#bishop losa fluff
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Burden of Thunder... and Waffles - A Bishop Losa/Daughter One Shot Story.
I felt like writing something cute, and I know a few of you utterly melt at the idea of daddy Bish, so yeah. I gotchu :)
Words - 826
Warnings - Pure fluff!
The far away rumble of thunder rolling over the greyish-violet clouds acted as his alarm, Bishop grunting, scratching his face as he lifted his cell from the nightstand. 5:03am. Nope. He would not entertain getting up just yet. His head, still thick and heavy with sleep sank back down into the pillows, plump and downy, his eyes pulled back into the ever-alluring blanket of slumber.
It had only been about twenty minutes when the actual blanket which covered him began to move around, small hands and feet negotiating their way onto the bed, climbing up his back, a heel hitting him in the spot right above his left kidney. He grunted, and she continued her ascent until she was pressed flat against his back, small arms reaching for his neck.
“Daddy.”
He smiled before even opening his eyes, hearing her little croaky voice speak the name only she called him, his little dark haired, hazel eyed princess. She was much like him of a morning, completely unwilling to rise early, but for Rosie Losa, she made an exception if it meant she got to venture into another bed and cuddle with her daddy.
“Morning, baby,” he murmured, feeling her tiny fingers stroking his beard. “How’d ya sleep?”
“Thunder stupid. Woke me up!”
He chuckled at her indignance. Two years old and already, she had no issue voicing complaint, even at the weather. She’d once proclaimed the sun to be dumb when her mother had advised her to come inside when it got too hot for her to play in the backyard, throwing herself onto the couch dramatically and frowning as she’d vented her frustration.
“It’ll pass soon,” he advised her, feeling her soft breaths flutter over his bare shoulder. “Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”
Another roll of thunder sounded, Rosie squeaking softly with displeasure. “Is loud! Bad noises! Like helicacchopter!”
He snorted quietly, his grin growing. She couldn’t quite grasp how to say the word helicopter just yet. She had a list of words that he adored, that he almost didn’t want her to ever succeed in pronouncing correctly, for the joy it brought him to hear her mispronounce cookies as coobees, medicine as mexme and motorcycle as mocortycle. Her asking if she could sit on his mocortycle was one of his favourite things.
“Daddy! Is too boom boom to sleep!” she whined, the thunder growing a little louder. “Can you make breaktees?” Breakfast was another word she couldn’t quite yet grasp.
“Right now?”
“Yep!”
“Can’t tempt you to sleep a little longer, no?”
“Is too loud, silly!”
Her mind, it seemed, was made up. She was a Losa through and through in that respect. “Where’s mommy?”
“Doing pedals.” Yes. Karina often did get up at a ridiculous hour to strap herself to her Peloton and cycle for an hour before getting ready for work. “Breaktees, Daddy! Now!”
He turned over, throwing her down suddenly, Rosie landing with a soft thump and a giggle as he reached to seat her on his stomach, shaking his head. “What happened to my little baby who liked to sleep in?”
“Told you! Thunder!” Her eyes widened, thrusting a hand towards the window with dramatic flair.
“Alright, kid. You win.” He yawned, stretching, Rosie sticking her finger in his mouth, as he always did to her when she yawned. “Stop it!”
“Gotcha!” Her giggle was pure sunshine, and he lived for it, even when it was as a result of his child getting her own back on him.
“Okay, what do you wanna eat?”
She thought for a few moments, humming softly. “Waffles!”
Damn her. The one thing he was completely useless at making. Even with ready mixed batter, he inevitably messed them up. “You gonna help me? You know daddy sucks at waffles. But if you wanted scrambled eggs and toast, I’m your guy for that.”
Her face scrunched in a frown, her tiny nose crinkling. “No scrambly eggies! Waffles!”
The small one had made her demands known. “Alright.” Sitting up, he wrapped an arm around her, his feet touching the floor with reluctance, 5:42am and already compliant to the demands of the tiny overlord. “You know you’re the only person in the world who gets to boss me around like this, don’t you, baby?”
“And mommy!”
He smirked, pulling the bedroom door open. “Only sometimes. You, though? All of the time.” Placing her down when they arrived in the kitchen, he grabbed a pair of clean sweats from the laundry basket, pulling them on, watching Rosie heave the fridge door open and pull out the carton of waffle batter, the Hershey’s syrup following.
“Now you do, daddy. Make waffles happen!”
He took the items she thrust towards him, saluting her. “Yes, jefe.”
She beamed, a full grin of tiny teeth making him realise that just as long as she kept smiling at him like that, he’d let her wrap him around her little finger forever.
#bishop losa#bishop losa fanfiction#bishop losa fanfic#bishop losa fic#bishop losa x oc#bishop losa fluff#bishop losa imagine#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans mc fic#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc fluff
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wow. That’s all I can say. So I will just stand up, & give the ovation this masterpiece deserves. 👏🏻
Starry Eyes
Pairing: Bishop Losa x Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Bishop's been having a rough few weeks, so you're determined to take his mind off of whatever plagues him.
Warnings: fluff out the ass, kinda femdom??? not really but the reader does take charge🥵, Bishop being a good man and letting reader worship and fuck him like he deserves, unprotected sex (p in v), light oral (m receiving), body worship, creampie, squirting, dirty talk
Tip Jar
Tagging: @est1887 @melaniecraig80
a/n: there is absolutely no way I will pass up an opportunity to write something filthy for my husband, so enjoy!
Posting new fics over on @michaelirby
It started with breakfast. Typically, Bishop wakes up at the crack of dawn, well before you have to be awake, and goes about his routine silently. This routine includes showering, brushing his teeth, downing a cup of black coffee, and then heading to the clubhouse. You’ve known about this routine for a while, it’s hard not to when you also wake when he does, the sudden lack of warmth always rouses you.
So, you’ve started waking up even earlier to make him breakfast, even if it’s simply bacon and eggs, you’re determined to get some nutrition in his body before he leaves the house. You make sure to slide back into bed before Bishop rises, lest he find you in the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning. The first time he slipped out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, a note was stuck to the microwave, inside was a breakfast fit for a king.
Bishop hadn’t grumbled about it, even if he didn't agree with you changing your sleeping habits just to do this for him, he wasn’t going to complain, nor make you feel bad. Instead, each morning he’d leave you’d feel his lips pressed to your forehead followed by a thank you, querida.
Then, it was the random gift basket you’d had your friend deliver directly to the clubhouse last week. Now, you know Bishop well enough to know exactly what he likes and doesn’t, so the gift basket had included a new carton of cigarettes, a few kinds of jerky, and a small assortment of fruit. The fruit was more of a truce, he could indulge in his unhealthy habits as long as he ate something relating to nutrition.
Through your friend you found out that as she was leaving, Angel had thrown a jab at Bishop for popping a slice of melon into his mouth. What made you laugh the most was Bishop saying something along the lines of make one more joke about my girl taking care of me and I'll take your kutte.
This last Monday you’d snuck a polaroid in his wallet, a risqué photo of you in nothing but his flannel and a pair of panties posing on the bed, laid out like a queen. Bishop had shown his appreciation for that picture as soon as he’d come home, skipping dinner altogether so he could spend the next two hours feasting between your thighs.
You weren’t being sneaky, you know that. You also know that Bishop is aware of your thought processes behind each gift you give him, yet he chooses not to say anything. Probably because he enjoys indulging in your antics, but that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is the pie you’ve just put in the oven and the steak cooling on the counter from having just come off the grill.
What matters is that, while he greatly appreciates your actions, Bishop’s been in a funk for the last two weeks, rarely allowing himself the time to be vulnerable in front of you. Therefore, you’ve taken it upon yourself to ease his stress, take his mind off whatever it is that’s bothering him, if even for a night.
The sudden roar of a motorcycle engine snaps you out of your thoughts, has you rushing around the kitchen to prepare the food on plates and grab beers. By the time you’ve set the table, the front door opens and Bishop enters.
He’s quiet as he pads down the hall into the kitchen, probably from taking off his shoes at the door. Behind you, you hear him whistle, a smile appearing on your face as you turn to face him.
“And what did I do to deserve this?” Bishop asks, licking his bottom lip before walking towards you further. Clearly entranced by one of his shirts hanging off your figure.
Shrugging, you smile wider, meeting him halfway and embracing each other tightly. With your head resting on Bishop’s chest, you sigh happily, any worries melting away.
“You’ve been in a funk lately,” You state, squeezing his middle tighter. “You don’t have to tell me why, but I figured that I could at least pamper you a little, maybe take your mind off of it.” Delicately placing a kiss to his kutte, you pull away, hands wandering around his middle and snaking up to cup Bishop’s cheeks.
“You deserve to be pampered and loved on the same way you do with me.” With that, you guide his head down as you push up on your toes to meet him in a kiss.
Softly and slowly, your lips glide across his, pecking him once, then twice before he’s gripping your waist tighter and pulling you further into him. With this angle, Bishop is able to plant a down-right filthy kiss to your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth to caress your own. A deep grunt exits Bishop’s mouth when you roll your hips against his, his grip tightening on them.
You have enough sense of mind to pull away before things go further, and you don’t miss the way Bishop damn near pouts.
“Later, I promise,” You whisper, a sly grin morphing onto your face. “I’m not going to ruin your surprise so early.” And with that, you detach yourself from Bishop so you can push him in the direction of the dining room.
This time he does pout, but nods and walks into the dining area while you check on the pie. After deciding that it’s good to stay in for another twenty minutes, you walk into the dining room as well.
Dinner passes quickly, clearly Bishop is trying to get to his surprise as soon as possible, you can tell by the way his hand keeps landing on your thigh. Each time, you laugh and push it off, admonishing him for getting distracted, and reminding him that you are in charge tonight.
Once you’ve both eaten, you shoo Bishop towards your bedroom so you can clean up and finish with dessert, though you have an inkling you won’t actually be eating it tonight.
“Amor!” Bishop calls, bordering on whining.
This causes you to chuckle, while your man is big and scary, there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that he’s soft for you. His bravado fades the second he has you in his arms, his need to love and protect you outweighs anything else. This kind of love, his absolute devotion to you, is what solidified in your mind that you need to treat him as well. It’s only fair, after all.
Finally you make your way into the bedroom, Bishop is sprawled across the bed, arms crossed behind his head and legs spread wide. Again, you chuckle. He’s in a clingy mood, you can tell. Long ago Bishop gave up pretending he didn’t enjoy these nights. While they don’t happen regularly - neither of your schedules allow for that - once he’s accepted this night is about him he indulges in it fully.
You stop yourself at the entryway to your bedroom, leaning your head against the doorframe. The sight before has your breath catching in your throat, no matter how long you’ve been together, Bishop’s beauty never ceases to amaze you. He’s taken off his socks and Kutte, now lying on the bed in just his jeans and a black shirt that may or may not be a size too small for him. You don’t mind it though, his muscles bulging out of the fabric almost makes you want to skip straight to the main event.
“I almost thought you’d leave me hanging,” Bishop says, voice smooth and soft, unlike his usually demanding tone he saves for his brothers. “Y’know, it’s not nice to leave your man waiting.”
“Well I’m sorry, cariño. I didn’t know you needed to be babysat.” Giggling, you saunter over to him, stopping at the edge of the bed and in between Bishop’s legs. Teasingly poking at his jean covered thigh you say, “Besides, I had to get things ready for you.”
At this, Bishop perks up, shifting so he’s sitting up, eye level with your chest. His hands find their way to your hips, not quite squeezing, just holding.
“Ready for what?” His smirk and the quirk of his eyebrow has you immediately pushing him to lie back against the bed again.
“Don’t start, Obispo,” A warning glare is sent his way, and you see his chest rise and fall with the sigh that falls from his lips. “You’re going to lay there and not make any suggestive comments, you’re not going to move, until I say you can.”
Bishop hums, the smirk still present, “Yes ma’am.”
And oh do you like the sound of that, Bishop succumbing to your will and letting you do to him as you please. But you’ll dwell on that later, right now you’re focused on getting him relaxed and happy.
Bishop doesn’t say anything when you kneel, though you know he wants to. Nor does he say anything when you run your hands up his calves, to his thighs, and then to his crotch. Peering up through your lashes, you see a sparkle in Bishop’s eyes, already glossing over from the spell you’re putting him under.
“I love you, you know that?” You’re slow to unbuckle his belt, savoring the power he’s handed over.
“I love your thighs,” You pop the button on his jeans, pulling the zipper down ever so slowly. “They’re so strong, I love sitting on them. At the clubhouse, in our living room, I don’t care where, because in your lap is where I belong.”
Bishop lifts his hips so you can drag his pants down, making sure to keep his boxers in place despite his ever present need for you to wrap your fingers around his cock. Once they’re pulled down to his ankles, you maneuver his legs so you can discard the material, throwing it into the corner of the room. You look up to see his hands clenching, grasping the bedsheets in an attempt to not touch you like you’d requested.
Your hands caress his thighs, down to his calves, and back up again, making sure to press feather-light kisses wherever you want. After the fourth kiss, this time on his inner thigh, you push yourself forward and straddle him, making sure to not brush his half-hard erection.
“I love your stomach,” Your hands tug at Bishop’s shirt, sliding it up so you can caress his stomach and waist. “I love when you let me lay my head here, my arms wrapped around you while you hold me too.” Delicately, you rake your nails down to his pubic bone, the hitch in his breath and the shiver running down his spine does not go unnoticed.
Smiling to yourself, you bend down to place more kisses, starting at his belly button and working upwards to where the edge of his shirt rests just below his pecs. The shirt gets moved higher up, but not yet discarded altogether.
“And this chest,” You sigh dreamily, quickly leaning up to nip at one of his pecs, right above his nipple. Again, he shivers, his hands unclenching and falling limp at his side. “This is my favorite pillow, resting my head and listening to your heart beating calms me like no other.”
Another kiss is placed to his other pec, and on a whim you decide to actually bite down, sucking softly until you’re sure a mark has been left. Another sigh tumbles from his lips, and if you listen hard enough you’d hear the tiniest of whines.
Finally, finally, you maneuver his limbs to take his shirt off, gently letting his arms settle against the bed. You run your arms over his chest and collarbone, down to his biceps so you can massage them. This time, you sigh, love consuming your entire body as you shift to settle directly over his crotch, applying light pressure to his partially hard cock.
It’s almost overwhelming how much you need to show your love for this man, your man.
“And these arms, strong as ever. Able to carry 100 lbs, and hold me close.” Continuing your massage, your hands travel down his forearms, rubbing your thumbs in circular motions. “They make me feel safe, they protect me. When I’m in your arms, no matter where we are, I’m home.” You lift his arms one at a time to place soft kisses to his wrists.
“You are my home. From now until my last day.”
Tears pool in Bishop’s eyes, threatening to spill due to the love surrounding you both like a blanket. You smile wider, moving his hands to your mouth so you can place kisses on his knuckles, kisses onto each of his fingertips, and kisses to his palms.
“Your hands though, they’re something else entirely. Rough and calloused from years of hard work, yet soft and tender when they caress me.” To prove your point, you rest his hands on your hips, the soft grip he holds is merely to let you know that he’s here, forever.
“They give me pleasure like no other man has, no other man could ever. They worship me, grasp me, make me succumb to the pleasure only you can provide.” At this point, tears threaten to spill from your eyes as well. The greatest gift of your life is and always will be Bishop.
But you don’t cry just yet, you’re intent on crying only when he’s finally nestled deep inside of you. Instead, you push yourself forward to graze his lips with your own, pulling back just enough to gaze into your lover's eyes, now closed.
Your hands move to cradle his face, a cheek in each hand so you can lean down and place a kiss to each eyelid.
“And your eyes, so full of love and light, so warm and deep. Two years in and you still look at me with the same love and awe as you did when we first met.” You have to close your eyes now, too overwhelmed with emotion to control the stray tears slipping down your cheeks. You rest your forehead against Bishop’s, simply breathing each other in.
“I’m in love with you, all of you, with my entire being.” Unprompted but not unwelcome, Bishop tilts his head so he can graze your lips again. This time, you indulge him, pecking his lips once, then twice, before pressing a longer, more passionate kiss.
Your lips glide together, moving in harmony. Tongues poking out to tease the other, but not quite delving into the comfortable warmth your mouths provide.
“I love you,” Bishop croaks when you pull back, his entire body slumped into the mattress, at total peace. His eyes open, and you’re surprised by the look in them. Tears drip down the side of his face and there’s a far away look in his warm eyes. It’s like he’s not all the way here, but not the bad kind. Like he’s so relaxed, so at ease, that he’s floating on clouds.
“I love you too, amor,” Is whispered against his lips.
Far too soon for your liking, you lean back and crawl backwards so you’re back on your knees on the floor in between Bishop’s spread legs. He doesn’t seem to mind though, his eyelids drooping down to peer at you.
“And of course, with that, comes loving your cock,” He shudders as you finally peel his boxers off. You toss those aside and quickly take him in your hand, fingers wrapping around his girth before gently massaging it.
Before he can hiss in discomfort from the rough friction, you gather saliva in your mouth and let it fall from your lips, directly onto the tip. You hear Bishop grunt, and that spurs you to keep going. So, you move your hand upwards to massage the saliva around the tip of his cock, slowly working down until his entire length has enough slickness for you to really work your magic.
You’re slow, fingers massaging and gliding up and down, your wrist twisting every so often. The small sighs turn into quiet moans, which then turns into a louder moan as you kiss his tip.
“I’ll never get tired of feeling it deep inside me, holding it, tasting it. If I had it my way, I’d suck your cock for hours on end, let you cum in my mouth as many times as you want.”
This sparks an idea in your brain, and you’re quick to smile innocently up at him while you lick along his cock, following the prominent vein with your tongue. “Maybe we can do that one day, let me suck your cock for hours. I can edge you, perhaps, bring you to the brink of pleasure over and over again until you can’t help but spill your cum down my throat.”
“I’ll drink it all, savor it on my tongue for as long as I can.” Hot breath fans over his cock, causing him to shudder again while he lets out an even louder moan.
Delicately, you place another kiss to the tip of his cock, then press kisses all along his length, stopping every so often to suckle, sometimes even nipping at the sensitive appendage.
He’s rock hard by now, standing proud against his stomach, tip red and angry as pre-cum smears across his belly. Then, you quickly swipe your tongue down over his balls, sucking one into your mouth while cupping the other. You moan, and Bishop swears under his breath, the vibrations sending shockwaves down his spine. Moving to the other, suck it into your mouth as well, humming and suckling until you’re sure he might cum.
You don’t want him to cum just yet, you need to feel it buried deep in your pussy, need to feel him fill your cunt so much that it drips down your thighs. That thought is what motivates you to crawl up his body, covering Bishop’s body with yours. Your arms cage him in - not like he’d want to leave them anyway - and your hips settle down over full hard cock.
Only now is he able to feel that you’re not wearing panties, your bare crotch pressed into his. Slowly and teasingly you pull your shirt up your chest, untangling them from your arms so you can toss them aside, all the while looking down at Bishop. His eyes have opened fully now, mouth hanging open as he takes in the sight before him.
With your breasts now on display, your surprise is revealed, showing two-day fresh nipple piercings. It’s nothing fancy, just the simple silver bars they first pierce with. They’re also pretty tender and sore, and you know Bishop is going to have a hard time not playing with them immediately. But you can tell Bishop loves them nonetheless.
“No touching,” You admonish, seeing his hands reach forward to instead cup your breasts. Bishop massages them, careful not to disturb the piercings while also itching to touch at least part of you.
“Can’t help it, querida,” Bishop rasps, running his tongue along his bottom lip before biting into the soft flesh. “You’re just so damn beautiful.”
Feeling flushed, you rest your hands on top of his, guiding his movements while swiveling your hips. Bishop hisses, his eyes clenching shut as you swivel just right so his cock slides between your folds. The slick your pussy is leaking out coats him, the tip of his cock nudging your clit with every motion.
You both moan at this, the friction is delicious. Swiveling your hips more, faster, you have to abruptly stop yourself before you cum too early. Then, you’re lifting your hips and grasping his cock. Bishop’s hands continue their assault on your breasts leaning up to kiss and suck on them as he feels his cock finally slip into your folds.
While you wanted to tease him a little longer, the burning in your core pushes you to align him with your dripping pussy. As soon as the head of his cock breaches your hole, both of you let out sighs of relief. You’re slow to settle on him fully because, no matter how many times you have sex, you’ll never be used to how big he actually is.
“God I love you,” Bishop says, winded. His hands have made themselves comfortable on your hips, guiding you down until you’re seated on his crotch, pussy filled to the brim.
“I love you, Obispo,” You whisper back, leaning your head back and planting your hands on his chest so you can rock your hips in time with Bishop’s breathing.
Swiveling your hips faster, you lift up and sink down onto his cock again, rolling against him every time you’re fully connected. Your hands that are pressed against Bishop’s chest clench, fingernails digging into his flesh, causing him to hiss. It’s clearly not unpleasant, you know this as soon as his cock twitches deep inside you. Throwing your head further back and arching every so slightly so you can bounce with vigor.
“Bish - oh!” You’re crying out when Bishop cants his hips upwards, his grip on your hips tightening.
“Feels good, huh querida?” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know Bishop is smirking, the cockiness in his tone tells you everything you need to know.
“Yes, oh god yes,” Whimpering and forcing yourself to bounce faster, you can tell you’re almost ready to cum. But, deciding to tease both of you further, the next time you sink down you stay put, not even grinding against his crotch.
One of Bishop’s hands slides to your back and down to your ass, kneading and massaging the supple flesh while simultaneously trying to get you to pick up the pace. You don’t. Instead, you force yourself to stay put, sinking your claws deeper into Bishop’s chest as you look down at him with a smirk of your own.
“But what did I tell you earlier?” You ask, cocking your head to the side and rocking back and forth at a torturously slow pace. “I am in charge tonight. Which means you’re going to stay put and let me lead.��
Before Bishop gets a chance to reply, you lift up until just the tip of his cock is in you and shove yourself back down. The moans he lets out are downright filthy, pornographic almost. They’re nothing compared to yours though, because as soon as you lift up and sink back down, his cock hits the soft, spongy patch hidden in your walls.
It really is tortuous though, every so often you’re stopping to just rock against him, Bishop’s hand still planted firmly on your ass. Through the fog in your brain, you look down and register the glossy look that has once again filled Bishop’s eyes. Now, deciding to up the ante, one of your hands travels to his pectoral, rubbing your fingertips over and around his left nipple.
“Honey,” Bishop whispers, and you can tell his brain is fogging over. And then, he does the one thing you never thought he’d say. “Please, querida.”
A loud, choked off moan tumbles from your lips, hearing Bishop ask, beg, for more sends you even higher into your bliss. With renewed vigor, you decide to ease his pain, riding him in earnest. With each snap of your hips downward, he hits that same spot over and over again, your own eyes filling with tears as the fire in your core burns brighter.
“That’s it baby, god you’re so fucking beautiful,” Bishop says, eyes nearly rolling back into his head when you scratch lightly over his nipple.
“You gonna cum?” You tease, bringing his hand from your hip to your front, guiding it down until his thumb brushes over your clit.
“Gonna fill me up? Pump me so full of your cum that it leaks out? I want it so bad, baby, need it.” You’re vaguely aware of the words spilling from your mouth, definitely not aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks as you feel the coil in your belly tighten.
“Make me cum, Bishop. Make me cum and I’ll let you fill me up as much as you need.” He clearly doesn’t need any further prompting, because his thumb starts rubbing furiously against your clit. Shockwaves shoot down your spine, snapping your hips down at an almost inhuman speed.
And with a perfectly timed thrust, your vision whites out, everything going blurry as you cum. And it’s not even that, you’re more so squirting, your juices coating his lap and the bedsheets underneath. You let Bishop help guide your hips, unsteadily rocking and jumping against him.
“Now, Bishop,” You pinch his nipple, one hand slithering up his chest to wrap around his throat, not quite squeezing. “Cum in me. Now.”
And he does, he cums with the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard him emit. You can feel him shooting his sperm into your womb, his cock nudging against your cervix.
It takes maybe a full minute before Bishop stops cumming, clearly so pent up with emotions and lust that he can’t seem to stop himself. Not that you mind, of course, seeing Bishop lose himself so completely brings you greater pleasure than your own orgasm. It takes another three minutes before he lets you go, gingerly lifting off of his cock to slump onto the bed next to him.
Bishop is breathing erratically, his soft cock still twitching due to the aftershocks of his orgasm. But finally, once he’s calm enough to speak, his voice is soft and slow.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was,” He rasps out. “But that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
You chuckle, too spent to do anything else but admire your man as his head lolls to the side to stare into your eyes.
“So, you wanna try that again?” You tease, your hand reaching for his to squeeze it comfortingly.
“Fuck yes.”
You’ll worry about cleaning up later, for now you’re content to lay next to Bishop, gazing into each other’s eyes until you drift into a deep slumber.
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Gentle Kind Of Love Masterlist
Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a gentle kind of love.
Mayans MC Masterlist
Contains: Fluff, angst, longing, pining and yearning, Angel being a shit-stirrer, Manny being dumb, cats, violence, mentions of drugs and drug addiction, shooting and death, Canche, smut. There will be more, and I'll do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed something.
More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is. Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical/forensic💉 Triggering material🚩
You and Coco meet overseas when you are doing aid work. When you move to Santo Padre to settle down, your life changes forever when you and Manny strike up a friendship.
Part One - Oh Hello❤❤😨
Part Two - There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere.😨❤❤
Part Three - Been Known in is Aching😨❤😨❤
Part Four - On Yearning❤😨😨
Part Five - Like Real People Do😨❤😨❤
Part Six - I Adore You😨❤💦
Epilogue - Fell in Love with the Fire Long Ago❤💦❤💦
#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans#mayans fx#manny mayans imagine#manny mayans x you#manny mayans#manny mayans x female reader#manny montana#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfic#fluff#a gentle kind of love#angel reyes#ez reyes#hank loza#neron creeper vargas#gilly lopez#bishop losa#michael riz ariza#johnny coco cruz#hope#leticia cruz
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Obispo.”
pairing. obispo “bishop” losa x reader
content. domestic fluff, established relationship
word count. 0.4k
a/n. this is an old draft from when i was first watching the show last year. i was am a bishop girlie and this is very self-indulgent.
“You should grow your hair out again,” you murmured, fingers brushing through Obispo’s hair. Sun poured in through the window and onto the bed. You’ve been awake for much longer, appreciating having a simple morning in bed for once. Not to mention your more-than-overworked husband.
“Mmh,” he hummed, sluggishly turning to face you, messy hair now brushed out of his eyes. “You think so?”
Obispo was one of the deepest sleepers you’ve ever met. Anytime you slept at his house, you’d wake up with pillows on the floor, sheets kicked off to the edge of the mattress, and strong arms wrapped around your waist, tempting to keep you there for the rest of the day. And today, you think you just might.
“Yeah, around the sides especially. Maybe over your ears. It’d look nice. More rugged.”
Obispo rolled onto his back, hand on his chest. “Thought I was already rugged. I’m hurt, querida.”
“Hm,” you leaned in closer, resting your hands on your palms, “Maybe to the others. Maybe ‘Bishop’ is. But Obispo? Not so much.” Your voice was slow, still a little raspy from sleep. Even though you were joking about it now, you did love that you could have this softer piece of him that no one else did.
“Oh, yeah? And what’s Obispo like, then?”
“He’s,” You took a pause, collecting your thoughts. They felt cluttered and busy on your tongue. And yet, you continued anyway, too distracted by watching Obispo’s profile catching the sunlight to think about it further. “Kind. Genuine. Honest. Stubborn as hell, but considerate. Charming. And…” You trailed off, still lightly tracing shapes into his scalp.
“And?” He looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, grinning, basking in the compliments. Another thing you loved was how much lighter he acted when you two were together. Like the weights rolled off of him as soon as he took off his kutte. You didn’t talk about his past years as a Mayan as much as you’d like, but you were willing to give him as much time as needed.
You leaned off of your hand, brushing a section of hair you were playing with before off of his forehead. As Obispo’s lidded eyes closed for a blink, you finally took the chance to steal a kiss. Long enough to let him know you weren’t just doing it to do it. Long enough for him to rest a free hand on the small of your back. Long enough for you to feel him smile against your lips.
“And,” you repeated, “mine.”
#mayans mc#bishop losa#obispo losa#bishop mayans mc#mayans mc x reader#bishop losa x reader#obispo losa x reader
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
October Requests
2024 Fall/Halloween requests
Requests will be open until October 31st.
Completed requests will be linked at the bottom
♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎
Rules for making a request:
★ Send me one mood & a character from the lists below.
☆ And 3 words of your choice that I must include in the one shot
★ Be following me.
♥︎ These gifts are only for my followers ♥︎
☆ please like, comment, and reblog your completed submission or future requests may be denied.
★ Only submissions sent as an ask will be accepted. I do NOT accept anonymous requests
☆ One request at a time, please.
♥︎ As soon as it's done & you reblog, you can send in another request ♥︎
Characters to choose from:
🎃 Jax Teller
🎃 Opie Winston
🎃 Juice Ortiz
🎃 Chibs Telford
🎃 Tig Trager
🎃 Herman Kozik
🎃 Happy Lowman
🎃 Marcus Alvarez
🎃 Angel Reyes
🎃 EZ Reyes
🎃 Coco Cruz
🎃 Che 'Taza' Romero
🎃 Hank Loza
🎃 Bishop Losa
🎃 Gilly Lopez
🎃 Nestor Oceteva
🎃 Neron Vargas
Mood:
💀 Fluff
💀 Angst
💀 Goofy
💀 Suggestive
💀 Random
Completed Requests:
1. Goofy, Chibs Telford, Candy, Costume, Scary movie
2. Fluff, Juice Ortiz, Pumpkin, Cat, Purple
3. Random, Gilly, cheesecake, spoon, messy
4. Goofy, Happy, costume, party, contest
5. Suggestive, Angel, black, eyes, water
6. Fluffy, Opie, scary, sexy, mine
7. Suggestive, Coco, red, chill, thunder
8. Suggestive, Manny, purple, love, sultry
9.
10.
Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @youngadult9016 @meera10
#sons of anarchy#samcro#soa#sons of anarchy x reader#juice ortiz#happy lowman#opie winston#jax teller#tig trager#chibs telford#mayans mc x reader#mayans x reader#hank loza#bishop losa#coco cruz#creeper vargas#gilly lopez#ez reyes#angel reyes#mystical mallard 2024 october requests
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
2. Chocolate 🍫
Summary: You’re making Valentines Day treats for the club and Bishop is your taste tester, but one can only eat so much chocolate.
Pairing: Bishop Losa x female reader
Warnings: none, all fluff
Word count: 435
"This one is the strawberry."
You plopped the tiny chocolate into Bishop's mouth, eyes on him as he chewed and then nodded, able to taste the tartness of the strawberry as it blended with the sweetness of the chocolate.
"It's good."
He spoke carefully, not wanting the syrup to run out of his mouth again like it had on the last two. You grinned, happy that he liked this one as well. You were making chocolates to take to the clubhouse for Valentine's Day, and of course, Bishop was your taste tester. You were trying different variations of fruit and other flavors to mix with the chocolates and while they were delicious, Bishop was starting to get a rush, this now being the seventh piece of chocolate you had shoved into his mouth. He watched as you turned around and plucked another one out of the tray, turning to face him again for what felt like the millionth time.
"This one is orange."
The Mayan groaned and he didn't miss the small frown that showed up on your lips
"What's the matter? You don't think you'll like the orange one? I know it's different but it's a good combination, I promise. It's refreshing."
Bishop chuckled and reached for your chocolate-free hand, lacing his fingers with yours tenderly.
"I believe you, mama. I swear I do. I'm sure that one is just as good as the last ones, if not better, but if I eat one more piece of chocolate I'm gonna throw up."
"Oh."
You laughed nervously, putting the orange creamsicle-flavored chocolate back down onto the tray.
"I'm sorry. I have given you a bunch to try. Kinda lost track."
Bishop laughed again, hand squeezing yours again. He reached for the piece himself and held it up to your lips instead this time, smiling as you ate the tiny heart. You gave a soft sound of approval and beamed as you looked at him.
"That one's good too. They're all good. Hope I didn't give you a stomachache."
Bishop shook his head, eyes twinkling as they looked at you with love. Love for your talents, love for your creativity, love for you working so hard to make treats for his brothers. He loved you. Well and truly. His lips were sweet as they pressed against yours ever so gently.
"No stomachache. But maybe you should come lay down with me on the couch for a bit. Just in case one starts up."
You traced the white hairs at the center of his beard with a smile.
"I think I can spare an hour or so."
General taglist
@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @gangstaliciou06
Mayans MC taglist
@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @myakai13
@cruzwalters @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty @lyly00 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @90sisthenew80s @lovelytricia @librarian1002
#imagines#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa#mayans#mayans imagine#valentines day drabble event#mayans mc
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
💋February Kisses & 4K Followers Drabble Request Event!💋
❤️
February is for fluff and love, and this kisses prompt list is just too cute so I decided to use it for my requests for part 2 of my 4K follower celebration event and just to share some love here too!
I can’t believe I hit such a huge milestone it feels unreal!!! Thank you all sooo much for following me and supporting my works and for sticking around!!! I’m sending all the love right back at y’all!!! ❤️💖❤️💖❤️💖❤️
Using this prompt list send in a request for a short drabble (500-1k words I’m guessing, depending on how many I get) to be posted throughout the month of February to celebrate! Requests for this will be open from now, Feb 1 until February 7! Requests now closed!
I will not be using my taglist for this so please also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications to stay up to date! @flightlessangelwings-updates
QUICK RULES! Please read these before sending in anything!
- Please be following me to send in a request. Anon is fine just please use the honor system. And NO MINORS! My blog is 18+ only so minors please so not follow or interact!
- Please reblog your request!
- Please copy the entire prompt in your ask. Multiple requests are ok but please don’t overwhelm with too many.
- Please let me know what type of drabble you want: fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, etc. Feel free to ask for something more specific too! If you want a specific type of reader (gn, fem, plus size, bi, Latine, etc) please let me know!
- I’ll be taking requests for the following characters only:
Pedro characters- Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Comandante Veracruz, Javier Peña, Javi Gutierrez, Pero Tovar, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Ezra
Star Wars- Poe Dameron, Cassian Andor, Fennec Shand, Boba Fett, Cobb Vanth, Kino Loy, Cal Kestis
Marvel- Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Loki, Tasm!Peter Parker, Frank Castle, Carol Danvers, Sam Wilson
Others- Tommy Miller, Benny Miller, Santiago Garcia, Bishop Losa, Angel Reyes, Dream of the Endless, Thirteenth Doctor
Specific parings and thruples- MPoA (Frankie/reader/Benny), Neighbor!Steven Grant, Veracruz/Cariño, DinCobb/reader, Joel/reader/Frankie, Javi G/Estrella, BobaDin/reader
- This is a list of things I do not write for. Please respect my boundaries and do not ask for anything on this list. It will be deleted and ignored.
Real people fic
Pregnancy/breeding/lactation/kids/anything similar
Age gaps, including teacher/student
Virginity/innocence kink
Daddy kink
Sick fics/illness
Priest au or anything religious
A/B/O
- Please use a heart emoji at the end of your ask so I know you read all of this! Asks without one will not be answered. Thank you! 💖
#din djarin x reader#joel miller x reader#javier peña x reader#javi gutierrez x reader#marcus pike x reader#marcus moreno x reader#frankie morales x reader#santiago garcia x reader#benny miller x reader#pero tovar x reader#poe dameron x reader#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#frank castle x reader#cassian andor x reader#the mandalorian x reader#boba fett x reader#dream of the endless x reader#Loki x reader#carol danvers x reader#angel reyes x reader#cobb vanth x reader#dincobb x reader
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
400 Follower Celebration Sleepover Masterlist
expose, stir, leadership | Stuart Scola
fear, love, emergency | Kevin Atwater
fluff, sick, kiss | OA Zidan
sister, protective, love | OA Zidan
scar, bench, entrance | Juice Ortiz
hands, love, tremble | Dante Torres
suit, soft, whisper | Robert "Bob" Floyd
protect, sacrifice, obligation | OA Zidan
cart, gravel, fish | Jax Teller
change, embrace, locked | Marcus Alvarez
scooting, deep, view | Nestor Oceteva
helping, collar, abide | Bishop Losa
pyramid, cycle, beginning | Dante Torres
frog, burial, play | Terry Bruno
village, panic, garbage | Mike Duarte
stadium, ally, chart | Kevin Atwater
tender, warmth, closeness | Scott Forrester
fight, dress, drive | Gilly Lopez
scoop, paralyzed, tug | Kevin Atwater
comforter, switch, trickle | Gilly Lopez
paint, leaves, chain | Gilly Lopez
#400 drabble event#fbi cbs#chicago pd#sons of anarchy#stuart scola#kevin atwater#oa zidan#juice ortiz#dante torres
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Below is a link to questions about requests!
Questions About Requests
Below is a link to my masterlist!
Masterlist - The masterlist is updated right after I post a new fic so it’s always up to date!
Below is a link to my taglist form!
Taglist - Fill it out so you never miss your faves!
What categories do I write?
Fluff
Hurt/Comfort
Comfort
Angst
What fandoms do I write for? Who in those fandoms do I write for?
Wrestling - You can ask me and I’ll let you know if I do or don’t.
AEW - Majority.
Impact - Majority.
NJPW - Select ones because I’m not caught up yet.
WWE - Select ones because I don’t really watch anymore, but I catch the highlights from Twitter and Instagram.
Law and Order: SVU - Seasons Watched: All
Nick Amaro, Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Mike Dodds, Peter Stone, Joe Velasco, and Terry Bruno
Sons of Anarchy - Seasons Watched: All
Jax Teller, Juice Ortiz, Opie Winston, Chibs Telford, Tig Trager, Half Sack, David Hale, Herman Kozik, and Ratboy
Mayans MC - Seasons Watched: All
EZ Reyes, Angel Reyes, Coco Cruz, Gilly Lopez, Bishop Losa, Hank Loza, Manny, Marcus Alvarez, Miguel Galindo, Creeper Vargas, Nestor Oceteva, and Riz Ariza.
#guide info#information details#who i write for#fandoms i write for#wrestling#aew#all elite wrestling#impact wrestling#wwe#njpw#law and order svu#sons of anarchy#soa#mayans mc#mayans
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
Random ask game letter generator:
Let’s go with the letters
K, R, D, L, E
Ahh thank you for these!
K. Who have you killed this year? Why did they have to die?: Ohhhhh baby I was picking them off left and right this year! 😂 Some of my most notable deaths IMO: Bishop Losa in Personal Business. He had to die because if the canon narrative wasn't going to punish him for his crimes, I was going to punish him. EZ Reyes in Alive. He had to die because my brain simply said it was his time and it would make for a very sad story. And I was right. Walt Breslin in Last Chance. He had to die because it was the only way that he was ever going to get out of the vicious cycle that he was in. And last, but never least, Carrillo in Losing Sight. He had to die because the reality of it is that sometimes relationships will never get closure. C'est la vie.
I've also had a couple fics this year where reader is the one who dies. Love that. Can't wait to see who gets taken out in 2023!
R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch? Which would it be? What would you do to it?: Okay, so I think that the one at the top of my list to rework would be my Tig fic Convince Me. I don't hate it by any means. But it was a whumptober fic so I was cranking out a fic a day, on a bit of a time-crunch. If I could go back and redo it with more time, I think I would just explore things differently. It's not my worst fic, but it's not one that I'm super confident about either. I was trying to get out of my comfort zone and it was definitely hard. But! It could've been worse 😂
D. Any drawings or pictures that had a bit influence on your writing?: I answered this one Here. But! Outside of the picture that I shared there, I will say that while on the hunt for faceclaims for OCs I always end up getting super inspired.
L. Which character did you write most this year? Why do you like them?: Ohhhh this is an interesting one because I had absolutely no idea! 😂 My assumption is to say that I've written more for EZ Reyes and Horacio Carrillo than anyone else this year. But to be fair I bounce around a lot between characters and fandoms lol. And I like them both for similar reasons. I love fictional men who get carried away with their atrocities and don't try to pretend that they're not. Like yes, king, fly off the handle I love you. I can do extreme angst with them or sickening fluff. I love having all the options!
E. Who's your favorite main character you've written?: I gotta say, that writing EZ feels like putting on my favorite t-shirt. It just feels right, you know???? I have fun with all of my guys but EZ is just so easy for me to tap into. Runner-ups: Walt Breslin, Juice Ortiz, and Horacio Carrillo, my beloveds.
End of the Year Writing Asks!
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
1 note
·
View note
Text
There's Gotta Be Some Butterflies Somewhere.
Mayans MC Masterlist
Part two of A Gentle Kind of Love.
Contains: Fluff, mutual pining, angst (endless longing, Canche) slow burn, violence, flashbacks in italics. Cannabis use.
6.7K words
Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #a gentle kind of love.
"So if you will. Please fall in love with me"
You arrived at the Clubhouse just as everything was getting busy, Angel running up to you with a smile, "you came."
You nodded, "I did, can I get this over with?"
His smile widened, "come on, Marcus is excited to meet you." Angel walked over and introduced you, "Marcus, this is y/n, y/n this is Marcus."
You stuck out your hand, "hello, I've heard so much about you."
He smiled, "yeah, and I've heard a lot about you. The guys really love you."
You smiled back, "only because I indulge their ideas."
You turned to the woman next to him, she was poised and put together, her gentle smile glowing in the afternoon sun, "Marcus must be your husband."
Izzy smiled and took your hand, "I like this woman, you're my husband for once instead of me being your wife."
"Well behind every successful man."
Marcus chuckled, "I can see why they like you."
You sat down on the bench next to Angel, "so what do you do for a living?" Izzy seemed curious and you looked at Angel with suspicion.
"I am a psychologist."
Marcus raised his eyebrows, "wow. Looks like EZ might have some competition."
You laughed, "never, I might have a great memory but I took the milk out of the fridge yesterday then went looking for it two seconds later."
"And funny too. Do you have a specialty?"
You nodded, "complex trauma. Not the best but I love my job."
A quiet came over briefly, "are you seeing anyone?" Izzy's tone was neutral.
Now you were sure Angel was talking, "nope, just me and my three cats." Angel choked on his beer.
"Oh, you fucker. What did you tell them?"
He threw his hands in the air, "nothing, I might have brought up that you and Manny were getting along well when Marcus came to see how he was settling in."
You kicked him quickly under the table, "what was that for?"
You turned to Marcus and Izzy, "I'm sorry about that, Angel doesn't know what he's talking about and is sticking his head where it doesn't belong."
Marcus shook his head, "ignore him y/n. Tell me more about your work."
As the afternoon wore on, you forgot you didn't want to be there. Manny was busy with other Mayans and you had managed to dodge him, that was until you and Izzy returned from taking some of the kids for a walk around the area. He was standing right by the doors as you walked in. You waved at him with a soft smile and he waved back but any hopes of him being too busy to talk were dashed as he came walking over to you.
"Hey Tesoro, long time no see."
You nodded, "yes, three weeks to be exact." You did your best to try and keep it casual but he wrapped his arms around you and you melted into his embrace.
"I missed talking to you."
You smiled, "yeah, I missed you too." Your phrasing gave him pause, but he didn't mention it.
"You wanna get a drink?"
You nodded, "I'd like that."
Izzy and Marcus watched on from afar, "Angel is right, those two are in love."
Izzy smiled, "I can see that. She's a nice woman, she's good with kids and she seems to have her head on straight. You said Manny and EZ are the future of the Club, I can see her standing behind him."
Marcus smiled, "they've got to get there first."
Manny had his arm looped over your shoulder, "you run into Canche yet?"
Manny clicked his tongue, "that fucker, he better hope I don't"
It was no secret why Manny transferred, Canche let something slide that made most people homicidal. "You were his VP Manny, he's going to want answers above what you gave him when you handed in your papers."
He huffed, "I don't think he wants to hear what I have to say about him."
You smiled softly, "oh well, I won't hesitate to tell him what I think about him."
Manny smiled, "I can't wait to see that. Can I ask you a question?"
You nodded, "you just did but sure."
"You and the prospect, what went on there?"
You sighed, "Coco never said anything?"
He shook his head, "Angel let it slip that you climbed out the window one night but that's it."
Your eyebrows wrinkled, someone must have talked, "we just didn't gel like that."
He nodded, "really, because he had a lot to say about you."
"I'm aware, Coco called me. Whatever he said, he's lying, I didn't have sex with him."
Manny hid his smile, "I'm glad, the other women don't seem to like him much and you deserved to be looked after."
You huffed cynically, "wow, if only every man had your attitude."
He smirked, it was laced with charm and seduction, "oh really, well there's..."
"You two seem cosy." It was Canche, coming to ruin the day.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" You tried to stay calm.
He looked you up and down, "I'm his old President."
You smiled nasty, "oh, the guy who doesn't think certain people should be strung up by their scrotums and bled dry like the pigs they are. Can I help you?"
Canche blinked, "who do you think you are?"
Manny stepped in front of you and stood over the man, he had at least four inches on him, "someone who's a lot better than you." His tone was calm and not in a good way. You put your hand on his shoulder in hopes of getting him to relax but he didn't seem to notice.
"I think you need to walk away before things get bloody, Manny had every right to leave after what you did and I don't blame him. As for outsiders knowing about it, you can't complain, people talk when shit like that happens."
Canche's face got nasty, "you need to pull in your bitch, that kind of shit wouldn't fly in Yuma."
You were grateful you saw Manny's reaction in slow motion because you managed to step in and stop it before Manny's fist found Canche's face. There was no way you could have prevented a fight if Manny really wanted one to happen, you could feel the strength coiled behind his lean muscle. You took his face in your hands and put yourself between Manny and Cache, "Manny listen to me. You have very nice hands, his face isn't worth it."
Canche went to speak and you cut him off, spinning on your heel to face him, "he has four inches on you and he's younger and fitter, this doesn't end well for you if a fight starts. Now walk away before you get yourself hurt." Something about your tone must have knocked some sense into him because he was walking off in a huff.
"You good?"
Manny swallowed, "that fucker...." You put your hand on his chest.
"That fucker has a higher rank than you, you can't just hit him." You were hoping he'd listen.
Manny calmed down and smirked at you, "you think I have nice hands?"
You thumped his chest, "grow up."
He threw his arm back over your shoulder and walked you into the Clubhouse, "come on Tesoro, I want to introduce you to the Yuma guys I like."
"I told you so, she's got a good head on her shoulders."
Marcus smiled at his wife, "I'll talk to Bishop and see what's going on there."
Someone cleared their throat, "you can try but Bish is pretty fed up, he might just yell at you."
They turned their heads, Angel was standing there sipping on a beer, his face neutral.
"Where did you come from?" Marcus looked around like Angel had come from a puff of smoke.
He shrugged, "I want them to be happy."
Being with Manny was effortless, you didn't even notice how things felt like nothing had changed, like you hadn't talked to each other in weeks. "They are far superior, I don't know how you can even stomach store bought tomatoes when you've had the ones I've grown."
He smiled, "I ain't saying that sweetheart, I'm saying that I can't come to your house and raid your garden every time I want dinner."
"That's fair, but you're going to have to cook for me now just to prove you can."
He chuckled, "alright, I suppose you're right, I've eaten plenty of your food. I should pay you back."
You smiled, "I like the sound of that, what's on the menu?"
He thought for a minute, "what do you like?"
This was starting to feel like something else, "I'll eat anything but I'm a salt addict so that makes it easy for you."
He nodded, "great, you bring the fresh stuff and I'll cook it."
You smiled, "I like the sound of that. I didn't even know you could cook."
He huffed, "I live all by my lonesome, I can't be eating takeout every day."
You smiled, "wow, handsome and capable."
You released what you said just after you said it, "you think I'm handsome?"
"Oh shut up Emmanuel."
He chuckled, "so I'm Emmanuel now, there anything else you want to tell me?"
Oh, so much. "Nope, nothing." Your mind was racing, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out again.
"You look like your having fun." You had never been so happy to hear Angel's voice.
"How do you keep appearing out of nowhere?"
He shrugged, "aren't you glad I convinced you to come?"
You nodded, "I am. But Canche's a dick."
Angel cocked his head in agreement, "yeah, we know."
Manny sighed, "if Marcus doesn't do something about him, Yuma's going to go to pieces."
Angel tutted, "maybe that's for the best, the rot starts at the top."
You nodded, "Angel's right Manny, if the culture of the charter was different, Canche wouldn't have even thought about being on that monster's side. I'm sure you can think of times when that kind of attitude has been extended to other members. You wouldn't have transferred if it was a one time thing."
Manny smiled, "you're know more than you let on, don't you?"
"I'm very observant."
Angel shook his head, "not observant enough."
You sighed, you didn't have the energy to deal with Angel being cryptic. "I'm gonna get us some beer, you want something y/n?"
You nodded, "just a water please." Angel headed to the bar, leaving you and Manny alone again.
"You don't drink?"
You shook your head, "I get migraines, so no, I don't."
Manny grunted in sympathy, "shit, that sucks."
You sighed, "yeah, it does."
Manny reached out and put his hand on your knee, "thank you for believing me."
He smiled, "wow, you must have encountered some assholes if you're thanking me for that."
You nodded, "yep."
Angel returned with a curious look on his face, "we good here?"
His eyes moved to Manny's hand on your leg and Manny removed it to take the beer from him, "yep, all good." You nodded your head quickly in agreement.
The food came out about an hour later, and you all headed up to get a plate. People were drunk now and the talking got louder and less casual. It was the reek of cheap whiskey that clued you in that someone was standing closer than they should be. You turned your head and were met with a very drunk Canche, "you right there?"
He shook his head and sipped his drink, "I wanna know why you're so interested in a traitor."
You could feel Manny stiffen behind you, "I don't need to explain anything to you, stop ruining my night."
He spun and faced you and Coco grabbed Manny's elbow and spoke softly to him, "she can handle herself."
You stepped back and crossed your arms, "did you not hear me, what are you still standing here for, you have your food, you don't need to bother me."
He huffed, "you have spent the whole night strutting around like you own the place, I wanna know where it comes from."
You bit the inside of your cheek, "you're projecting, now walk away, I will not hesitate to protect myself."
The room had gone quiet, everyone paying attention to you and Canche "Oh, you're so big and tough, I bet you beg....." That was the last straw, you acted faster than Canche could think, your fist coming to strike his throat. You pushed him against the bar and got close to his face.
"The last man to mention me begging isn't adjusting well to being blind on account of my thumbs going into his eyeballs. Do not give me a reason to alleviate you of yours."
Someone went to step forward but you stopped by the sound of a gun coming out of its holster, "come any closer to me and he loses his foot. I want to finish my conversation."
Manny swallowed and glanced away from the scene, turning to Coco, "I didn't know she carried."
Coco shrugged, "I think that was the point bro."
Canche was shocked, he was smart enough to know how this would go if he stepped wrong, "I think you are the worst kind of person, you aren't just a monster, you help monsters hurt children because you're too greedy to make the call, and it's not even a hard call. I have nothing to say to you and no reason to explain myself."
Angel was standing with Marcus along the front wall, watching on in amusement, "you want me to do something about that?"
Marcus shook his head, "nah, Canche should have taken Manny leaving as a hint to humble himself."
You let him up and he adjusted his kutte, looking around for support but finding none, "you got a mouth on you."
The kick to his testicles had him going down like a lead balloon and then Manny was pulling you away, "hey, y/n. That's enough."
Canche pushed himself up and went to speak, but the look in your eyes had him second guessing, "go off and lick your wounds, don't make me take action you'll really regret." He hobbled away and the music kicked back on, Manny was standing there wide eyed and impressed.
"Wow, I didn't know you had that in you."
You smiled, "there's a lot you don't know about me Emmanuel."
Knock knock
Manny opened the door with a smile and you lifted the bag of fresh fruits and vegetables, "hello."
He took the bag from your hand, "hi, please come in."
You threw off your shoes and walked in, looking around his cosy apartment, "wow, you are clean."
He smiled and put the bag on the counter, "is that a surprise?"
You nodded, "for the most part, no offence but most men I know who live alone only change their sheets once a year."
He screwed up his face in disgust, "oh that is so gross."
He started unpacking and opened the fridge, getting out a jug of water before offering it to you, "and gold star service, what's on the menu tonight?"
He smirked and smelled the herbs, "with all this? something really good."
You sighed, "so it's a surprise?"
Manny nodded, "yep, you wanna help?"
"Of course I do." He slid an onion across the table then handed you a knife and a cutting board, he watched you as you cut it, "ok, I'm very impressed, a clean house, cold water and a knife so sharp it could cut bone. You are very capable."
He grinned, "wait until you eat the food."
He crushed the garlic under his palm then ran his own knife through it, "I'm happy you're choosing to season your food, I would stop being friends with you if you only used one clove."
He snorted, "I wouldn't blame you. You've been everywhere, what's your favourite dish?"
You thought for a moment, "ooo, that's hard. Like I told you, I'm a salt fiend so I love salt baked stuff. I have this salt baked chicken in France that I ate almost every day. I managed to get the recipe, needless to say, I have to stop myself from cooking it all the time."
He licked his lips, "shit that sounds good, you better cook it next time we all come over. What about sweets?"
"Chocolate mud cake, made with buttermilk, browned butter and lots and lots of chocolate."
He moaned, "ok, enough. You're making me drool."
You chuckled, "wait till you walk into the house and smell the chicken cooking, it creates this super salty juice that is amazing on fresh rice…"
He threw a tea towel at you with a smile, "you're making me feel inadequate."
You pressed your lips together to stop a laugh, "first time?"
He smirked, "maybe." You couldn't hold it any longer and neither could Manny, his face split into a grin as you started to laugh. You both laughed until you ran out of breath, then the oven timer sang.
He was right, the food was amazing. He had cooked a whole spread, a vegetable quiche with veggies from your garden, beef tacos with pickled red onions, a herb and rice dish with chicken broth and the most delicious strawberry tart.
Everything was perfectly seasoned and cooked, by the end, you were stuffed full and happy. "That was delicious."
He smiled, "thank you, I guess now that I've proven I can cook, I'll be helping you all the time?"
You nodded, "yep, there'll be no getting out of it now but it means you'll get the first pick on taking leftovers home. Was this your master plan?"
He held his hands up, "you got me, the only reason I did this is so you'll acknowledge my skills and ask me to help you cook every time."
You smiled, "I'm fine with that."
"What's got you all happy?"
Manny had been smiling all morning, "nothing."
Bishop didn't believe him for one minute, "really? Because you've been grinning like an idiot since you got in this morning, you wanna tell me the truth?"
Manny shook his head, "really, it's….."
Angel sat down next to them with a smile, "so it has nothing to do with your dinner last night?"
Bishop's eyebrows wrinkled, "what?"
Angel smiled, "Manny and the good doctor had dinner at his place last night."
Manny huffed, "it was just dinner, she left after the dessert."
Angel didn't drop his smile, "so it wasn't a date?"
Manny sighed, "no it wasn't. Just because you are an ungrateful asshole doesn't mean I am. I just wanted to thank her for all the cooking she did."
Angel tutted, "you could have taken it to her house, you didn't need to invite her over."
Bishop grunted, "Angel, that's enough. Leave Manny alone."
Angel snorted, "if you say so Bish."
"Ok, what's the worst parent you've dealt with?"
You were thankful that they were talking about work and not your dinner with Manny, "it's always the same one, just in different bodies. I sometimes go to schools to work in severe bullying cases, and the perp's parents go on and on about how good their kid is. Most of the time, I meet parents and the child's behaviour makes so much more sense."
"Gee, do people really fuck up that bad?" You nodded at Gilly's question.
"All the time, parents are so blind that they truly ruin their children but not giving them discipline. As part of a state mandate, I have to work with a certain number of kids on behaviour programs. The parents are the reason whenever I've had to let patients go. Half the time, the kids want to change but part of that is the parents admitting they need to do better and it doesn't happen."
They all seemed to understand, "what about you guys? I'm sure you've had some terrible customers."
They all shared a look before iz answered your question, "demon Dave and his wife. They were hell."
You leaned in, "tell me more."
Riz smiled, "they turn up in their SUV screaming that the odometer was running faster than they drove, turns out, they were both cheating and running it up seeing their side pieces."
"Oh, that's just perfect. How did you find out?"
Taza smiled, "I caught the wife at a cafe. The worst part about is, the husband tried to sue us for emotional damage."
You gasped, "no, what happened?"
Angel sipped his beer with a smile, "it didn't get anywhere, he was also stealing from his work, our lawyer found out and threatened to ruin his life."
Something didn't add up, "how did your lawyer find out?"
Coco smiled, "Chucky."
You smiled, "good old Chucky, God I love that dude."
You had stopped by the garage for an oil change, Coco greeting you with a smile. "You have to meet Chucky, you will love him." While EZ drove your car undercover, Coco walked you into the office and introduced you to the man sitting at the desk.
He stood up and walked over, that was when you saw his hands. Coco didn't wait for you to ask, not that you would, "the Triad cut them off because he couldn't stop touching himself."
You blinked, "CMD miss."
You nodded, "I'm really sorry you struggled with that and I'm sorry someone chopped off your fingers."
He shrugged, "I am healing."
You smiled, "well, that's all that matters. Now I have some time before my car's done and since Coco told me I'd like you, tell me about yourself."
"What about you Manny? I'm sure you have some tails from Yuma."
Manny smiled, "Canche was the only asshole there."
You laughed, "wow, you really don't like the man."
Manny shook his head, "no one does."
Taza agreed, "we don't really like Yuma, to be honest."
You nodded, "I can see that, the tension is palpable when they're here. Are there people I need to be worried about?"
They looked at each other, "you're a smart woman, I'm sure you know without us telling you."
You smiled softly, "yeah, I've noticed that with certain guys, you tend to give the women they're talking to pressing tasks before they head to the dorms. My question is, why doesn't Marcus know that one of his chapters is filled with predators?"
They looked at each other, "we need Yuma, more accurately, Canche is in with some important people."
You sighed, "ahh, now I get it. It sounds like he needs to meet a sticky end and take the rest of the poison with him."
Bishop huffed, "you know, one day those great observation skills are going to get you into trouble."
You raised your eyebrows, "if you were going to kill me for knowing the truth, you would have done it already. The fact is, you know I won't say anything to anyone and I know that lying to you about knowing how you make your money isn't worth the hassle."
"You got some balls, you know that?"
You smiled, "I try Creep."
Manny looked deep in thought, "how did you figure it out?" You smiled, "when I first met you all, Coco had been clean for six months and yet there was Narcan everywhere, that combined with the fact that you always have someone on the line who seems to fix problems without even showing their face kinda clued me in."
Bishop smiled, "you were a bit blunt about it, I think it's the reason I like you so much."
"So, what's your read on us?"
You smiled, "you as people or you as drug dealers?" The Clubhouse was pretty much empty, just some the Santo Padre Mayans and some hang arounds, you were sitting with Manny, Hank and Bishop in the corner so it wasn't like anyone could hear you.
"Don't look so shocked, I'm a doctor, you don't think I can read people like open books?" Bishop blinked and went to respond but you cut him off, "I'm not going to tell on you, this isn't third grade and Coco is my friend. You don't need to worry about me, all I ask is that I never see the drugs."
Hank nodded, "we can do that."
You smiled, "great, then we have an agreement and we can go back to pretending like you're just mechanics and scrap metal dealers."
"Blunt is the only way to be. I spend my whole day finding nice and compassionate ways to say things, it's nice to be able to take off the white coat."
Manny smiled, "that must be hard, always being polite?"
You nodded, "it's harder when I have to go to court, one day I'm going to be on the news for killing a defence attorney."
Angel smiled, "ah, we'll bust you out if you do."
"Fancy seeing your here."
You smiled at the sound of Manny's voice, "well it is the only place to get good meat. I am not buying that package shit from the supermarket."
Manny strode up to the counter, "what's on the menu tonight?"
You sighed, "not for me, I feed my cats raw and they're out of food, they won't eat anything other than Felipe's stuff."
Felipe smiled, "what a ringing endorsement."
Manny nodded, "oh it is, you should see these cats."
Felipe chuckled, "I've seen lots of photos, they are very spoilt."
You shook your head, "what about you?"
He pointed to the spatchcock chicken, "I watched some fancy cooking show last night, I'm gonna do that thing where you cook the chicken under a brick."
"Oh, yum. It's literally called chicken under brick."
Manny laughed, "good to know, have you ever had it?"
You nodded, "once or twice, it's really nice. It's not better than my salt baked one though."
He shook his head, "stop teasing me."
Felipe sighed and handed you your meat while you handed over the cash, "thank you Mr Reyes, they will be very happy with this."
Manny got his chicken and walked out with you, Felipe giving you both a friendly wave goodbye. "I guess I'll see you on Friday?"
You shook your head, "sadly, no. I have a fundraiser on Saturday and as much as I love Fridays, they are kinda draining. I can't do both."
He looked disappointed, "where's the fundraiser?"
You leaned against your car, "Oakland, the Sunshine Road Centre. It's actually like ten minutes from the Clubhouse."
The smile of Manny's face was back, "guess where we are on Saturday?"
You mirrored his smile, "no?"
He nodded, "yep, Marcus wants us there to work out some stuff with the Sons, something about a new gang causing problems."
You nodded, "I thought they were out of the life?"
Manny huffed, "they are, have been for years. It didn't stop someone from sending then a threatening text about us."
You crossed your arms, "that's a worry, maybe it's an old group pissed that Jax gave the guns to the Mayans?"
He shook his head, "nah, they're good with everyone involved in that. The text had something in German, Juice, their tec guy says it was a Nazi thing."
Your eyes went wide, "well shit, that's not good."
He nodded in agreement, "we know, we'll talk to Marcus on Saturday and see if we have to go visit Charming."
"All you can do is wait, will Yuma be there?"
Manny shook his head, "nope, looks like their being frozen out, they had another stepped on batch last week."
You huffed, "as Angel said, the rot starts at the top."
He nodded, "I know. Oh well, even if I don't get to see you on Friday, we might run into each other."
"Maybe, although, I'm not sure if I want the guys to see me in an evening dress. I don't think they'd ever let me live it down."
He laughed, "oh, I know."
You smiled, "have fun for me on Saturday, because I'm going to be surrounded by rich assholes and I doubt I'll last till it ends."
He chuckled, "I will party on your behalf."
Angel saw your car pull away, waving to you from his bike as he pulled into his father's shop. He smiled when he saw Manny texting, swaggering up to him with a smirk, "you planning another dinner?"
Manny shook his head, "no, she was here buying stuff for her cats. What has gotten into you man, are you my fairy godmother or something?"
Angel got a twinkle in his eyes, "your fairy godmother, I like the sound of that."
Manny huffed, "I got to get this meat home, you gotta stop looking so deep into it man, we're just friends."
Angel walked into Felipe's shop, turning behind him, "if you say so."
Felipe had his arms crossed, nodding towards the door, "what was that son?"
Angel shrugged "you tell me pops, you saw them together."
Felipe tutted, "you might be right Angel but you can't force these things, they have to figure it out on their own."
Angel huffed, "and if they don't?"
Felipe shook his head, "they will, don't worry."
Angel smiled, "all I'm saying is, they might need a bit of help."
"Come on man, it's like ten minutes away, we can stop by."
Manny sighed, "she'll be inside, they won't let us in, it's a black tie event."
Coco shrugged, "nah, any bet she'll be outside, she hates that kind of shit."
Angel smiled, "see man, there's no reason not to drive by."
Manny shook his head, "you're not going to let this go, are you?"
"Nope." The pop of the 'p' coming out of Angel's mouth had EZ chuckling.
"Just do it bro, he's not going to drop it."
Manny rolled his eyes, "fine, we drive by once and if you can't see her, we come back."
Angel smiled and stood up, "great, we should go now before it gets too late."
EZ rolled his eyes, "why not make it a group thing, I'll come too."
After some back and forth, the group was Coco, Angel, Ez and Manny, Gilly smiling at Angel, "report back?"
"Hell yeah."
They took the van, choosing to leave the bikes because Manny was worried you'd come out and meet them even if you were enjoying yourself. When they drove by, you weren't there and Manny huffed, "see, we just wasted out time."
Coco shook his head, "give it ten minutes, she might come out."
Manny sighed, "not what I agreed to."
EZ shrugged, "we need to pick up dinner anyway and the line is huge, we may as well wait."
He pointed to the food truck up the street and Angel nodded, "EZ's right, we should kill two birds with one stone or whatever."
Seven minutes in, you walked out looking exhausted, Angel tapped Manny on the shoulder and pointed out the driver's window to where you were standing, Manny's breath catching in his throat. He blinked, time slowing as he took in the vision of you leaning against the wall. The tea length red dress and fluffy skirt made you look like something out of a fairytale, he was vaguely aware of someone talking, then someone was tapping him again, harder this time.
"Dude, you right?"
Manny blinked, "yeah fine, she looks pretty had it. Maybe we should leave her alone."
Angel shook his head, "nah, we're just what she needs after dealing with those rich assholes all night." Angel got out of the car as the other followed, Manny couldn't help but join, his feet having a mind of their own as you pulled him in like you had cast a spell on him.
You must have sensed that someone was walking close because you looked up from the ground and met eyes with Manny, your face breaking out into a smile as you waved gently. They walked over and stood around you, something had them smiling because they looked at Manny's expression then looked at each other.
"Hey."
Manny smiled, "hey, you look...you look really nice."
Angel huffed, "really man, you're supposed to say she looks beautiful or radiant or something like that. Which you do by the way."
You smiled and met Angel's eye, "thank you but nice is perfectly fine." Manny pressed his lips together in an effort to stop himself was smiling, his eyes stuck on the way the dress made you look like a princess.
"You look like shit."
You sighed, "thanks Coco, I feel like it too. If I have to spend another second hearing some banker tell me I'm doing the lord's work while they talk about their two million dollar yacht, I'm going to start throwing mini quiches at people. God I'm hungry."
EZ pointed towards the food truck, "we were on our way to get food, you want something?"
You nodded emphatically, "I will kill for you if feed me." You held a finger up, "and I came prepared." You reached into the dress, Manny smiling at the fact that it had pockets, "six carne asada tacos, please, with extra veg."
EZ smiled, "done, you want anything to drink?"
You nodded, "just water please."
He headed off, leaving you with the others, "were you heading home?"
Coco seemed to know the answer, "yes, I lasted till nine thirty, that's enough. I should have come to the party yesterday and told these people my cats had the runs or something. I'm pretty sure I wasted my whole night."
Angel smiled, "it's not a waste now that we're here, is it?"
You shook your head, "no, actually, you might have saved the night."
He tapped Manny, "see Manny, we might have saved the night."
EZ returned with everyone's food and handed you yours, "thank you." He nodded, his own mouth full and Coco jutted his head towards the van, "we better go hide before some rich asshole comes out and wants to talk about his yacht more."
Everyone walked towards the van, Manny opening the back for you and helping you up. "Thank you Manny."
He sat next to you and drove into his own meal, you legs almost touching, "how is it?"
You smiled, "so good, there's only so many bacon wrapped mini potatoes a person can eat while trying to act like a lady."
He laughed, "let me guess, you wanted to shove a whole handful in your mouth at once?"
"Hell yeah, how else do people eat shit like that?"
The smile on his face was lighting up the van, "agreed, how are your tacos?"
You stuck up your thumb, "so good. I was hungrier than I thought. Yours?"
He nodded, "real good, they'd be better with shit for your garden, though."
You smiled, "you said it, not me."
By the time the food was done, you were yawning and ready to head home. "Thank you gentlemen for salvaging my night, but I think it's time I bid you adieu."
Manny stood up, "I'll walk you to your car."
Behind him, Angel was grinning. "Thank you Manny." He walked you to your car, leaning over the door as you stuck the key in the ignition and turned it over.
"ppppppp...pp."
You sighed and dropped your head onto the steering wheel, Manny looking on in worry, "ahhh, not again. The fucking spark plug is gone, I'll have to call myself a cab."
He shook his head, "we'll take you back home, I'll call the others and get your car taken to the Clubhouse, Marcus will make sure they look after it."
You shook your head, "I can't ask you to take me back home, it's forty five minutes away."
He shook his head, "nah, don't worry about it. I'm sure they guys with be happy to help." You went to protest but he stopped you, "really, I think you'll hurt Coco feelings if you get a cab."
You sighed, "fine, but only if they agree too." He held his hand out and helped you out of your seat, "thank you Manny."
You walked back to the van, being met with quizzical stares, "what's going on?"
You shrugged, "my car's fucked."
Coco nodded, "we'll take you home."
Manny smiled, "see Tesoro, I told you we'd be happy to drop you off."
You rolled your eyes, "fine, you don't all need to be so wonderful."
Coco huffed, "you can thank us with cake."
You nodded, "alright, are you sure? I don't want you driving back and forth."
Angel shook his head, "we have to check on the Clubhouse anyway, make sure everything is alright."
Your eyes wrinkled, "because Riz and Tara are going to burn it down in the few hours you're away?"
EZ snorted, "they might."
You shook your head, "alright, thank you again."
Coco smiled, "give us yours keys, we'll get a tow to take your car back to the Clubhouse." You handed them over and Coco went to make the call while you relaxed in the van, Manny sitting next to you.
"How are the cats?"
You smiled, "so good, Sir Fluffernutter tried to steal my sandwich today, turns out he hates rye bread."
Manny laughed, "he is such a little shit."
You smiled, "I know, he's the problem child."
Coco returned with a smile, "Marcus is happy for us to drop you off, he's going to send Medina to pick up your car, you right with that?"
You nodded, "fine, thank you again, I can't thank you guys enough for all the trouble you're going to."
EZ nodded, "I'll wait here, you guys head off."
Coco tossed EZ your keys, "thanks man." With a little bit more back and forth, you were off. It didn't take long for the conversation to pick up as they asked you about your night and laughed along as you went into detail about the people you met.
"One dude went right for the weird shit, asking if I work with serial killers, I'm pretty sure he has a bunch of heads in his freezer."
Angel huffed, "does that happen often?"
You nodded, "oh my God yes. College was the worst, I made the mistake of going to a frat party once and all they could talk about was Freud, I wanted to stab my eardrums out."
Manny rolled his eyes, "you got more patience than me."
You smiled, "yes, I've noticed you get a little punchy when you don't like someone."
Coco huffed, "nah, that's just Canche."
You smiled, "he does really suck."
There was a rustle and Angel was producing a joint and offering it around. Manny took a puff and then suggested it to you as you shrugged, "why not, one isn't going to give me cancer." You inhaled and suppressed a cough, "wow that's a lot."
Coco chuckled, "you don't like weed?"
You huffed, "I'm civilized, cookies and gummies only. Plus, I can't smell like the devil's lettuce while I'm with patients."
A few minutes later, the joint kicked in and you were reclining against the van, "you wanna stop somewhere?"
You nodded, "please Coco, I could eat a horse."
He pulled into a burger joint off the highway, "what do you want?"
You thought for a minute, "fries, ice cream, fries."
Manny laughed, "same here." It did take long for everyone to have their meals, Coco eating with one hand while he drove.
"So, what cake do you guys want." They all started to talk at once, "good lord, one at a time."
It took their THC laden brains to answer before Angel spoke, "that strawberry one you made for Chucky, that was really good."
There were nods all around, "easy peasy."
Time flew as you drove back home and before you knew it, you were pulling into your drive way. "Thank you again, I had a really nice time."
Angel smiled, "so did we."
He met eyes with Manny and Manny shook his head, "I'll walk you to your door." They smiled as Manny helped you off the step and walked you the short distance to your doorstep.
Maybe it was the weed or the party but something came over you and you were placing a hand on his cheek while you pressed a kiss to the other, "goodnight Emmanuel."
He ached to reach out and hold you to him but he stopped himself, smiling as you walked inside, "goodnight y/n."
The other were watching from the van, Angel smiling for ear to ear as Manny walked back. He went to say something when Manny climbed back into the back but Manny held up his hand with a head shake.
"Not a word bro."
Part 3
Song inspiration is Dodie - Would You Be so Kind
Chapter releases are up to you.
Hearts and blank reblogs with no tags will be worth one point each.
Comments and reblogs with comments/tags will be worth two points each.
That means a maximum of 5 points per person.
Chapter three will be released after 20 points.
#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans#mayans fx#manny mayans imagine#manny mayans x you#manny mayans#manny mayans x female reader#manny montana#mayans mc#mayans mc fanfic#fluff#a gentle kind of love#angel reyes#ez reyes#hank loza#neron creeper vargas#gilly lopez#bishop losa#michael riz ariza#johnny coco cruz#hope#leticia cruz
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bishop Losa in Mayans MC season 4 episode 2
#mayans mc#mayans fx#bishop losa#michael irby#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa imagine#mayans mc imagine#mayans mc season 1#mayans mc season 4#mayans mc season 3#bishop losa fluff#bishop losa smut#bishop losa angst
219 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Woman Like You
Pairing: Bishop Losa x f!Reader (no description of body type or race is mentioned)
Word Count: 5.6k
Summary: Four weeks after you and Angel break up, you're in an accident. With no one left to call, Bishop comes to your rescue. While fixing your bike, he also fixes your heart.
Warnings: nothing but a whole lot of fluff, reader gets injured in a motorcycle accident but nothing is graphically described, mentions of blood, Angel kind of being an ass but so is the reader so🤷♀️
Commissioned by @winchestershiresauce (i'm sorry it took so long i'm stupidly busy ily)❤️
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Tip Jar
a/n: i'm strongly considering doing a part 2 with smut included so if you want that then just tell me and i'll do it!
tagging: @melaniecraig80 @est1887
Posting new fics over on @michaelirby
“Maybe we should break up then!”
While those words stung, it didn’t completely come as a surprise. Your relationship with Angel was hanging by its last thread, so when your boyfriend, now ex, came barreling towards where you stood on the clubhouse porch, you knew it wasn’t going to end well. And while the argument nor your breakup was unexpected, it didn’t hurt any less, especially since Angel had the Gaul to yell at you in front of his brothers.
Truthfully, you don’t really know what prompted this argument. At this point, it seems that you and Angel would find any reason to scream at each other. But deep in your heart, it still hurts. While you may not be in love with him anymore, you don’t care for him any less. But the anger running through your veins doesn’t consider that thought as you scream back at him.
“Fine!”
Everyone freezes, heads slowly turning to see the look of shock and hurt on each of your faces. Your heart is racing, the steady thud thud thud can be felt throughout your entire body. And with this anxiety quickly rising, you clear your throat and tilt your head slightly so you can stare at the ground for a solid minute while you contemplate your next words carefully.
“I’ll… stay at my place tonight,” Your voice is softer than you would have liked it to be, but you manage to look up and meet Angel’s eyes. The fire is still there, masking the hurt you know is about to consume his body. And you can’t stand it, because he’s still your friend. Before you got together he was your friend, and you’d hate to think that this is the end of any relationship you two could have.
“I’ll pick my things up tomorrow.”
Without another word you turn and escape into the clubhouse where, thankfully, the party is still in full swing. You’re able to dodge the drunks and weave your way through dancing bodies without being seen while on your way to retrieve your keys from the new prospect - Steve? Stan? You couldn’t really remember nor do you care to at this moment.
On shaky legs you manage to push your way to the front of the bar, hand lifting to catch the prospect’s attention. To no avail, though, he’s turned to help a slightly unruly group of patrons. After a minute of waving your hand, you huff, your hand falling down to rest on the bar you’re now leaning against. With a slow turn of your head, your eyes flicker across the room, passing over more unruly men and a few women crowded near the pool table.
A soft grunt is heard behind you, so your body moves to look at whoever could be invading your space. Upon seeing Bishop, standing tall and oozing confidence, leaning against the bar as well, you jump. A squeak escapes your lips at the small scare he gave you. It’s not that his presence intimidates you (quite the opposite actually, he’s really good at making you feel safe), you’d just assumed he’d be holed up with his brothers around the back table.
Looking over his shoulder, you can see the rest of the guys are, in fact, still around the table, presumably telling age old stories of heroics and stupidity. Bishop clears his throat, perhaps to get your attention back on him. So, you return your gaze to the man in front of you. His beard is long, his eyes tired, but his smile is genuine. In turn, you smile back at him. You hadn’t expected to cross paths tonight, but seeing him puts you in a better mood than you were five minutes ago.
“I heard a commotion happened outside, everything okay?” Bishop asks a furrow in his brow telling you he genuinely wants to know that you’re okay. That’s a perk of being friends with him, while he looks tough and mean, his words and actions speak volumes in terms of how much he cares for the people in his life.
Nodding your head, you sigh, body slumping against the bar counter. “Yeah, just - Angel.... We broke up,” You mutter, tightening your hold on your beer and bringing it up to your lips. You take quite a big gulp of the alcohol before returning your attention to Bishop. “I’m not surprised it happened, but… it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
The pounding in your heart rattles your ribcage as you fight off tears. Crying in a clubhouse full of people isn’t on your to-do list for the day, so you lean back over the bar counter to search for your keys, finding them in a bowl on the back side of the bar.
“Let me drive you home.” His voice isn’t loud or commanding, but it’s still not phrased as a question. You snap your head to the side to look at Bishop again, ready to turn that idea down. Instead of speaking, Bishop pulls his keys out of his pocket and gently takes your arm so he can lead you out of the clubhouse.
“I’m fine Bish, I’m not even that drunk.” That’s a lie, both of you know it’s not true. But you’re still hesitant to get on a bike with Bishop, it feels like a betrayal to your own Harley. Nevertheless, he manages to pull you all the way to his truck, and - oh. You’re not going on his bike?
As if reading your mind, Bishop quickly adds, “I’ve had a few beers myself, taking the truck is safer.” And that seems to be the end of that conversation.
The alcohol flowing through your system manages to dull your anger enough to not fight back when Bishop helps you into the passenger seat and buckles you in. You want to argue that you’re not a baby, that you can take care of yourself thank you very much, but the several (four, maybe?) beers and the two shots you’d had tonight were hitting you in full force.
Once the door is closed, you turn in your seat to press your forehead to the glass and pull your legs up to your chest. You’re usually a happy type of drunk, but with the yelling and the heartache, all you want to do right now is sleep. And you must have done just that, because the next thing you know Bishop is maneuvering you out of the car to cradle you in his arms.
“Lemme down… I can.. walk.” You murmur, but you’re quickly slipping back into slumber as Bishop chuckles. The last thing you remember, Bishop is laying you down - on your bed? Couch? You can’t tell, but you don’t care right now.
“Goodnight, querida.”
And then, everything goes black.
_____________
Sunlight streams in through the open curtains, a warm glow fills the room. A groan, loud and hearty, echoes throughout the otherwise silent bedroom. Your head lifts from the pillow before quickly shoving itself under said pillow. The light is too bright, the birds chirping are too loud, and you want to throw up. This feeling is actually what gets you up from the bed, stumbling your way to the bathroom just in time to empty your stomach into the toilet. Your head pounds with every wretch and cough you emit, only after two minutes does the vomiting end. Eyes closed and mouth parted, you flush the toilet and brace yourself so you can stand on wobbly legs.
The cool water splashing against your face actually helps, the cold waking your mind and body by a fraction. Your gaze drifts from the sink to the mirror, causing you to visibly cringe at the state you’re in. Your hair is relatively kempt, but the bags under your eyes and the flushness of your skin would let anyone know that you’re not doing too great today. A ding from your phone sounds loud throughout the room, and the pounding of your head starts to increase again.
The cabinet to your left holds your medicines, so you shuffle through different cold meds and pain pills until you land on the tylenol. It’s all a blur, shoving two tylenol in your mouth, gulping it down with tap water, and then stumbling back to bed intending to sleep the day away. But another ding from your phone sounds again, and you finally find the strength to look at it.
Several texts from Ez and Coco flood your screen, but one text is from Bishop, and your heart starts to drop into your stomach. Images from last night flood your mind as you remember the argument, the breakup, and then Bishop driving you home since you were way too drunk to drive. You dread what you’re about to read and pray that you hadn’t said anything embarrassing to the man. So, summoning up the courage, you open your phone.
From: Bishop
Good morning, I hope your hangover is treating you well. I know you hate other people riding your bike, so I’ll have it towed to your place later. Let me know when you wake up so I know you’re okay.
To: Bishop
Hey, I’m okay. My head feels like it’s going to explode and I might throw up again, so I’m having a good time. Thanks for doing this, and for last night. I’m sorry if I said or did anything embarrassing.
You throw your phone on the pillow next to your head and sigh, and within minutes you’re back in the clutches of a restless slumber.
_____________
Four weeks pass by and you’ve managed to not go back to the clubhouse. Sure, you’ve hung out with Coco and Gilly and Ez a few times, you’ve even met with Bishop at a diner to catch up, but never at the clubhouse. Mainly, it’s because you know it’s Angel’s territory, his home away from home, and you don’t want to show up and ruin that for him after breaking up so soon (It’s also partially due to not wanting to see a new woman hang off of Angel’s arm if he’s already moved on).
You’ve managed to stay away from the clubhouse for four weeks, up until today. Clouds covered the sun, providing much needed shade and therefore letting the temperature drop by a few degrees. Today was a perfect day for riding around the streets of Santo Padre, up until it wasn’t.
You’re at a red light when it happens, a car racing down the road at a definitely illegal speed swerves as the driver tries to turn left. Luckily, there was only one other car on the road, the opposite side you were on, so they didn’t get hurt, but you did.
The car manages to swerve in such a way that the rear of the car smashes into your bike, sending you flying backwards and your bike skidding to the right. Due to the force of which you’re knocked back by, you land on your side, your shoulder taking most of the impact. It might be the adrenaline, but you don’t register the pain, nor do you register the blood all across your arm from where you’d skidded across the pavement.
In a haze, you hear sirens sound in the distance, people come to your aid in flocks, several bystanders are helping you to stand while other bystanders block the car that hit you from speeding away. It’s all a blur, everything moves too fast yet too slow at the same time. But soon enough the paramedics are escorting you to the back of an ambulance and police officers are surrounding the car.
Over the next five or so minutes, you’re asked a series of questions regarding your injuries and medical history, but one question stumps you.
Is there anyone you want to notify?
Is there? Your family lives hours away, you and Angel are no longer together, and you’re pretty sure most of the club is working at the scrapyard. Still, you know you won’t be able to get back home once they transport you to the hospital, so you decide to call the one person that you know could help you right now.
Bishop.
_____________
Within the next hour, you’re sitting on a hospital bed with your arm bandaged and in a sling. You’re doing alright for being hit by a car, most of that has to do with the helmet you were wearing. Minor scrapes and bruises litter your body, a nasty cut across your cheek had to be stitched up, but you’ve had worse.
Heavy footsteps make their way down the hall, a gruff voice asking (demanding) to be led to your room, and then suddenly the door is swung open to reveal a very concerned Bishop. His breathing is labored, chest rising and falling rapidly as he takes in your condition.
After determining that you’re not in serious peril, Bishop takes a few quick steps so he can stand in front of you. His eye twitches and his fist clenches, the scowl on his face let’s you know that he might actually kill the man that put you here.
Reaching your good hand out to him, you lay your hand on his bicep and squeeze softly. A soft smile forms on your face as you shake your head. “I’m okay, Bish. A little banged up, but nothing too bad.”
Bishop huffs, shakes his own head, and takes your hand off of his arm so he can hold it in his own. “No. It ain’t okay, you’re hurt.”
And something in the way he speaks makes your heart stutter ever so slightly, your face grows warm. But, you don’t want to dwell on that, you’re more concerned with calming Bishop down than you are with analyzing why now, of all times, you’re becoming nervous around your friend.
“I’m okay, Obispo. Yes, I’m injured, but that doesn’t mean that I'm incapacitated.” Your voice comes out harsher than you intended. However at this point, you’re tired of people (men, mainly) treating you like some porcelain doll that must be protected at all times. “I’m a big girl, okay. I can handle myself, you know.”
At this, Bishop sighs and drops your hand, but not before giving it a soft squeeze. “I know you are, that doesn’t mean I like seeing people I care about getting hurt.” His voice is also gruff, but you know it’s because he truly cares.
As you’re contemplating on whether or not to argue further with Bishop, a knock at your room’s door stops you both, you both turning your heads to look at the doctor making his way towards you with a clipboard and papers.
“We’ve prescribed you some pain medications and a steroid to help with the swelling in your shoulder. Now all you have to do is sign these documents and we can release you.”
The doctor is short and to the point, clearly tired from what must be a long and stressful shift at the ER, so you take the clipboard and (as best as you can) balance the clipboard on your knees so you can sign what needs to be signed. At one point Bishop tries to take the clipboard to help steady it, but you throw him a glare that makes him back off.
It takes a bit, but you’re soon discharged and walking (limping, more like it) out of the hospital and to Bishop’s awaiting truck.
“I had Chucky tow your bike to the shop. I’ll take a look at it tomorrow and see if we can save her.” Bishop talks with authority, like what he says is final, and that’s what really irks you.
“You didn’t need to do that, I could have had it brought to my house so I can fix my bike.” Frustration is flowing through your veins. You loathe asking others for help, so this otherwise small act of kindness feels too much for you.
That comment makes Bishop stop walking and turn around so he can face you. “Querida, I know how much you hate others touching your bike. Under any other circumstance I wouldn’t have taken it to the shop, but I cannot trust you to not hurt yourself further by working on this bike.” Bishop sighs heavily and stares into your eyes with determination. “Now get in the truck so I can take you home.”
Okay that is what really pisses you off, logically, deep down you know that he’s only doing this because he cares about you, he would never want to see you hurt. But the insinuation that you’d put yourself in any more jeopardy by overextending yourself (no matter how true it is) irritates you.
“I’m an adult, Bishop. I don’t need your charity,” Your voice raises, and Bishop looks around for any bystanders that might be listening in.
When he’s determined that no one else is within earshot of you both, he takes ahold of your good arm. “Please, we can talk about this tomorrow, I’ll even pick you up and take you to the scrapyard tomorrow so we can both look at it.” Now, his tone may ooze confidence and finality but you can tell he’s getting desperate, almost pleading for you to just get in the truck.
One very long minute passes before your eyes are rolling and you’re moving past Bishop to grab onto the truck’s door handle. You can see him shake his head, hear the sigh that leaves his lips, and while you’re frustrated with him (immensely so), you’re partially frustrated with yourself. Receiving kindness has always been hard for you, therefore you’re prone to lashing out at those who are kind to you. And you hate it, you hate feeling like you’re pushing people away, but you don’t know any other way to live.
Maybe it’s your lingering anger, maybe it’s the pain medicine kicking in, but you don’t speak the rest of the way to your house. At one point, Bishop looks over at you and tries making small talk, but he’s quickly shut down by your non responsiveness. It’s a tense silence you two sit through, you are too upset to speak and Bishop is too tired to argue anymore.
When you do finally get to your house, you’re the first person out of the truck, limping up your porch steps so you can unlock your door. It takes a few minutes, but soon the front door is unlocked and your bag is tossed onto the floor. As you turn to shut your door, you see Bishop leaning against his truck, clearly exasperated.
Again, the beating of your heart increases and, again, you push that feeling down. Deciding that you’ve been enough of a pain in the ass tonight, you lift your good arm and wave at Bishop. A small smile makes its way onto your face, hopefully softening the blow of yelling at him earlier.
This must have calmed Bishop, because he too smiles and waves before getting back in his truck. And as you’re watching him pull out of your driveway, you can’t help but be a tad bit happy you get to see him tomorrow.
_____________
“The motor is-“
“The motor is fine!”
“It’s not supposed to-“
“I know how my bike works, alright!”
Whoever thought letting Angel tell you what was wrong with your bike deserves a kick in the head. Each time Angel opens his mouth, you’re shutting him down, not letting him get a word in. It’s tough, because as much as you don’t hate Angel, you do hate other people telling you how to fix your bike without letting you look for yourself.
“Just listen-“
“Cut that shit out!” A loud, booming voice echoes in your direction. Turning, you see Bishop making his way over to you and Angel, his eyes locked on Angel’s the whole way.
Angel’s mouth opens again, ready to stand his ground, but Bishop’s eyebrow raises and he clears his throat and that shuts Angel up. He backs down, grumbling about how you’re too difficult and frustrating to work with.
A large, calloused hand lands on your bicep and squeezes softly, effectively moving your focus from yelling at Angel. Warm eyes meet yours as you shift your head, there’s something unreadable about the look in Bishop’s eyes. It’s something you’ve seen a million times, but you’re just now noticing how soft it is. How his eyes shine just a little brighter. It’s… strange, and his stoic face doesn’t help things either, making it hard to decipher the situation.
These warm eyes, the same eyes that you’ve looked into hundreds of times, send a chill down your spine. It makes you feel guilty, immensely so, because Bishop is your friend. Your friend who helped you through the last few months of your relationship with Angel. Your friend who gave you advice and company when things were tense in your relationship. Your friend whose eyes are, very suddenly, pulling you in deep.
“C’mon querida, let’s look for ourselves.”
This snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping up to meet his. A little lost in your head, you nod slowly and turn abruptly, making your way into the garage to, hopefully, leave those confusing thoughts behind.
_____________
Sweat runs down your neck, sunglasses shield your eyes from the sun hanging high in the sky. It must be 100 degrees at least, and yet your tank top and shorts still heat your skin further. The only reprieve you get from the heat is when you occasionally tread inside for water, however your AC doesn’t seem to be wanting to work today either. A fan in your garage is on high speed, circulating as much cool air as possible, it’s still not very effective.
Not only are you frustrated with the heat, you’re growing more and more frustrated with not being able to do basic things without help. So, being you, you don’t ask for help, you work around getting the things you need. You’re able to move your arm more, at-home physical therapy has been working wonders, but you’re still not able to do what you want to do, what you need to do. Which happens to be fixing your bike.
There’s not much time during the week to work on it, which is why Bishop has come to your house for the past three Sundays to help with it. Which is to say, you help him. With your arm still bandaged up you’re unable to maneuver to the exact position working on your bike requires you to be in. But, speaking of the devil, when you exit the house with yet more bottles of water, you’re granted the sight of Bishop in his white tank-top and jeans, squatting down and staring intensely at the loosely hanging chains on the broken bike.
Suddenly, like you’ve been hit by a bullet, you’re hit with a variety of emotions. Some of them you cannot name, some of them you can. The one emotion that sticks out from all of them is… infatuation? That can’t be right, you think. You’re just friends, plus, you broke up with Angel only six weeks ago, stop it.
None of these thoughts help, though. Standing in a trance-like state, each hand gripping a bottle, your breathing picks up. Why are you feeling these things now? What changed? Could it have been that he was there for you when virtually no one else was? Maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, like no one could hurt you. Maybe it’s because you know he wants to keep you safe, yet he chooses to let you do your thing, content in the knowledge that you’d let him know if anything happened. This realization, the fact that you’ve never had that kind of understanding with any previous relationship, almost knocks you off balance.
Six weeks, you have to remind yourself. You’ve been single for six weeks, don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s not until Bishop stands to full height do you realize that you’ve been staring at him for god-knows how long. The corner of his mouth quirks up, like he knows what you’re thinking. And instead of dwelling on how refreshing that feels to have someone understand you like Bishop has been able to for the entirety of your seven year friendship, you pick your head up and smile back at him.
“I hope you’re not breaking her anymore than she already is,” You joke, a slight waver in your voice. Rough, scorching hot cement pushes you to walk forward into the shaded garage, right next to Bishop.
“Yeah, y’know, I’ve decided to leave her like that. I’m sure she’s ready to go,” Bishop’s smile widens, humor flushing out any weird tension that hung in the air only moments ago. The hand not holding the water rests on your lower back, pushing you forward.
“Well I’ll leave you up to taking the first test run, then,” You joke back, both of you staring at each other for a moment before cracking, laughter echoing through the small garage. The hand on your back stays in place, and you find yourself being pulled further into Bishop’s side. The laughter subsides, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you.
“But seriously,” You sigh, preparing yourself for the worst outcome possible. “How is she?”
Sensing your unease, Bishop grabs one of the bottles of water from your hands. “She’ll be fine,” He assures you, taking a brief moment to swallow down some much needed water. “I’ll get her working in no time.”
A quick kick to the shin makes him clear his throat and backtrack on that last comment. “We’ll get her working in no time.”
“Good, now hand me a wrench so I can put the chains where they’re actually supposed to go.” The hand you’ve outstretched towards Bishop gets smacked away, with a quick reprimand.
“How about you hand me a wrench and I’ll let you delegate on where things go.”
Seemingly okay with this compromise, you nod. Sticking your tongue out and pulling a face while you search for said wrench.
_____________
Two grueling Sundays later, and Bishop and you have finally fully repaired your bike. It was a long process, having to order parts and break apart the whole motorcycle to put said parts into place took way longer than you’d have liked.
However, many frustrating arguments and a few mistakes later, your girl is as good as new. And luckily, you had your cast taken off last week, so you were actually of physical use today. It felt good, being able to move around and stretch fully without hindrance.
The best part about that experience was getting closer to Bishop. Getting to know random new facts about him, getting to see which of your jokes and stories get the most laughs out of him, getting to see a new side of him.
From an outside perspective, you’d think he had no problem sharing these things about himself, opening up so easily. From an inside perspective, from yours, you know he’d never be so open and jovial with just anyone. The fact that Bishop, your closest friend, deemed you worthy of seeing the real him has your heart soaring. The dad-like jokes actually help too.
One particular joke from Bishop has your eyes clenching shut, your head tilting back, and your hand shooting out to hang onto his forearm while you laugh, boisterous and loud. A snort, arguably an unattractive snort, comes out next, and you rush to cover your mouth. A large, warm hand comes to your wrist not long after, pulling it down so you’re not hidden away.
Your eyes flutter open, looking right to see Bishop, staring back at you with such intensity that it catches you off guard. How his eyes flicker down to your lips for one very long moment before returning to your own eyes. It makes you gulp, butterflies filling your stomach and your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.
This feeling intensifies as Bishop’s hand removes itself from your wrist to slowly encompass your cheek. Skin flushing, mouth dry, you peer down to his lips. Within seconds they start moving as he starts speaking.
“I don’t know when, or how. It was sudden. I woke up one day knowing that I wanted you, I needed you. You were with Angel at the time, so I’d never said anything. But… I can’t help but notice the way you look at me. You didn’t even look at Angel like that.”
A short pause, an intake of breath before speaking again.
“I’d like to think you feel this too.”
Time seems to move in slow motion. Two months ago you broke up with a man you cared for. Now you’re sitting in your garage with a man who cares for you. All of the indecipherable looks from him now added up, he likes you.
“I do.” You say, voice no louder than a whisper. “I feel it.” The hand cupping your cheek slides to the back of your neck, resting comfortably.
Silence fills the room, neither of you speaking for fear of ruining the moment. Until finally, Bishop’s hand squeezes your neck softly to guide you further towards him. For a long moment you stay with your lips centimeters away, eyes fluttering shut as you take a breath in.
“Obispo-“ You’re cut off abruptly by lips pressing into yours. You’re torn between being surprised and being correct in your assumptions about the way Bishop kisses. He kisses like he loves: passionate, gentle, soft.
Lips slide over each other, tongues poking out to tease the other while the hand on your neck squeezes harder. At this, a soft moan escapes your lips, allowing Bishop to slide his tongue into your mouth and explore this new territory.
A hand snakes its way up Bishop’s arm, squeezes his bicep, then cups his cheek. With tilted heads and entangled bodies, this moment is one you’ll never forget. You’d do anything to stay like this forever, but, as if by chance, a phone rings, the two of you breaking away to look at who the hell is calling.
It ends up being Taza, wondering where in the hell Bishop is when he was supposed to be at Hank’s over an hour ago. An apologetic smile forms on Bishop’s face as he nods, telling Taza he’ll be there soon. Turning to you, ready to apologize, he’s stopped by your lips covering his.
A soft, chaste kiss followed by, “It’s okay, go.”
Bishop leaves then, leaving behind a woman smiling so bright with a heart full of love.
_____________
A late Friday night, another clubhouse party in full swing. Bishop is leaning against a pool table casually watching Angel get his ass beat by Letti at a different table. It’s fun, everyone having fun while drinks flow freely. Until suddenly, Angel is grumbling, eyes trained on the front doors to see you.
The confidence you ooze, the power you hold, it’s evident to everyone in the room that you are not to be messed with. Angel clearly doesn’t get that message as he stomps in your direction. He gets no more than ten feet from you when he opens his mouth to start yelling.
No words come out though, he’s stopped by you brushing past him into Bishop’s arms. You don’t care to get into an argument tonight, despite being known for not backing down from a fight. All you care about tonight is spending time with your friends, and with Bishop.
Despite your relationship being undefined, you’re still clearly infatuated with each other, taking your time and going with the flow. You’ve managed to wrap your arms around Bishop’s waist as Angel appears in front of you both, confused as ever.
“When the hell did this happen?” It’s phrased as a question, but you can hear the hurt he’s buried deep. And while it does pain you to hurt Angel, you’re not going to let him ruin your night.
“It’s new, actually. Somewhere along the line we realized we were good for each other. Actually good for each other.”
Huffing, Angel crosses his arms over his chest and stands taller. Despite staring deep into your eyes, his next sentence isn't directed at you. “Good luck with your new girl, then. Hope you can handle her.” He’s about to turn and leave when Bishop finally speaks up.
“I know how to handle women like her, a lot better than you do.”
You can see the anger in Angel’s eyes, the gears turning in his head as he contemplates arguing with Bishop. Aggravated, Angel turns and walks towards a group of ladies entertaining themselves with other mayan men.
This calms your heart down, your anger subsides, replaced by fondness as you look up at Bishop.
“He called me ‘your girl’,” you say, smiling wide.
“And?” The questioning look on Bishop’s face causes you to giggle, as he clearly doesn’t register what you’re hinting at.
“You didn’t say that I’m not,” Your arms tighten around his waist, face inching closer to his.
A smile forms on Bishop’s face as well, chuckling softly to himself. “That’s ‘cause you are my girl. You alright with that?”
Holding your head high, one hand snakes from Bishop’s back over and up to smooth over his stomach. Letting your hand wander further upwards, you lean in close to his face so you can whisper in his ear
“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
#mayans mc#mayans fx#bishop losa#bishop losa angst#bishop losa fluff#bishop losa smut#bishop losa imagine#bishop losa x you#bishop losa x reader#obispo losa#mayans headcanons#mayans x reader#mayans mc imagine#my writing
470 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mama Bear
Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader
Word Count: 700
Warnings: none
Request by anon which you can find HERE
Request by @leilani-writes which you can find HERE
A/N: hope it was alright that I combined these two! I also hope it turned out good because I struggled a lot with this one but enjoy <3
Sign up HERE to join my taglist!
GROUP CHAT for updates!
Gif Credit: @pedropcl
Bishop and you were going to invite the whole club for a little get-together at the house. Food, drinks, and good company were on the menu. You hadn’t seen them for a while because of your pregnancy and the chaos that has been the club life the recent months. You were a few months pregnant now, and the boys haven’t seen how much your bump has grown.
Bishop wouldn’t let you move a muscle, so the only thing you were allowed to do was the shopping list, while he would be the one to buy everything in and set it all up. Everyone had their particular needs and flavors for what they liked, so the list grew with each member. Being the “mom” for them all, despite being younger than most, it was your job to keep track of what your precious children loved and wanted. Bishop was sitting at the table as you read up everything that would need to be bought.
“... beers for Ez, gummies for Letty, Steve likes strawberry ice cream, and of course, we can’t forget the chicken nuggets for Angel this time. He almost had my neck when I forgot last time.” You chuckled to yourself at the funny memory of Angel being a sad and pouty boy.
“That’s a lot of shit, sweetheart,” Bishop complained in a teasing manner. “Hey, you were the one that wanted to invite the kids over,” you hit his arm with the long list, “you know how grumpy they get when they don’t get their favorites.” “Yeah, let’s not relive the last get-together we had.” You both shudder at the memory of drama and crying.
The day of the house party had come, and you stood at the door as you greeted every one of them. Their faces lit up at the sight of your baby bump, highly visible. Words and kisses were left upon it by the men that would be there to protect and love the little joy that would be born in just a few short months. They could see how happy you and Bishop were, and that left a small print of light in their dark lives as part of the MC.
Everyone was out in the backyard enjoying themselves. The sun shone down, and the music from the stereo created a relaxed atmosphere. Bishop had just fired up the grill for the heaps of meat that was ready to be grilled and consumed by some hungry bikers. The drinks and snacks went faster than you could refill it.
Since it’s been forever since you saw everyone, you went around to catch up. They all felt safe and comfortable in your presence, so they became colossal blabber mouths when you approached them. Whether it was just a quick chat or asking for some much-needed advice, you were there for them. You were always like a fun, caring, and loving “mom” to the group. Always there for them whenever with whatever they needed. You took care of them and loved them when they hadn’t anyone else to go to.
Once the sun started to come down and everyone was packed with food in their bellies and sitting in groups having conversations, you approached your husband, who was sitting somewhere to the side just enjoying that for once, his brothers had a day with no worries in their minds. You sat down on the two-seater, legs draped over him as you took a moment to rest for a bit.
“Tired?” “Ugh, yes! You try playing mom with these children in men's bodies.” The comment made him laugh some. “It’s not easy being mom and dad,” he stated.
“Like, why did we decide to get pregnant when we already have like 10 of them.” “Sorry, sweetheart, but can I just quote you in saying: fuck Bishop, please finish inside me I need to feel you.” You threw a pillow at his shoulder, “shut up,” a smirk on your face in remembering how you ended up in this situation.
“Come here.” He opened his arms for you to get between. You shared a sweet kiss as you watched over your kids, all happy and content, while caressing the one that still wasn’t born.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Thank you for reading❤️ If you liked it, a quick reblog and feedback would be so much appreciated❤️ Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.
MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @browneyes912 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites @lilacyennefer @smallflower16 @marvelmaree @brwnlikefoxy @kaylaygrace @stupiddsapphicc @violet624 @boomclapxox @mijop @macgruberrr @queen-under-the-shire @missihart23 @vixemi @heeeeeres-saint @paintballkid711 @x-goddess-of-nature-x @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mrsmarvelous1995 @luckyharley1903 @lilac-tea-time @leilaxaliel
#mayans mc#mayans mc x reader#mayans mc fluff#mayans mc fandom#mayans mc fanfic#mayans mc fx#mayans x reader#mayans fluff#mayans fandom#mayans fanfic#mayans fx#bishop losa#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa x you#bishop losa fluff#bishop losa fanfiction#bishop losa fics#obispo losa#obispo losa x reader#obispo losa fluff#michael irby#mayanssauce writes
351 notes
·
View notes
Text
Together [Bishop Losa x Fem!Reader]
I had every intention of this being a cute little wedding one-shot, inspired simply by Michael Irby in a suit. But then, somewhere along the line, I spiraled out of control and now it's over 2,500 words and has major trigger warnings. I don't know what happened, y'all. Anyway, I could have made this even longer, but my brain was like, PLEASE STOP, so I'm not entirely pleased with it, but I also just can't look at it anymore.
Warnings: references to past sexual abuse/molestation; language; physical assault; posttraumatic flashbacks; panic/anxiety; familial conflict | Words: 2,602
Taglist: @chibsytelford
“You clean up pretty nice, Señor Losa,” you murmured as you adjusted the knot of his tie. It was the first time you had seen him in anything other than worn jeans and leather and you were impressed. He looked positively delectable in his navy suit and crisp white shirt, the olive-green tie you had picked out coordinating flawlessly with your dress. You were honestly a little surprised he even owned a suit, but he, a little offended, assured you he did when you approached him about being your date to your cousin’s wedding. You ran your fingers down his lapels, smoothing them, then placed a soft kiss to his bearded cheek.
“Gotta make sure you got something nice on your arm, sweetheart,” he replied roguishly.
You grinned, rolling your eyes. “You always look good, baby… But I will say, that suit’s really doin’ something for me.” You wiggled your eyebrows, drawing a deep chuckle out of Bishop.
You glanced up from your spot in the courtyard as the church doors opened, allowing the wedding guests to move inside. The guest list was full of family members who had long ago rejected you. It was a little painful to see your whole family together so blatantly shunning you. You figured you were only there thanks to your cousin, Ava, championing you, and honestly, that was fine. You two were still close, and you were only there to support her on her big day.
You hung back with Bishop, your hand tucked in his, enjoying the nice breeze drifting through the shady, Spanish-style courtyard. It was a beautiful day for a wedding, and affection for Ava and her soon-to-be husband swelled in your chest. There was something about weddings that always made you sentimental and slightly tearful, which was highly outside of your character, so you had warned Bishop about it ahead of time. You didn’t want him to go in thinking that it was somehow related to him; that you were in a rush to get married, or that you wanted him to be settled down, or some other inane inaccuracy.
Finally, the two of you drifted to the church doors, trailing behind the crowd and choosing seats towards the back. When you sat, Bishop’s hand rested on your thigh and you could feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your dress. You wrapped your arm around his and tucked yourself into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head and you smiled to yourself, eternally glad for his company.
The wedding was beautiful. Ava looked gorgeous in her gown and in the ecstatic glow that hung around her like an aura. She cried, her fiancé cried, you cried. You felt the slight shudder of Bishop’s chest as he held back his good-natured laughter at your weepy eyes. That earned him a little slap on the chest, but you squeezed his arm gratefully when he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to you. When it was all said and done, the church erupted into cheers and wolf-whistles as the new husband and wife kissed and made their way back down the center aisle.
The reception was held in a nearby hotel, so you and Bishop leisurely made your way back to your car. As you made your way to the hotel, his hand remained firm and reassuring in yours. This was the part you were most worried about; estranged family members in large numbers, mixed with alcohol, had not historically gone down well for you. You knew Bishop would never let anything happen to you, but you supposed you were more afraid of what wasn’t being said or what was being whispered behind your back.
Upon entering the reception ballroom, you quickly scanned the list of your tablemates, dread seeping into your belly when you saw who you and Bishop would be sitting with; your snobby aunt Flora, her handsy husband, their teenaged daughter, and your crotchety great-aunt.
You looked at Bishop, not bothering to hide the grimace. He pulled you to him with a smirk and you buried your face in his neck.
“Está bien, mi amor. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen.”
“These people are the worst, Bish,” you whined, barely restraining your desire to stomp childishly.
“I know, sweetheart. Just remember that we’re here for Ava. Y podemos salir cuándo quieras (And we can leave whenever you want),” he whispered reassuringly, his lips resting softly on your temple. He let his hand slide down to the curve of your back and guided you inside, beelining both of you to the bar.
As you stood with Bishop at the bar, awaiting your glass of wine and his beer, you gazed at the two-story ballroom around you, entranced by the light reflecting off the massive crystal chandelier at the center of the room. An ornate marble balustrade ran along the upper floor of the room, cocktail tables set up along the edge. You marked it as a good place to hide out, away from the dance floor and the dinner tables sprawling across the lower level.
You and Bishop camped out at your assigned table as Ava and her new husband entered and toasts were made. The loving words spoken towards Ava and her husband slowly wore you down, words you knew you would never hear from these people. Bishop seemed to sense your discomfort, gripping your hand under the table and giving it a firm squeeze.
Dinner was an awkward affair, your aunt Flora and her family greeting you tersely as they sat and speaking to you not at all over the course of the meal. Halfway through, you moved on to something stronger than wine, desperate to care less about the people around you and their opinions of you.
Once plates had been cleared, Bishop pulled you to the upper level for some quiet time together. The two of you stood gazing over the wedding guests for a while, not speaking but taking comfort in one another’s presence.
“Thank you for coming,” you murmured finally. You glanced over at his relaxed expression. “I couldn’t have done this by myself.”
“You could have, querida. You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he replied. You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “But I’m happy to be here with you.”
You smiled lightly and pressed your lips to Bishop’s gratefully. As Bishop excused himself to the restroom a few minutes later, you propped your elbows back on the balustrade overlooking the lower level of the ballroom. You tossed back another gulp of whiskey, idly checking the time on your phone. You wanted to at least see Ava off before leaving, but time was absolutely crawling by. You heard the clacking of heels behind you and you glanced over your shoulder, your stomach lurching. Ava’s mother, your aunt Helen, was descending upon you, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“How dare you show up here,” she growled, her stance combative in spite of the slight drunken sway in her step.
She looked so much like him, her hostile demeanor only emphasizing the relation. Your mind reeled, thrown back into the nightmares of your childhood. You felt the edges of your mind fraying into panic and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to remember how to take deep breaths. Your pulse thundered under your skin.
“I – I was invited,” you muttered, studying the wood grain on the railing intently.
Helen grabbed your arm violently and yanked, her nails digging into your flesh. Thrown off balance, you stumbled and dropped your glass as you tried to find purchase on the bannister beside you. The loud shattering off glass drew more eyes to you and you felt heat rising to your face as you pulled yourself upright on the balustrade, the bottom of your dress stained with splashed whiskey. The broken glass on the floor swam in your vision like starlight as your eyes filled with tears.
“My brother is in prison because of you,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her face too close to yours. The scent of rum rolled off her tongue, its glaring familiarity transporting you back and igniting something in you. A small voice, ignored for years, that whispered at you to say something.
Your mouth opened impulsively and undiluted resentment poured out, words you had never said to any of these people before. “He deserved to go to prison! He molested me!” you snarled. “What kind of animal touches their own child like that?” It had taken you years of therapy to be able to say that out loud, and even then, it was in the safety of your therapist’s office. Practically shouting it in front of your estranged family wasn’t something you had prepared for today, and you felt the short burst of adrenaline leaving your body, your knees weakening.
Suddenly, warm hands were slipping under your elbows, Bishop pressed against your back, keeping you upright. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you wiped them away angrily. “All of you turned your backs on me... calling me a liar, saying I wanted attention,” you croaked. “I was just a kid! He stole my childhood and turned my family against me.”
Your aunt’s face was contorted in fury, her gaping mouth trying unsuccessfully to form words. Bishop spun you towards him, pulling you into his chest and your heart rate spiked. Bishop didn’t know about any of this. But your brain couldn’t possibly process what he was thinking at that moment, and there was no going back now.
Your aunt must have made a move towards you; you heard the rumble in Bishop’s chest before he spoke, his arm tightening around your shoulders. “Touch her again and I’ll break your fucking fingers,” he growled. The authority in his voice startled even you. You couldn’t imagine being a stranger on the other end of that cold tone.
You pulled yourself away from Bishop’s chest to see your aunt sputtering indignantly a few feet away. Your gaze carried disappointment within it as it swept over her and towards the stairs that would lead you out of there. Bishop ushered you that way, gripping your hand firmly as you stared at the floor, feeling the judging eyes of your family on you. You willed the tears down with deep breaths, letting anger seep back in to protect your heart from the pain.
The ride home was silent; your mind vacillated rapidly between the familiar sorrow of your family’s rejection and the new sting of panic at the possibility of judgment from Bishop. You dreaded the prospect of pity in his eyes or shame in his words. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered guilt. You would need to apologize to Ava for causing drama on her big day. A fresh swell of tears came over you. You kept your eyes trained on your fingers interlaced in your lap and Bishop, sensing the tension in your posture, stayed quiet.
Bishop followed you up to your shared bedroom. When he came through the door, you were simply standing in the middle of the room with your back to him, staring off at nothing, your hands dangling limply at your sides. You seemed so lifeless, a sharp departure from your normal disposition. He approached you slowly, placing his hands on your shoulders lightly, not wanting to startle you. You shuddered beneath his touch. His hands traced along the curves of your shoulder blades, finding the zipper of your dress and towing it down deliberately, his movements steady and reassuring. He hadn’t left you yet… Perhaps that was a good sign? His warm exhales fanned across the plane of your shoulder, his body pressed against your back. You let the dress fall into a pool of sage satin around your feet. As you stepped out of your heels, Bishop unhooked your bra and you tugged it off. He stepped quickly to the dresser and returned to you with one of his large t-shirts. He helped you to pull it on and as he fixed your tousled hair, he looked into your eyes, his heart heavy at your hollow gaze.
As you climbed into bed, he caught your wrist gently, studying the scratch marks left by your aunt’s nails. You caught the tightening of his jaw before he let go and tucked you under the covers. When he climbed in beside you, he took your face in his palms, running his thumb steadily against your jaw.
“¿Qué estás pensando, amor (What are you thinking, love)?” he whispered, his lips practically touching yours.
“Too much to say,” you replied wearily.
“Will you try for me?”
“It just hurts all over again,” you muttered, curling your clammy hands under your chin, barely resisting the urge to tuck yourself into the fetal position. “They all knew what happened to me. They just chose to believe him over me. So they – they blame me for my mother leaving him, for him going to prison.”
You took a shaky breath, studying Bishop’s dark eyes. “I’ve spent years in therapy learning how to accept what happened, how to stop letting it define me. But confronting the people who called themselves my family and then abandoned me when I needed them the most? I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to make peace with that.”
Bishop could see the wheels turning in your head, and he let you speak without interruption. The words seemed to be coming a little less haltingly now, and he took that as a good sign.
But then your eyes slid from his, to study intently at the pattern on the sheets. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” you whispered. “I just… didn’t know how to start that conversation. I didn’t want to scare you away. This – all of this baggage has spoiled a lot of relationships.”
You paused, wiping an errant tear away with your index finger. “I see the change in the way they look at me. I see the pity, the uneasiness. People learn about this part of my past and it brands me forever. No one has ever been able to really stomach it and eventually, they all walk away.” You closed your eyes, finding no reason to keep them open, sure that when you woke in the morning, Bishop would be gone.
Your heart missed a quiet beat in your chest when, instead, you felt Bishop’s fingers tucked beneath your chin, raising your face up to his. Your eyes fluttered open to see his unchanged expression looking back at you. You searched, but there was no shame, no uncertainty. No regret.
“Don’t apologize to me, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “What happened to you is your story to tell. You get to tell it to me at your own pace. Hey,” he urged, gripping your chin firmly. Your bottom lip trembled as tears stung the corners of your eyes, determined to hold his gaze. “I am not the people in your past. I see how tough you are. You overcame something so fucking terrible, and you’re still standing. That’s the definition of strength, querida.”
His arms wrapped around you completely, pulling you against his chest beneath the covers. He pressed a kiss to your temple, one of his strong hands cradling your head. “I’m not scared. And I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, feeling the heaviness of sleep weighing you down. “It’s you and me, baby. Together.”
#mayans fx#mayans mc#mayansmc#mayans x reader#mayans imagine#bishop losa#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa x you#obispo losa#obispo bishop losa#bishop losa fanfiction#bishop losa imagine#bishop losa fluff#bishop losa angst
247 notes
·
View notes