound perfect for you.”

Tessa nodded decisively. “I’m gonna ask Papa. Be right back!” She scurried off.

“Wait!” Megan tried, but Tessa was already across the room. She groaned and narrowed her eyes at the innocently smiling Venus. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Venus put on her shocked face and pressed a hand to her chest as if offended. “Bless your heart - I never!”

Hank grinned and sipped his beer with an arm around Megan’s waist. He’d just taken a drink when Megan rolled her eyes again at Venus. “You know - I recognize a Southern ‘fuck you’ when I hear it, right?” she said.

“That’s what makes it so much fun,” Venus said with a wicked grin.

Hank snorted in laughter and choked on his beer.

Tig wandered up with a grin. “Are you ladies trying to choke Hank to death or is that just a kinky thing?”

Hank sputtered and coughed until his airway was clear enough to laugh.

Megan giggled and Venus grinned. “Now Alexander - we would never…”

EZ wandered by with a coke for Megan, which she gladly accepted. Tig noticed. “Little Bit, you okay or just pacing yourself?” he asked, indicating her bottle.

Megan sipped and nodded. “I’m fine. Just not a big drinker.”

Hank guided her back so she could lean against him.

“Fair enough.” Tig smiled.

Megan mingled with Hank, smiling her company smile and accepting happy birthday wishes until Creeper came to her side. Rex had stuck to her like glue and was currently sitting across her feet accepting idle ear scratches, but he perked up as the bald biker approached. “Hey Little Princess, you eaten yet?”

Megan shook her head lightly. “Nah. Been busy being hostess.”

Creeper scoffed. “Girl. You’re supposed to be enjoying your party - not playing nothin’.”

“I’m alright, Creep. I promise,” Megan said quietly, but the strain around her eyes was visible.

Creeper nudged Hank, who had been in a conversation with Marco. “You better get your girl, man. She ain’t eat yet.”

Hank glanced at his watch. “Shit. And she’s over an hour past due for her pain meds,” He looked at Megan. “Mi Reina, I’m sorry. You’ve got to be hurtin’.”

Megan smiled up at him a little shakily. “I’m okay.”

“Brother…” Creeper warned.

“Yeah, I hear her.” Hank said. He excused them from the group they’d been with for a while and led her to a couch in the corner with Creeper following. Hank guided Megan to sit and slid a pillow under her arm. “Now, I know you’re hurting, mi amore. I wish you had said something.” He handed her two pills which she obediently swallowed. “Now - do you want me to make you plate while Creep stays with you or do you want him to do it?”

Megan sighed. “I promise, I’m okay. We can go back to the party.”

Creeper nodded. “Alright. I’ll go get her a plate.” He slipped off, stopping to have a word with Taza on the way by.

Taza turned so that Megan was in his sight as he talked, just in case she needed him, but kept his distance. He didn’t want anyone to see her as weak because he babied her.

Hank squatted in front of Megan and slid one of his hands up to cup the side of her neck gently, guiding her chin up to make her look at him as Rex laid himself across her feet holding her down. “Princessa, you’re shaking and your breath is hitching like before you have a panic attack. What is it?”

Megan leaned into his hand a little and closed her eyes. “We should get back. That’s all.”

Hank leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “Do you want to go home? If you’re unhappy, we don’t have to stay.”

Megan gave a watery chuckle. “Leave my own birthday party? No. I’m okay.”

“You need to eat, mi amore. Creeper will bring you a plate. We can eat it here, or we can go outside to the picnic table if you’d rather.” He kissed her gently. “Either way.”

“But - I haven’t talked to everyone. I haven’t been a good hostess. I need to be…”

“You need to be sitting your ass down and letting them come to you like the princessa you are, Poquito,” Bishop said, coming up behind Hank. “They come to you. You aren’t the bartender here tonight.” He sat in the armchair nearest her.

“But-”

“No fucking ‘but’.” He lit a cigarette.

Creeper showed up with two plates loaded with food. “Here, Little Princessa. Eat somethin’ Then decide how you wanna spend the rest of your night.” He sat them on the coffee table as Hank moved to sit next to her and pull it closer to her.

Megan hesitantly reached for the fork he’d laid next to the plate. Hank pressed a kiss to her temple. “That’s my girl,” he muttered as she started to nibble.

Bishop stayed planted and people filtered through to talk to him and to those around him as a consequence. Soon, Megan realized her tío was right. If she stayed put, people came to her.

Tessa flitted back and forth from their group and wherever her papa and mama were. Letty came and sat awhile, but she eventually got up to go dance with a few of the younger girls from Vickie’s.

About an hour later, Taza walked over smiling. “Are you ready for cake, Chica?”

Megan smiled up at him, more relaxed. “I guess so.”

“Good. Your tía wants to take Tessa home and put her to bed, but the little demon refuses to leave until after cake,” Taza laughed. 

That made Megan giggle. “Should have just cut it, Papa. She’ll be even worse after sugar.”

“Can’t cut the birthday cake without the birthday girl, Sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll get them to bring it over here. After cake - I think you have a few more gifts to unwrap.”

“But I already opened my gifts!” Megan protested as Taza walked away.

Hank chuckled. “That was before you made your birthday a diplomatic event, mi amore.”

Bishop grinned. “More gifts, Poquito, from new friends.” He sipped his whiskey with a chuckle.

Taza returned to perch on the arm for the couch next to her as Creeper carried the cake towards her with candles lit. A toy motorcycle stood in the center. Megan giggled as she saw the Mayans patch and rocker decorating the icing. Tessa started singing happy birthday and Vickie’s girls picked it up. Before the end of the song, Megan’s face felt like it was on fire.

Marcus smiled at her from the crowd with one arm around Diana and one around Tessa. “Blow out your candles, Poquito. Make a wish.”

Megan smiled and leaned forward before blowing out the candles to the applause of those watching. Taza pressed a kiss to her hair as Hank gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

Vickie took the cake from Creeper so that the girls and EZ could serve it. 

“Well, now that the cake is being cut - Present time!” Venus announced. She bustled forward with a large box wrapped in blue paper. “Here, sweetheart. This one’s from me,” she said with a wink.

Megan laughed and took the box. “Thank you.” She opened it with a smile to find something that she didn’t expect from the first lady of Samcro. Inside were two pairs of cowboy boots, a brown pair and a black pair, along with an off white wool cowboy hat. Megan’s jaw dropped. “Venus - “

The dark haired woman smiled softly. “That night at the party, you mentioned that you rode in rodeos. I looked you up. Then I realized that you would have had to leave all your gear behind…”

Megan stood quickly to wrap her in a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

Venus sniffed a little and smoothed Megan’s hair. “Southern Belles stick together.”

That made Megan giggle and pull back. She went back to her spot on the couch with a little smile before putting on the hat. Hank beamed and straightened it for her.

“Alright. Now that the missus has given her gift -” Tig presented Megan with a small, but heavy box. “In light of your new position, I probably should have gone bigger.”

Megan unwrapped it to find a handgun cleaning kit with a built in field kit to go in her saddle bags. “Thank you!”

Tig chuckled. “You impressed the hell out of me at that meeting, Little Bit. Never seen a chick - well a youngster anyway - so prepared to defend yourself. Thought I’d help you do that.” He shrugged awkwardly. “And Venus wouldn’t let me buy you another gun.”

Venus huffed out a “I swear, Alexander…” as Megan giggled.

Chibs smiled a little. “Aye. My turn.” He sat down his whiskey and smiled. “‘Ve got two. One frum me - and one frum Samcro.” He laid a small box on the table - about as long as his hand. Then, he waved T.O. forward. T.O. also laid a box down - this one much larger.

Megan opened the larger box, which was from Samcro, to find a custom stitched seat for her bike. The beautiful stitching in the black leather picked out the design of a crown. “Oh! It’s beautiful. Thank you!”

T.O. grinned. “It’ll fit. We called your uncle to make sure of it.”

“Thank you. And thank your club for me.”

Chibs smirked. “Little un is frum me.”

Megan opened the box to find knives. Three of them. They were made to be worn on the inside of her belt or inside her kutte the way Chibs wore his. He’d provided sheaths for them as well. The short blades were made for street fighting and the green composite handles fit in her smaller hands nicely. “Oh they’re beautiful. I love them! Thank you.”

“Aye. MY Kerrianne overnighted them to me from the same shop in Ireland where I got mine after I met you at the party. They’ll serve you well, lass.” He smiled as Megan immediately tucked on into one of the straps of her thigh bag which held it perfectly. “Your tío can find you someone to teach you to use ‘em. I’d do it, but ‘m too far away.”

Megan stood and hugged the gruff biker. “Thank you.” 

He patted her back awkwardly. “Welcome, lass.”

She sniffed a little and smiled as she sat back down. Hank grinned as she turned to show him her new blades. He examined them carefully and then showed her how to fasten them inside her kutte to conceal them.

Marcus offered Chibs a handshake. “Beautiful blades, my friend. I’ll find her a teacher when she’s ready.” 

Chibs chuckled. “Got a boot knife back ordered fur ‘er too. Should be here by ‘er big party.”

Coco was passing by and snorted a laugh. “La princessa’s gunna be armed to the teeth.”

Marcus laughed. “All the better.” He waved the president of the Oakland charter forward to present the gift from the other charter.

A leather binder with the Mayans patch embossed on the cover was laid on the table in front of her. Megan ran her fingers over the cover before glancing up at the Oakland officers. At their smiles, she flipped it open to find a copy of the charter and bylaws of the Mayans Motorcycle Club. “Oh! Is this…” 

“A copy for you to keep and study as la Princessa de los Mayas, Princessa. All the bylaws, from every charter. All the history of this club.”

Megan’s smile was blinding. “For me?”

“For you, Princessa. Happy Birthday.” He smiled and gave a little bow before going back to the party.

Megan ran her fingers over the binder again and smiled before looking up to meet the eyes of both Marcus and Bishop.

Marcus smiled. “Now you’ll get to read our story, Poquito. The history of tu familia.”

“Thank you.”

Diana came over after a few minutes to say goodnight. She was taking Tessa home to bed. Apparently, the energetic little girl had finally run out of steam. Marco had found her nodding off at one of the table and was carrying her to the car after bringing her to Marcus for a goodnight cuddle. The Queen of the Mayans pressed a gentle kiss to Megan’s forehead. “Sleep well, Princessa. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Things got a little wilder as it got later, but not much. A few guys got in the ring for fun and Bishop went to watch. Soon, Megan and Hank were left mostly on their own in that little corner of the clubhouse. Even Rex was asleep in his dog bed nearby. Megan was curled into Hank’s side, resting comfortably.

Hank smiled down at her. “Have you enjoyed your birthday party, mi amore?”

Megan tilted her face up towards him. “I actually have. At least once we moved over here.”

He shifted so he could reach to kiss her. “Good. We just need to remember to put you in a corner. I’ll try to remember, mi reina.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Sorry I freaked out,” she whispered.

Hank shifted her carefully to his lap before guiding her to straddle him. “Mi princessa, you absolutely did not freak out. You were so anxious you were shaking, but you kept going. You didn’t freese. You kept your panic in your control. You were so brave and so  strong. You amaze me, Megan.” He cupped her face in both hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “No apologies, mi amore.”

Megan smiled and nodded a little. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He grinned and kissed her again.

Megan kissed him back and shifted closer to his body. His hands rubbed gently down her back until they came to her hips. He slid them under her tunic so he could feel her skin. Megan wrapped the fingers of her good hand in his shirt to pull herself closer, pressing her hips into him. 

Hank groaned and broke the kiss, dropping his head to rest on her good shoulder. “Not fair, mi reina. You know what the doctor said.” He pressed kisses to the skin of her throat and chest where he could reach.

Megan whined until Hank lifted his head to kiss her again. “I’m sorry, mi reina. No strenuous activities of you could end up back in a cast. A week, mi amore. At least a week.”

Megan collapsed against his chest growling and frustrated. Hank kissed her hair. “Please, Hank?”

He closed his eyes and winced. “I don’t want to hurt you, Megan. Please…”

She sighed. “I know.” She lifted her head to kiss him softly. “I’m sorry. I know.”

Hank smiled softly and returned her kiss. “Just… be patient a little longer, mi reina.” 

Megan nodded and cuddled close. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” He kissed her again.

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@xeniarocks

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@lyly00

@camelia35

@anaeve

#lost princessa #lost princessa sequel #meet the reaper #che taza romero #mayans mc #taza x daughter!oc #mayans mc fanfic #megan(oc) x hank #hank loza #bishop losa #obispo losa #marcus alvarez #neron creeper vargas #creeper vargas #michael ariza #ez reyes #mayans #mayans fanfic #mayansmc #mayans mc fanfiction

[moonsofthesilversea]

#bishop losa #bishop losa x oc #bishop x reader #mayans mc #bishop losa x reader #obispo x reader

[minimel-fics]

Mayans M.C Masterlist

Find my multi-fandom blog here.

Reyes Brothers

Nowhere to Go, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8- Angel had hurt you before so what was causing you a little more pain now to avoid a future of hurt? 

Obispo “Bishop” Losa

I Want You (18+)- You aren’t his to have but he sure wants you, you keep your thoughts about him buried until you go to bed at night.

Broken Bells- Annabelle’s life has been anything but easy. Just when she finds a sense of peace in the desert town she gets slammed back into a life full of conflict and men who ride motorcycles for more than just a little fun.

On Hiatus - May resume/ rework after final season airs?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,  Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 (18+), Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18,

Neron “Creeper” Vargas

Unexpected Blessings, Part 2- An unexpected late night encounter brings out Creepers soft side and flips two unsuspecting worlds upside down.

Familial Persecution- Creeper loves you more than anything and sticks by your side while you deal with the death of your father but your family does not approve.

A True Gem- Everyone thinks you’re eccentric but Creeper embraces your quirks. 

Inked (18+)- There’s a mutual attraction but the admiration for your tattoo’s is what brings you together.

Marshmallow Dreams- What happens when you mix a Cali boy and wintery New York? The risk of frostbite and hot cocoa with too many marshmallows.

Parental Guidance- A daughter’s first date is a father's worst nightmare.

Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes

Coffee Connections- It is an unspoken rule to never be late for the first date. 

Getting Old (18+)- While a back injury causes you to have an existential crisis, Ez has other plans for you.

The Way We Get By, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5- Working at Vicki’s was just a way to put yourself through law school and keep food on your table. (18+)

People Watching- If he is the one to interrupt your peace while hiding away from the party downstairs then you’re okay with that.

 Johnny “Coco” Cruz

Second Chances, Part 2- He had always dismissed his family because of the poison that ran through their veins until Letty showed him that it didn’t have to be that way, now he just wants to make things right.

Asshole- No matter what you do, you’re always the bad guy.

Hank “Tranq” Loza

Moral of the Story, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4- Their marriage took a turn for the worst, but they made a vow that neither of them had the heart to break. 

Loss of a Brother- Lucille had never imagined the day she would lose her baby brother, nor would she imagine Hank being the one there to pick her back up.

Che “Taza” Romero

Summer Break- You couldn’t get through to your son but Taza has dad powers.

#mayans mc #mayans mc masterlist #mayans mc fic #bishop losa #obispo losa #creeper vargas #neron vargas #hank loza #tranq loza #mayans #michael irby #joseph raymond lucero #frankie loyal #coco cruz #johnny cruz #richard cabral #mayans x oc #mayans x reader #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #jd pardo #taza romero #raoul max trujillo

[mischief-managed-snitches]

Run for Your Life

PART SIX of Bishop and Gracie!

Gif Rights: Who ever the beautiful soul was that made this!! This is not mine, simply one I found and liked.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Hints of Past Trauma

As always, I do NOT own anything Mayans related. I DO own my character and her story though.

My first language is English. I do know some Spanish but I am not fluent. I will be keeping the Spanish in this story to a minimum to avoid butchering a beautiful language. There will be some usage of terms of endearment and stuff though, praying they make sense!

Bishop watched Gracie laugh at something Coco said, a wave of jealously washing over him. He wanted to make her happy like that. His grip tightened on his beer as she lifted a hand to hide that grin that did things to his stomach. He noticed her do that before a couple times and the urge to pull her hand away from her face surged in him again. She didn't have to hide her happiness and any person that makes her think otherwise, can fuck right off.

"You into all that, Bish?"

The president turned two cold eyes to his left, fixing Angel with a glare hard enough to make the six foot something man shrink in his seat. "What the fuck did you just ask me?"

"I... I just... You watch her all the time. Keep tabs on her like the secret service watch the fucking president."

"You have a fucking point, Reyes?"

"She's pregnant, man."

"You think I don't fucking know that?" Bishop growled, watching Angel lean further back in his chair, he looked like he regretted opening his mouth.

"Yeah, Bish, of course. I..."

"I took her to that appointment. Let her squeeze the shit out of my hand while we listened to the heartbeat. Held her when she had a complete fucking breakdown in my truck." Bishop leaned toward him, lowering his voice. "You think I'd do any of that if I wasn't into her? If her being pregnant was a problem for me?"

"I guess not." Angel shook his head wishing he could disappear. Pushing on bravely, he spoke again. "It's just alot of responsibility, pres. I... I'd do anything to have had the chance to meet my son. To hold him in my arms. Protect him and his mom from the shit around us. Just wanted to know if you'd feel the same about a kid that wasn't yours."

Bishop leaned back in his chair, mulling over Angel's words. "Hell, I'm sorry, Angel. That shit was fucked and you deserved the chance to have all that." Bishop paused meeting his eyes, "believe me when I say, I want those things too. I want to protect her, I want to help her with the baby and I don't give a fuck that it's not mine. I just want to see her happy and both her and the kid healthy."

Angel nodded, "good." Then he pushed up from his chair and strode across the room to where she stood with EZ, Creeper and Coco by the pool table. Bishop chuckled as he ripped a cigarette out of Creeper's mouth and threw it on the floor before he could even light it. The words 'she's fucking pregnant, man!' Filtered through the music, making Bishop laugh again. Creeper apologized, turning and heading to the door with a new cigarette in hand.

Bishop watched a moment longer as Angel slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug as he whispered something into her ear. She nodded, looking like she mouthed a thank you. Then he dropped his arm and stepped away, grabbing the pool stick from Ez.

"Who wants to play me?" He yelled, holding his arms up in the air, brandishing the stick with a devilish smirk. "Anyone think they can take on the king?" Bishop shook his head, abandoning his beer as he stood up, crossing the room in a couple easy strides.

"Oooo! Pres wants to take on the champ?"

"Shut the fuck up and hand me a stick." Bishop scoffed, holding out his hand.

Angel grabbed one from the wall mount, tossing it to him with a haughty smirk. "Let's go, Jefe."

"Solo, or partners?"

"Your choice."

"What do you say, Gracie? Wanna be my other half?" Bishop quirked a dark eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. Gracie flushed, her heart hammering in her chest as he gazed at her. His choice of words made her stomach flip and judging by his expression, that was exactly his intention.

"Uh... S-Sure. I'll play." She stammered, stepping forward as he held out the stick to her. "I'm not very good though."

Bishop made a noise of disagreement, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You'll be fine."

"Alright, then I want Coco!" Angel shouted, watching the man in question roll his eyes.

"Man, I don't wanna be stuck with you again."

"Shut the fuck up, Coco! I'm the best teammate in this place." Angel pouted, looking offended.

Bishop leaned a hip on the side of the table, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes stayed on Gracie as he muttered, "I beg to differ," under his breath.

Ez stepped forward, gathering the colored balls into the triangle, setting them into formation. Then he removed the plastic piece and stepped back, dropping it to the side to pick up his beer instead. He smiled as he watched Angel put on a serious face.

"Let's make this more interesting." Angel said, pulling his wallet out. "Hundred bucks says Coco and I beat your asses." Slapping the crumbled bills on the side of the table, Angel stuffed his wallet back into his pocket.

Bishop scoffed, copying his actions, laying two crisp fifties beside his money. "Deal." He stepped back, tucking his wallet away with a small smile in Gracie"s direction. She returned it, noting how much neater Bishop was than Angel in almost every way. From the way he stored his money to the way he handled himself. He was smooth and confident and organized where Angel was rough and cocky and chaotic. Two very different men.

"I'm not sure I know how to do this, Bish." She spoke quietly, her cheeks going red with embarrassment.

"You've got it, querida." Stepping up behind her, he let his chest graze her back as he pointed to the white ball. "That's the cue ball. Just hit it with your stick and try to break the triangle apart."

She nodded, taking a step closer to the table, bending awkwardly to rest the stick on the side of the table. She tried to mimick the way she had seen the men hold the stick, but it felt heavy and strange in her hands.

"Here," Bishop appeared behind her again, adjusting her grip to support the stick better. "That's it, just like that." He whispered to her, the silky baritone to his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

Gracie pulled pack and snapped the stick forward, connecting with the cue ball with a crack. The hit was hard, but not centered and the ball nearly missed the group in the middle completely. It just barely caught the corner, sending two other balls rolling away, but the others still sat proudly in formation. Angel chuckled behind his hand, eyes crinkling in amusement. Gracie blushed, stepping back and directly into Bishop's chest. She fumbled slightly, forgetting he was there, feeling embarrassed all over again for an entirely different reason.

Bishop's left hand landed on her hip, steadying her, squeezing it gently. "Easy, sweetheart, you'll get 'em next time." He spoke quietly, right into her ear, his lips brushing the side of her head. Bishop gave her hip another soft squeeze before taking the stick with his other hand. Stepping around her, he walked right up to the table, "let's go, asshat. Show us how the king breaks them." Bishop sneered mockingly, letting Angel take his shot and scoffing when not a single ball rolled into a pocket. Leaning forward, Bishop snapped the stick into the cue ball and smirked when two balls rolled into seperate pockets.

"Fucking smartass." Angel grumbled, crossing his arms. Coco chuckled as he took his shot, sinking one ball, but the wrong color. "What hell, Coco!"

"Whoops." Coco shrugged, handing the stick back to his partner with a shitty smile. Bishop caught the wink he threw Gracie's way.

Gracie grinned, eyes flashing toward to Bishop to find him already looking at her. Her breath caught in her chest, the look in his eyes something foreign to her. Was that adoration she saw? Infatuation? She couldn't be sure, but the heat of his eyes on her made her blush.

"You're up, princesa." He grinned at her, offering her the stick, letting his hand graze hers as she took it from him. Gracie nodded, pressing her lips together as she turned back to the table. She adjusted the stick in her grip the way she was shown, pushing it forward, she hit the cue ball and then the solid purple. Watching with a growing smile, the ball rolled forward and dropped into the pocket with a thunk. Turning back to Bishop she met his grin with her own, bouncing slightly in her excitement.

Bishop's breath caught in his throat. She looked fucking radiant. So carefree and happy. It took everything in him to keep his hands to himself, the urge to wrap her in his arms had his fingers twitching. "Well done, querida." Bishop's mustache lifted as his grin crinkled his eyes. God, what he wouldn't do to keep her that happy.

"Yeah, yeah, it was a good hit, Grace." Angel grumbled, but the hint of a smile on his lips told everyone he wasn't really as bitter as he let on. He enjoyed her gleeful expression as much as the next guy, her childlike joy lit up the room.

The game continued, Angel sinking most of the shots, Coco openly sabotaging their team. Bishop's aim was true, he rarely missed a ball and Gracie... Well she tried her best. Bishop ended up hitting the final ball, pushing it easily into the pocket he had called. Gracie clapped for him, grinning from ear to ear as Angel sulked. Coco smirked, disappearing out the door with a pack of cigarettes.

"Good game, Bish!" Gracie beamed, laying the stick on the table.

"Couldn't have done it without you, sweetheart." He spoke softly, stepping into her space with a devilish grin. She didn't back away, only inhaled sharply as one of his hands came to rest on the small of her back. He pressed her a fraction of an inch closer, squashing the urge to kiss her. "You're like my secret weapon." He told her, breath fanning her face as he looked down at her wide-eyed expression.

"You flatter me, Bish." Gracie whispered, meeting his eyes as her hands twisted nervously. "I did next to nothing though."

Bishop sucked his teeth, shaking his head in disapproval. "Give yourself some credit, querida, you earned two hundred bucks tonight."

Gracie gasped as she felt him push the bills into her back pocket, his hand sliding in slowly only to withdraw as quick as it came. "Obispo Losa!" She pushed at his chest and he stepped back, raising his hands innocently.

"What?"

"I am not taking all this money!" Gracie cried, reaching into her pocket to give it back. Bishop lunged forward, gently grabbing her wrist.

"Oh yes you are. It's yours. You won it fair and square."

"You made most of the shots!" She reasoned, looking at him as if he had three heads.

"Just keep it, sweetheart, please." He released her then, backing away to find his abandoned beer. She watched him go, a surprised look on her face. A few minutes later, she walked to the bar, asking for a glass of ice water, feeling overly hot for some reason. After taking a few gulps, she decided to go outside and take a breather.

That's where Bishop found her. Sitting on the front porch step, glass of water beside her, hands rubbing her rounded belly. Illuminated by the moonlight, Bishop couldn't help but stare for a moment. He couldn't remember ever being so spellbound by a woman before. This was a new feeling for him.

"You, alright, querida?" Bishop tried to speak softly, but she startled anyway. His voice a stark contrast to the silence of the scrapyard. "I'm sorry." He apologized, striding over to her, sitting down without hesitation.

"It's okay," she told him, turning her face from the sky to look at him. She smiled briefly, before turning her face upwards again. "I'm okay. Just so hot all of a sudden, must be a baby thing." She shrugged, looking far away.

"Can I get you anything? To help?"

"No, thank you though. I have a drink and the air is helping." Gracie breathed in deeply, "look at those stars." She sounded awestruck and Bishop realized that he hasn't stopped to look at the stars in quite some time. Pulling his eyes away from her face, he looked up.

"Mmm." He hummed in agreement, marveling over the glittering night sky. Pulling his gaze back to the side of her face, he murmured, "beautiful."

Gracie could see him looking, from the corner of her eye she could see that he wasn't talking about the sky. She flushed in the darkness. "Bishop." There was a warning to her voice that she hadn't necessarily intended, but it happened anyway.

"What?" He asked innocently, pretending not to know what she meant. "It is and so are you."

Gracie stiffened, attempting to push herself up and off the step, but her belly got in the way.

"Whoa, whoa." Bishop steadied her, standing first and then tugging her arm gently to guide her to her feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's not that, it's just..."

"What?"

"Look at me, Bishop!" She shouted all of a sudden, her voice splitting the night's silence.

"I am looking at you, sweetheart." He spoke calmly, quietly, refusing to let her anxiety shake him.

"I'm fucking pregnant!" She cried, throwing her hands up.

Much like before with Angel, Bishop felt his hackles raise. Trying to stay calmer than before, he simply tilted his head. "I know. I was at that appointment with you." Why did everyone think he couldn't handle this?

"How... How could you-" Gracie gulped, turning her back on him as she pushed a handful of curls out of her face. She huffed, trying to calm herself.

Bishop walked slowly around her, wanting to look her in the face again. "How could I what?"

"How could you be interested in someone like me?" She muttered, her shoulders dropped, her face turning down to the dirt.

"I'm sorry, someone like you?" Bishop growled, struggling to hide his frustrations. "What does that even mean, Gracie?"

Her head jerked up as he used her actual name. No sweetheart, dear, or princess. Just her name and honest concern. "A knocked up, homeless freak with PTSD that would rival that of a soldier coming home from war." She spit, eyes welling with tears as she glared at him.

Bishop swallowed hard, feeling his resolve snap as she insulted herself. No one got to talk like that about her. Not even her. "Gracie." He growled, stepping forward. "You are not a freak. Yes, you're pregnant. Yes, you have trauma from your past, but that does not and will not scare me away. You are smart and strong and so, so beautiful. God, your smile alone takes my breath away, and your laugh... I thought I was having fucking heart palpitations in there when we were playing pool. You have no idea what you do to me and the thought of you seeing yourself this way makes me so fucking angry."

Bishop's hands clenched into fists as he tried to stomp out his anger. Stepping closer, he reached for her, but froze as she flinched away from his hand. She realized what she did immediately, her lip trembling as he dropped his hands back to his sides.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, tears spilling over. Her hand lifted to cover her mouth. "I'm so-rry!"

"Gracie," Bishop sighed, slowly reaching for her again. When she didn't flinch away this time, he framed her face with his hands. Lifting her face to look her in the eye, he made her a promise. "I will never hit you. Not now, not ever. There is not a thing you could do or say to make me lash out at you like that. Do you understand?" Bishop spoke quietly, but his voice was hard, his body on edge as he looked into her watery eyes.

She nodded awkwardly in his hold, sniffing as more tears ran down her face.

"I won't hurt you, Gracie. I swear I won't and I won't let anyone else hurt you either. Never again. You're safe here. You're safe with me." Bishop's tone softened up, his hands sliding down her shoulders, over her arms, finally coming to a rest on her hips. He drew her in then, wrapping his arms around her in a hug that left zero space between their bodies. "As for the nightmares and the PTSD, if there is anything, anything at all I can do to help you with that. I will." He whispered into her curls, lips brushing her ear. "We're all here for you, Grace. If it would make you feel better to have your own place, we'll get it for you. If you want to stay with Letty and Coco, that's fine too. If you ever want to stay at my place, if that would make you feel safer or help you sleep better, or just make you feel less guilty about waking Coco and Letty each night, then I'll move you in tonight. Hell, Gracie, you tell me what you need and I'll break my fucking back getting it for you."

Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt, her face finding shelter in his neck. Her shaky breath rattled her chest and Bishop could feel it the whole way into his own. His stomach dropped as a fresh set of tears soaked his shirt. Bishop panicked momentarily. What did he say wrong?

"Thank you. Thank you, Obi, th-ank yo-u." She choked through her sobs, the shortening of his name squeezed at his heart. Fucking hell he was in so deep.

"Sshh, Gracie, I'm here. You're safe." He tightened his arms just a fraction, rubbing up and down her back gently. Her whole body stiffened and she gasped, Bishop nearly jumped away from her, afraid he had just stepped way over the line.

"Did you... Did you fe-el that?" Gracie sputtered, looking at him and then down to her stomach, her hands landing softly on her belly.

"What?" Bishop asked, concern flashing through him as his mind automatically went to all the terrible things that could be happening.

"I think... I think my baby..." She pressed her hand to her stomach, lifting her tear stained face to give him a small smile.

"What is it?" Bishop demanded, reaching for her in desperation, fearing something was wrong. Gracie grabbed his hand in both of hers, pressing it flat to her stomach. A weird fluttering greeted him, almost like a pulse, but more sporadic. "Holy hell... Is that..."

"The baby." She murmured, tears spilling for an entirely different reason now. She smiled at him as they dripped down her face.

Leaving one hand on her stomach, he lifted the other to her cheek, cupping it, lifting her face to his in a slow and gentle way that allowed her plenty of time to escape. When he was confident that he wasn't scaring her, he pulled her forward, large fingers wrapping around to the back of her neck and tugging her forward. Bishop's lips met hers in a kiss that was so soft and so tender that had she not been crying already, it would have surely made her sob. Gracie responded almost immediately, moving her lips against his, fueled by her newfound joy as the baby kicked again under their hands.

Bishop backed off as Gracie pulled away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. His hand slipped to her waist, his eyes dropping to where their hands rested on her belly. "Shit." He breathed, grinning at her as the tiny flutter greeted him again.

"She must feel safe around you too." Gracie whispered, looking up at him with a small smile.

Bishop's brows lifted, her words sinking into his chest and warming his heart. "Too?"

Gracie nodded, "I trust you. I believe everything you just said. I know you'd never hurt me." She swallowed hard, "I'm damaged, there's no doubt about that, but I'm not stupid. I know all men aren't like my ex and I know you're not like him. Not even close."

"Damn right." Bishop nearly growled, tugging her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "You are so smart and beautiful and sweet." He pecked her lips again, then her cheek and her other cheek.

"Thank you for making me feel safe." She whispered, eyes slipping closed as he pressed a kiss to her neck, just below her ear.

"Thank you for trusting me." Bishop spoke against her skin, kissing his way back up to rest his forehead against hers once more. "I meant everything I said though, sweetheart. I won't hurt you and you are safe. You're always welcome here, or at my place and I will help you in every and any way you allow."

Gracie nodded against him, making their noses bump. He chuckled as her face split into the smile he loved so much. She yawned through the smile, "can you take me back to Letty's?"

Bishop smiled, pulling back as he took her hand in his, "absolutely. Let's go."

#romance #writer #writing #fiction #lovestory #bishop losa #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #obispo losa #mayans imagine #mayans x oc #bishop losa x gracie

[losolvidad0s]

Dangerous Liaisons, Ch.1

Summary: Catalina Romero has finally built the courage to return to Santo Padre, California after nearly 5 years. What is left in the rubble of her past?

pairing: Angel Reyes x Catalina “Lina” Romero x Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes

a/n: It’s finally happening, chapter 1! I’m excited to share this with you all, let me know if you’ll be #teamAngel or #teamEZ? Please enjoy, don’t forget to follow, turn on the notifs, heart, commmet, and reblog! Follow the tag #dangerous liaisons* for updates!

(gif credit belongs to @angels-reyes ✨)

“One, two, three, four, five, si... one, two, three...”

 It doesn’t take much for someone like Catalina Romero to get distracted. She is convinced that her attention span is of a dog with a bone in a squirrel infested area. The bone is long forgotten, just as counting the amount of boxes while listening to a random podcast.The moving truck will arrive anytime soon and it must be precise in how much she is moving.

Despite it being 3 weeks since she quit her job and informed her landlord that she will not be renewing her upcoming lease, it still sounds funny to her that she is moving. After 4 1/2 years living in the Northern California, Catalina is heading back down to Southern California to the small town of Santo Padre.

The distant sound of motorcycles catch her attention as tries to recount the boxes once more. She stops in her movements to listen if they are just passing by, however when the engine sounds get louder and much closer, eventually idling, she knows they’ve stopped right under her apartment unit.

She sticks her head out of the open window, the shine of two beautifully crafted harleys beaming back at her thanks to the scorching sun. The two men remove their helmets and swing their legs behind them and on the ground below. 

“You couldn’t wait one more day, I know the drive just fine!” Catalina calls out and the two men look up. The taller of the two removing his dark shades. “Not I, mija, Tu padrino.” That’s when the other man looks up, smiling ear to ear.

Taza Romero and Obispo Losa look to each other as they see the young girl disappear from above them, smiling in excitement knowing that they won’t need to commute to see her anymore.

Once the screen door opens, it’s an ambush. Catalina jumps into her father’s arms and quickly encasing him a tight hug. His hearty laugh rumbles and he squeezes, leaning back to get a good look at his little girl. It’s been a few months since he’s seen her. Business with the motorcycle club has had him more busy in the past few months than it ever has in the last decade. But with her now deciding to move to Santo Padre, he is thrilled.

“And me?”

She releases her hold on her dad and jumps right into her godfather’s embrace. Bishop feels a large weight lift off his chest as he holds one of the most important people in his arms again. 

When Catalina was younger. Bishop acted as a father figure for her as well. He didn’t have a family himself so when Taza had asked him to be her godfather, he vowed to love her as if she were his own. It broke his heart when she decided to move up north with her mother’s family those few years back. And as the club business grew bigger and more dangerous, he and her father also carried a small worry that they didn’t have her in arms reach to keep her safe.

“You two didn’t need to come all the way out here to escort me like I’m Princess Diana.” After a few more seconds of hugging, the two release. “Bad example as she died in a car accident, but I would have been just fine.” 

She rolls her eyes as they give her a look reminding her that it’ll ease their mind to be there. They all share a laugh and head into her nearly packed up apartment to get ready to load her life she’s built onto a moving truck.

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Like always, her dad and godfather are all knowing. The drive was long but the occasional looking in the mirrors and seeing the bikes follow gave her a sense of security. After a pit stop for some early dinner, they arrive at the Romero family house that is a few streets away from the Mayans MC clubhouse. The crickets were the only sound after the engines of the bikes cutoff. 

“Finally. No more moan and groan from these two.” A new voice fills the air as Hank Loza stands on the porch, smiling at how grown she has gotten. In Catalina’s defense, she hasn’t grown much since the last time everyone has seen her but it is obvious that she surely isn’t the same young lady from all those years ago.

“I apologize for that, hey Hank!” They embrace in a hug. He takes a good look at her and everyone starts to pile out of the house. Bishop had let the club know of her arrival tonight and to make themselves available to help out.

Gilly, Coco and Riz has ambushed her the second they exit the house. The smell of leather and tobacco smother as she is bear hugged. “Oh god, too much love. Too much!” A harmony of laughter as they mess her hair up.

Despite being an attractive girl from the get go, none of the guys saw her as anything but a young sister to protect. It was mostly from the threats from the president and his vp, but also because they all knew better than to do so especially because during the last few years of her stay in Santo Padre, she was Angel’s girl. Angel Ignacio Reyes, she couldn’t help but look around for him. 

Catalina didn’t grow up much around her dad’s lifestyle. The occasional stops by the clubhouse but she never lived around them. She lived with her dad’s sister right outside of town. But the older she got, the less she saw her dad, the more she longed to be around him. When she turned 18, she made a promise with Taza that should she go to college for at least 4 years, she could be around the MC as much as she desired.

And when she did so, she moved where she stands now at 22 years old. When she met the one of the three prospects at the time, Angel Reyes. 

“I hope you are hungry, we got meat cooking on the grill!” Gilly calls out as she is pulled out from the memories that flood her mind. Catalina pat her stomach and rubs her hands as they head around the house to the backyard. 

She is shocked to see how much things have changed, how well kept the backyard is. Not that she ever doubted that he father could keep it up on his own. Which is probably also thanks to muscle of the club.

A cold bottle of beer is handed to her as everyone settles in the back and the music is resumed. GIlly and Coco at the grill, Bishop and Hank chatting. It’s almost like she hadn’t left. 

The gate of the fence opens and a pile a girls come through. Ah, Vicki’s girls. She says to herself as they each head to a Mayan. Catalina almost gag when a young girl, who must not even be much older than herself, leans into her dad’s side. 

“5 fuckin’ years and you still haven’t changed your hair?” The voice makes her jump as she turns on her heel to see him towering over her. A bottle pressed against his lips and tipped up, though he still has his eyes on her.

It takes her a moment to say something, he watches her with a confused face.  ‘I could never figure out what I want so, I stuck with what I know. Hey, Angel.” When his name sounds from her, he feels the same thing he use to feel. He scratches the back of his head, “Pres says your back for good. How long is that for?”

She smiles and looks away from him, meeting his eyes just as quick again. “I’m here for good. Promise.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Though his voice sounds cold, his face shows the opposite. The smile and his relaxed body stance. Angel feels at peace. To see her again. This makes her relinquish any worries that things between the two would be rocky with her return after how things had ended.

“Welcome back, mi dulce.” He leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek. His hand lingers on the side of her neck where he held onto. He lets it fall off as he steps behind her and towards the others. She turns and watches him hug his club brothers.

Catalina feels hopeful of being back home in Santo Padre. 

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After a night of good food and company, Catalina wakes the next day later than she normally would considering she drank quite a bit after not doing so in a couple weeks. The house empty and quiet, she finds a plate of breakfast wrapped up for her. Just like old times, despite her being able to do so herself, her father takes care of her. 

She remembers her way to the clubhouse like nothing. The large gate being pushed back by Angel as she drives her car through. It’s a lot to take in. She takes a deep breath in and reminds herself that she really is here. Angel jogs over to the driver’s side after closing the gate to open the door for her.

“Mornin’.” He leans on the door as she gets out and stands in front of him. Their eyes never leaving each other as Angel shuts the door.

“You get as much sleep as me?” 

He says to her. His voice but a whisper as she licks her lips looking at his. This use to be a habit of hers; staring at his lips. It wasn’t just the fact that she liked them against her own, no. It became a defense tactic for her. A way to stop staring into his deep dark eyes since she tends to get lost into them too quickly.

“A few good hours but not much considering I’m back....here.” She looks around them, taking in the sight of the closed into clubhouse and nearby scrap yard. It is Angel’s turn to look at her lips. His heart hammering as he looks at the small space between them.

He opens his mouth to say something to her, anything. That he missed her? He is both excited but hesitant the she is back and back for good? That she still looks like the same one who up and left with a piece of his heart all those years ago? Angel didn’t want their reunion to start of with questions of the past. But he didn’t have a chance to talk with her.

“Templo!”

Bishops voices pulls their attention to the porch of the clubhouse. Angel groans and nods towards his president. Catalina lifts her arm to wave at him as he does so stepping back through the door.

Angel turns back to her and brushes his hand against her arm before backing up and heading in with the rest of the guys.Catalina remembers that is their sacred time as a club, no one else allowed. She decides to admire everyone’s bikes up close. She can recognize her father’s, Bishop’s and Angel’s instantly. Her hand rests on the handles as she looks over the green harley. It looks like a few more designs were added onto it.

Catalina swings her leg over as she sits on the bike. She reaches up and places her hands on the high rising handles. A few memories begin to play in her mind as she closes her eyes. She can remember the first time Angel took her on a ride. It wasn’t her first one but her first one on his bike. The way she held onto him as he sped up every chance he got.

The sound of the screen door slamming pulls her from the thought, her eyes following the sound.

EZ Reyes exits the clubhouse as the rest of the club sits in for the meeting. With him being a fresh Prospect, he didn’t have a seat yet. Catalina’s eyes meets his as he descends down the few steps and towards the bikes. She hadn’t recognized him and confirmed the suspicion that he must a be new prospect.

“One of the nicest but not the best of the group if you ask me.” EZ says as he gets closer, pointing to his brothers bike. She snickers as she looks down at the bike and shakes her head in disagreement.

“Bishop’s has the be the nicest. I mean, that color? Angel went safe with green.” She looks between the two bikes then back at the unfamiliar face. “Lina.”

“Ezekiel, EZ.” He shakes her hand as she smiles at him. To him, he knew she was Taza’s daughter. Then the longer he stared did he realize this is her. This is the her that his brother has mentioned a few times. Angel never went into the detail about the mysterious Lina.

“Angel’s kid bother, yeah he’s mentioned you before.” She says as they release the grip from the handshake. Catalina looks over the younger Reyes. In her years being in Santo Padre. she never put a face to the name. Angel only briefly mention he had younger brother who got himself locked up and that was that. 

He isn’t a tall as his older brother but not too far off either. Truthfully the two had little resemblance. But as her mind tried to remember their mother from pictures she was shown, she could see a little of the beautiful lady in EZ. She gives him a tight-lipped smile as he hangs his hand on the front of kutte.

She notices his big arms, ones that could have any girl with weak knees. She won’t lie to herself that she didn’t feel the slight weakness hit hers as he approached her a few moments ago.

“How’s that going?” She nods to the prospect patch.

EZ follows her line of sight and looks down at it as well. His chest fills with air as he ponders what to say. He thought to himself to answer carefully. She can easily report back to her dad, to the president, to his sponsor which is his brother. With an exhale he smirks looking back at her, “It’s new still so I can’t form a honest opinion just yet.”

“Good answer.” They both laugh. The moment between them interrupted by the commotion of the club piling out. They turn their attention to the guys, Angel noticing the close proximity of Catalina and EZ. 

She walks up to the group of guys who greet her. Angel smiling at her as he passes by to head to his bike, “Com’n prospect, we got business.” 

Catalina watches the two brothers stride next to each other. Her focus solely on Angel as he straps on his helmet. He looks over at her as he puts on his shades and starts up his bike. 

“Feels like yesterday, huh?” Taza says now standing beside her. She hums in response as she watches the gate open for them, the Reyes brothers riding out. 

Things do have a nostalgic feel to them. She prepared herself for a warm as well as a possible cold welcome. Not just from the obvious,Angel, but the entire club as well. Though it was nothing but a sweet ease in. Capable of taking things into her own hands, she is a liability to club should she get herself into trouble.And her reunion with Angel had gone a lot smoother than she anticipated with their departure being of a messy nature. But things seem like it will be possible to go as they were. 

So she thinks. 

chapter 2

taglist: @cind-in-real-life @nakusaych9 @dearsamcrobae @kchavez666 @claytoncardenasbabymama @courtrae89 @goodvibs-world @briannab1234​ @jasmine10128 

#Mayans MC #mayans imagine #mayans fx #angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x imagine #angel reyes x oc #ez reyes #ez reyes fic #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes x oc #taza romero #obispo losa #marcus alvarez #riz ariza #gilly lopez #hank loza #coco cruz #Santo Padre charter #miguel galindo #galindo cartel #adelita #losolvidad0s #dangerous liaisons* #teamAngel #teamEZ #catalina romero