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flightlessangelwings · 7 months

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Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism

Bishop Losa x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.

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

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

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

“Bish…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

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Black Satin: Obispo 'Bishop' Losa x Reader (NSFW)

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Holiday Shopping!

Warnings: NSFW - Lingerie

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u

Following on from TheWall!Series:

Part One: Poker Night - Bishop's poker night is interrupted by gunshots.

Part Two: Ambush - Bishop finds out why you were at The Wall that night.

Part Three: Risk - Your dedication to the cause may be the death of you.

Part Four: Lucky - Bishop realises how lucky he is.

Part Five: Nighttime Tea (feat Neron Vargas) - Bishop comes home to find you sleeping.

Part Six: Happy - Bishop realises how happy he is.

Bishop finds the glossy black bag at the top of the closet in the bedroom. You’d finished the last of the holiday shopping this afternoon and had sent him in to retrieve the rest of the Christmas gifts for wrapping when he comes across it. At first, he thinks it must be for one of girls but then he opens it, and his mouth goes dry. It’s black satin, with a lace trim around the neckline.

It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have been intimate, not since before the shooting. You’ve been in recovery, juggling the community centre and the underground network. The desire is there, it’s always there but he’s reserved with it. He jerks off in the shower almost daily, thinking about those nights he’s spent wrapped up in you, fingers in your hair as he kisses you into oblivion.

Fuck he’s hard already just imagining you in this thing. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, desperate for relief. He finds himself on the edge of the bed, the satin clutched in his fist as he palms himself through his jeans. It won’t take long, he tells himself. Five minutes at most because the images in his mind, they have him on a hair trigger.

He unbuttons his jeans; his hand slipping under the waistband of his underwear and gripping his cock around the base as he presses the fabric to his face. It smells like you, the scent of your perfume clings to it and he moans at the thought of the material brushing across your bare skin in the dressing room.

That’s how you find him.

His cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink as you lean in the doorway and clear your throat.

“Do you want me to put it on?”

“Yea.” He says, his voice rough. “Yea I do.”

You take the garment from his balled fist, your fingertips teasing along the line of his jaw before you tip his chin up towards you so that you can look into his eyes.

“Take your clothes off for me Obispo.” You murmur as your nose trails along the length of his, your lips barely brushing. “I want to see you too.”

He undresses while you’re in the bathroom, his cock jutting out, already aching and leaking. When the door opens, and you step out he’s surprised he doesn’t come right there and then.

You’re a vision in black satin, the slip hugs your curves just right, the hem falling across your thighs. Underneath you're bare for him, he catches a flash as you approach, and he mutters an oath because he has never been more turned on than he is right now.

You slide into his lap, thighs hugging his hips. He moans as your wetness rubs over the length of his cock, covering him in your slick. Your hands thread through his hair, tugging just a little and it sends him through the stratosphere, your lips brushing over his. His hips move compulsively, the tip of his dick rubbing against your clit as your tongue dips into his mouth in that sinful little way of yours.

His palms chase over the satin, stroking, kneading, caressing every part of you he can get his hands on. He whines as his cock rubs over your entrance, the tip slipping just inside. Fuck you feel good, but it’s nowhere near enough, he needs all of you right now, he needs…

You take him deeper, drawing him in until he can focus on is the way your molten hot core grips his dick. It’s heaven, absolute fucking heaven. If he dies tonight, it’ll be a happy man.

His hands come to rest on your waist as you start to move, a slow roll of the hips that has him thrusting up to meet you. Already he can feel that tingle in his lower back, the heat rushing through his nerve endings. He’s not going to last long but neither are you, he can tell by the way you clench around him, the fact your breath turns ragged, your kisses languid and messy.

You’re fucking beautiful when you climax, your mouth covers his, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck as he drinks in your pleasure. It’s that that tips him over the edge, the knowledge that he’s done that to you, that he’s the only man that gets to make you come. He spills himself deep inside you, your hips flush against his.

“Fuck.” He whispers into your mouth, a smile ghosting across his lips. “I forgot how good we are at this.”

You laugh and that fucking sound…

It’s the best gift he’s received all year.

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

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

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

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023 #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa x you #obispo bishop losa #obispo bishop losa x you #obispo bishop losa x reader

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drabbles-mc · 2 months

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Butterflies

Bishop Losa x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluffy feels

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

Prompt: butterflies

Word Count: 100

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

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

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

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

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ravennaortiz · 5 months

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Day 12: Tree Decorating

Summary: Fluff with Bishop x Reader

It had been a long day for Bishop, every part of his body ached as he got off his motorcycle. Glancing at his watch he saw he had long ago missed dinner. Sighing heavily he made his way to the front door. He figured you must not be to mad as the porch light was on for him. Stepping inside he was greeted by the smell of cinnamon, cookies and the sound of your angelic voice singing Christmas Carols.

Kicking his boots off and hanging his kutte up he made his way through the house following your siren call. Finding you in the kitchen resetting the table for dinner. You never ceased to surprise him. "I don't deserve a woman like you" he stated as he saw you notice him in the door way. "I know" you replied with a smirk before making your way to him and kissing his cheek. "A call next time" you stated firmly as you motioned for him to sit and eat. "I promise I will. What kind of witch are you that knew I was on my way?" inquired Bishop as he dug into the piping hot pozole. You laughed before replying. "That would be Gilly calling to plead your case and to ask if I would send leftovers with you tomorrow" you replied as you poured a glass of wine for yourself. Bishop chuckled, his men always looked forward to your cooking.

"So of course since I had extra time I made enough for all of them. Think you can remember to take it in" you replied sending him a look. "Thought you weren't mad at me?" inquired Bishop as he sent you a smile. "I don't recall saying that at all Mr. Too Good to Phone his Wife that he will be four hours late" you replied as you made your way out of the kitchen.

"Clean up once your done and come help me with decorate the Christmas Tree" you called over your shoulder before resuming your caroling. Bishop smiled to himself. He had lucked out with you for sure.

Tag List: @darqchilddaydreamz

#ravennasmasterlist #christmas #mayans mc imagines #mayans imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo bishop losa

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ficnation · 9 months

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The Heart Wants What It Wants

Main Masterlist

Mayans MC Masterlist

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

!moodboards made by me!

Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter

Chapter 2: A Sweet Connection

Chapter 1: Untitled

Chapter 2: Untitled

Chapter 1: Untitled

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narcolini · 1 year

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making exceptions

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

warnings for descriptions of kidnap, reader in shock

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

tagging: @cositapreciosa @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas

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

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

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

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

You nod, stepping back to let him do it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, looking past him still.

He says your name once.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I don’t want you to…’ You fade off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Can I come in?’ he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I wish I could—’

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

‘Sorry.’

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

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

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

‘Tonight?’ He nods. ‘Yeah.’

You hesitate. ‘And after that?’

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

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

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

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

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

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mikeys-thighs · 2 years

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Somethin’ Wrong Here

Bishop x Reader

Summary: Bishop’s fiancee’s reaction to some the events in Season 4, Episode 4.

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol consumption, arguing/yelling

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This has been taking up space in my head since I watched the episode and I just had to write it out. No use of y/n or gender pronouns. Hope y’all like it despite it being an all hurt/no comfort...

Part 1 | Part 2

A text from Cielo had you angrily driving to the clubhouse. How dare that asshole you called a fiancé pull this kind of shit. All that drama with Canche and Yuma had caused a small rift in between you and Obispo; it was actually a bigger issue than either of you wanted to admit. You had been fighting constantly since the attack at the clubhouse, but you were patient and hoped things would work out soon. Well you were trying to but it seemed Bishop thought it was easier to drink his problems away. The wedding had even been pushed back a couple of months in the wait for things to calm down. Unfortunately things just seemed to be getting worse and not better, but as his old lady that is what you signed up for. You knew what you were getting into when you first fell in love with him. But you never expected this.

Your car all but screeched to a halt once inside the club gates. You took a second to calm down a little before leaving the car. It was important that you did not cause a scene until you confirmed what Cielo texted was true. If some random puta was actually putting the moves on him and he wasn’t shutting it down, there was going to be hell to pay. One more deep breath and then you were walking through the main door. 5 seconds. All it took was five seconds for your world to flip upside down. There was your old man doing shots with some woman you had never seen before. He was too wrapped up in telling her how he could keep up with her all night to even notice that someone had walked into the clubhouse. It was obvious to anyone breathing that those two were flirting and it instantly made your blood boil. The fucking audacity of this man.

You slammed the door loudly, finally gaining his attention. Bishop was also too far gone to even register that he was in some deep shit. You stomped over to where he was sitting with that bitch, and you were almost positive that there was actual steam coming out of your ears.

“Obispo Losa, you got a lot of fucking nerve.” You started not caring that you were drawing attention.

“Cariño! Sit down, have a drink.” He drunkenly smiled at you.

“Really that’s all you have to say to me! This is the first time I have seen you in DAYS and I find you flirting with some skank. But you want me to have a drink. Sure makes sense.” You were fuming at this point.

The rando chose to jump in “Seems like you could use one, sweetheart. Might help get that stick out your ass.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead. Who the hell did she think she was? Was she part of the reason you were here right now? Yes, but you would deal with her afterwards.

“Excuse me. I don’t even know you gringita, Also I wasn't fucking talking to you, so mind ya business,” You snapped, “And you,” you turned to Bishop ready to give him a piece of your mind.

“Hey! Watch it. Treenie is a nice girl. She enjoys my company unlike somebody.” He cut you off. He no longer looked happy to see you; he was scowling now

“Fuck you. I love spending time with you. I don’t particularly like this version of you though.” You gestured to his current state. “I also don’t like receiving texts from Cielo about your drinking and flirting.” He went to defend himself, but your intense glare stopped him. “Don’t try to deny it, pendejo. I heard the little innuendo you both made just now. Not to mention the way you were looking at her. It is a look I am very familiar with.”

“I’m sorry, isn't he a grown man? He can do whatever he wants.” Treenie interrupted, a stupid smirk on her face.

“I thought I told you to mind your business. Butt in again and I’ll break your nose.” You threatened turning your gaze on her. A threat all the Santo Padre members knew you would act on and probably soon.

Bishop slammed his hand on the table,and you jumped at the noise. If he was mad at you before he was downright infuriated now.A shot glass shattered as it rolled off the table and you slowly met Bish’s eyes. There was nothing but rage and hate swirling in them, not even a smidge of their usual adoration. Even during your worst fights he had never looked at you with such contempt. He sternly pointed a finger at you.

“I told you to watch the attitude. Now I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, but it ends now.”

You started to argue back but he stopped you.

“No! I’m talking, you’re listening. You don’t get to come in here and act like a fucking brat. This is my sanctuary where I come to find peace from all your fucking nagging. Except now I gotta deal with shit here, and at home.”

You could feel your face getting hot with embarrassment. It was one thing for you to argue in private, but something else entirely to do it in public. You could feel everyone’s gazes on the two of you. It was probably like watching a car accident . They knew they should probably look away but couldn’t.

This was not how you saw this going. Honestly you had no idea how it was going to turn out when you got here. You figured you would yell at him and maybe fight the bitch for trying to sleep with your fiancé. Then Bishop would’ve dragged to a secluded part of the clubhouse for a round of make up sex. So what happened next caught you completely off guard.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe there was a reason I haven’t been home? Huh? Well, I’ll tell you why. It is because I can’t fucking stand to be around you. All you do is bitch and complain about everything. The dirty dishes, the neighbors dog shitting in our lawn, picking the cake flavor for a wedding I DON’T EVEN FUCKING WANT!” He continued on but you stopped listening.

He didn’t want to marry you… That had opened the floodgates and you were quick to wipe the tears away. Was all that planning and how excited he seemed to spend the rest of your lives together a lie? An act he put on to keep you happy? Well if that was what he wanted then fine.

You swiftly took off the ring on your left ring finger and chucked it as his stupid head. It was enough to shut him up. The clatter of the ring seemed to echo in the dead quiet clubhouse. It also caused everyone in the room to unfreeze and turn away. You didn’t bother to wipe your tears as you stepped closer to him. With a gentle tug of his beard, that he didn’t deserve, you forced him to make eye contact with you. He had to know you meant what you were about to say.

“I hate you Obispo and I never want to see you again.” You turn on your heel and leave the clubhouse.

You had made it all the way to your car before somebody followed you. As you looked over your shoulder you saw it was Gilly. He didn’t say anything, just held his hand for your keys. You had no energy to argue, so you handed them over and got in the passenger seat. He sent you a small smile before driving away. Thankfully he didn’t try to start a conversation, you were too busy crying anyway.. After dropping him off, you drove to the closest hotel. There was no way you could actually return to the home you used to share with Bishop tonight. It would hurt too much. Although the hotel room didn’t do much to dull the ache in your heart either.

#bishop losa x reader #bishop losa imagine #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 4- Breath Play

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

Word count- 985

Warnings- smut (18+ only), choking, established relationship, unprotected sex

Notes- Oof this one was fun to write! Bishop is so sexy and just imagining putting myself in this position with him is just so hot!! Enjoy! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates. Reblogs highly appreciated!

“Fuck… Baby… You’re so…”

Bishop grunted as he pounded into you over and over again. Skin slapped against skin as he rocked his hips against yours in a fast and steady rhythm. He had your leg hooked over his shoulder so that he could drive himself deeper into you, and the way you screamed in pleasure drove him wild.

“Bish… You… Fuck…” you couldn’t even form a compelte thought from the way he filled you with his cock over and over again. All you could do was lay there and take it, and you were more than alright with that.

Bishop’s eyes darkened as he watched you under him. The way your mouth dropped open to let all the beautiful sounds you made out, the way your eyes glazed over, the way your breasts swung with every thrust, all of it was perfection to him. There was only one thing that could make this hotter.

“Baby,” he groaned as he stilled his cock inside you and caught his breath for a moment, “Baby, do you trust me?”

You blinked a few times to focus your gaze and swallowed hard before you answered, “You know I do Bish,” you whispered.

His eyes closed when he felt your inner muscles clench around him and he let out a low growl at the feeling, “Baby, you look so fucking pretty,” his voice was low as his hand ran up your stomach. Bishop paused when he reached your breast and gave it a firm squeeze before he trailed his hand further up your body, “But I think you’d look even prettier,” he panted, “Like this.”

Bishop wrapped his fingers around your neck and gave it a slight squeeze. You gasped and arched your back, but before you could let out any other sound, he covered your mouth and nose with his other hand. Your eyes shot open, but not from fear. You had never been more turned on in your life. And Bishop knew that look in your eyes all too well.

“Oh shit,” he groaned as he gave an experimental thrust.

Your hands grabbed onto his wrists as your mind swam in bliss. You moaned into his hand as your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was softer as he stopped again. Bishop waited for you to look at him before continuing, “Stay with me baby. You tap me three times if you need to stop. Ok?”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly as you gave his wrists a firm squeeze. This was something new for both of you, but it was exciting and so hot. You trusted Bishop with your very life, and you weren't about to stop trusting him now.

He murmured your name as he rocked his hips against yours slowly. He was testing the waters. With every thrust of his hips, every time he drove his cock deep into your body, he gave your neck an extra squeeze. Not too hard, it was just enough to make your head spin while still feeling the ecstasy of his cock inside you.

In no time, Bishop worked up to the pace he had before and pounded into you with heated abandon. The clench of your muscles around him made Bishop groan loudly, his own sounds now filling the room instead of yours. His grip on your neck stayed firm, enough to shorten your breath but not enough to actually harm you. Bishop would never harm you.

Your own moans were muffled by his hand, but tears soon spilled from the corners of your eyes. The stimulation of how hard he thrust into you paired with the lack of air created something entirely new for you. And every time Bishop’s cock hit your G-spot perfectly, you felt like you could fly off the bed if he hadn’t held onto you so tightly.

“Fuck dulzura,” he grunted through gritted teeth, “I need you to cum for me,” strands of his hair stuck to his forehead as he watched your every reaction while he pounded into you, “Cum, baby, you can do it.”

Splotches of black filled your vision as your air supply lessened. You felt so wonderfully helpless in his grip, and you felt the way your body trembled at his touch. Bishop’s words were that final push you needed to send you over the edge and with just a few more thrusts and an extra squeeze of his hands, you came hard.

Just as you hit your climax, Bishop let go of your mouth and neck and the big gasp of air made you cum harder than you ever had before. You let out a scream as your hands flew down to the mattress and you gripped it hard as your entire body shook from the weight of your orgasm. Tears spilled down your face freely as you cried out as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you.

“That’s it baby,” Bishop fucked you through your intense climax, “That’s my good fucking girl,” he sped up his thrusts as his hips became erratic against yours. He held off as long as he could in order to watch you fall apart before he finally let himself surrender to his own pleasure. With a low groan of your name, he came deep inside you with a few final harsh thrusts.

Exhausted, Bishop collapsed down on top of you and together you laid in a sweaty, panting mess for several moments. When Bishop regained his strength, he propped himself onto his elbow and checked you over, “You alright, baby?”

You kept your eyes closed but wrapped your arms and legs around him, “Never fucking better,” you replied with a hoarse laugh.

Bishop caressed the side of your face as a rumble of laughter echoed in his chest, “You did good, baby,” he leaned froward and kissed you tenderly, “So fucking good for me, dulzura.”

#bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa fanfiction #bishop losa fanfic #obispo bishop losa #obispo bishop losa x reader #obispo bishop losa x you #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

Note

🌹

That’s how you find him.

His cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink as you lean in the doorway and clear your throat.

“Do you want me to put it on?”

Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop Losa x Reader - Holiday Bingo: Holiday Shopping - 8th Dec

@crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @sisinever @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@jadesamhart

#mayans mc fanfiction #bishop losa #obispo losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa x you #obispo losa x reader #obispo bishop losa #obispo bishop losa x reader #obispo bishop losa x you #bishop mayans #bishop

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

Disaster Dates: Movie Night

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Disaster Dates Masterlist

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

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 2.2k

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

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

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

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

He should’ve just stuck to what he knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yea?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 16

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Reader x Bishop Losa

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked.

Warnings: Oral sex; unprotected sex; piv; anal; double penetration; cursing

*Preciosa means precious or gem

*Dulzura means sweetness

They can’t stop bickering over you.

It’s not fair. You’re meant to be the center of attention, but they seem more concerned with getting their own ends off than giving a shit about you. It’s a struggle, and you’re pissed.

You draw yourself off of Angel’s cock with a slick suck, wiping your messy mouth against the back of your arm as you climb off of the bed, beginning to search for your clothes. You’re pulling up your panties by the time they notice.

“...The hell are you going?”

Angel asks it first. Maybe his slicked cock caught a chill in your absence.

“Somewhere else,” You answer flatly, wriggling the underwear up over your hips.

“Why, preciosa?” Bishop asks.

“You’re kidding, right?” You plant your hands on your hips, glancing between the two of you. “It’s like I’m not even here. You could have anyone between the two of you. So tell me if there’s someone down there that you want me to send up here, ‘cause I’d rather be with guys that actually wanna fuck me, not have a dick measuring contest.”

You see the two of them trade gazes before you turn away, trying to find where they’d thrown your pants. You hear the steady footfalls behind you, and you go still as Angel palms your hip. You know it’s him by the feeling of his cool rings against your skin.

“Hang on,” He murmurs, head dipping to brush against your jaw. Bishop crowds in beside you, boxing you between the two of them.

“We didn’t mean to ignore you, dulzura,” Bishop insists. You can feel his cock brushing against you. You bite your lip, trying to stem the want you feel for them.

“You can leave if you like, but I don’t want you to,” Angel murmurs. You feel Bishop’s hand lift from you, and feel Angel squirm out of the way of a jabbing poke. Then he corrects, “We don’t want you to.”

You glance between the two of them, wary for a moment.

“...If y’all start acting up again, I’m leaving,” You warn.

“Understood,” Angel agrees over Bishop’s murmur of, “Of course.”

They don’t act up.

Well, not exactly.

You do have to flick Angel’s forehead once, when he tries to muscle in on Bishop eating your pussy. Bishop gives him a warning sidelong glance, his lips still brushing against your mound. Angel’s eyes narrow at him, his shoulder shoving in against Bishop’s before you give him that petulant flick. Angel’s eyes dart to you, soft and penitent, before he’s climbing up, covering your mouth with his. You smile into the embrace, hooking your arm around his shoulders and sliding your hand up into his hair. He smooths his hand over your thigh, over your hip, along your belly before he skims his fingertips over your sensitive, pebbling nipple. You arch up into the touch, slipping another hand into Bishop’s hair. You give both men a tug, and they groan in tandem.

You shiver between them, letting your head loll to the side as Angel’s kisses lower to your neck. You shift your hips down into Bishop’s questing fingers and tongue, whining softly, as he curls them, beckoning toward himself.

“Fuck, Obispo,” You mumble. You feel Angel go still, affronted, and you turn your head, giving his head a kiss. Angel glances up at you, and you give him a soft, knowing smile. He leans up into you, slipping his tongue between your lips—perhaps to keep you from praising the club president further.

“Want you,” You mumble fervently as Angel’s kiss breaks, “Please.”

Both lean back, sharing a glance before turning to you again.

“Which?” Angel asks. You swallow thickly, body washing over with nervous heat.

“Both?”

“Fuck,” Bishop mumbles, over Angel’s emphatic, “Damn.”

Your face manages a flustered smile, even as your cunt and ass throb around them. You lean down against Angel’s chest, adjusting to the feeling of the two of them filling you. Bishop crowds close against your back, seating himself deeper as he lays nipping kisses along your shoulder.

“How are you holding up, dulzura?” Bishop murmurs into your skin. You shudder, giving a tentative shift of your hips, and loosing a whimper at the overwhelming feeling of them.

“I think she likes it,” Angel coos, gripping your jaw to hold your gaze, “I think we’re scrambling her pretty little brain.”

You sway into him as if drunk, your mind muddled by the sensation as you catch his lips in a kiss. Bishop chuckles behind you. He hooks an arm around your shoulder, drawing your back against his chest and straightening the two of you up.

“Is that right?” Bishop murmurs. “I think this is the longest I’ve ever had you quiet.”

You nearly laugh, fighting back the sound as you weakly whack at his thigh.

“Move,” You manage to mumble, “One of you—Just—Oh—” Your plea catches in your throat as Angel gives his hips a shove up and into you. Bishop groans softly, tightening his arm around your shoulders as the three of you begin to move in tandem. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of them filling you so completely. You let your head tip back against Bishop’s shoulder, shivering as their hands grope and trail across your body. You whimper as the two of them move, Bishop shifting in as Angel eases back, and Angel pressing back in as Bishop pulls back. You find yourself practically passed between them with each thrust and grind.

You don’t try to shield your whimpers and whines. Their names fall from your mouth as you practically vibrate between them, overstimulated and brainless.

Bishop grasps the back of your neck, steering your head down to kiss Angel. You accept the position and the kiss happily, squeezing down around their cocks as you roll your hips against them. Angel kisses your fervently as Bishop sucks a harsh hickey against your neck.

“Sweet little thing, aren’t you,” Angel chuckles. You don’t answer; just sag against his chest. Bishop rubs his hand across your back, easing out carefully,and chuckling as you whimper and shake against him. Angel curls his arms around you, cuddling you into his chest. You nuzzle into his neck weakly, shivering.

“...You got her?” Bishop directs the question to Angel, and you feel him nod a moment later. You tip your head toward Bishop, smiling tiredly as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Night, Obisopa.”

“Goodnght, dulzura.”

You watch him go for a moment before you settled closed against Angel’s chest.

“Wanna get cleaned up?”

“Later,” You sigh. “I don’t think I can stand right now.”

Tag list: @leaveinthelurk ; @missredherring ; @fangirlfreakingout ; @stevie25 ; @jvalentinesworld-cokes-hyna ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @karie-me-home ; @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly ; @guyfieriii (tried to tag and it won’t let me D: ) ; @moonlightburned ; @amneris21 ; @shiftingsands14 ; @cloudohell ; @blueeyesatnight ; @inlovewithhisblueeyes ; @reaperofmen ; @winchestershiresauce

#Angel Reyes x Reader #Bishop Losa x Reader #Angel Reyes x You #Bishop Losa x You #Angel Reyes x Reader x Bishop Losa #Angel Reyes x You x Bishop Losa #Kinktober 2022 #Kinktober #Youvebeenlivingfictional Kinktober 2022

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ficnation · 2 years

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Loss - Bishop Losa x Reader

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

Word count: 1,0k+

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female! Reader

Warnings: spoilers for season 2, angsty

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

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐌.𝐂. 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep well, mami.”

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bishop423 · 6 months

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 2 years

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Midnight Ride

Rating: Explicit (That means NO ONE UNDER 18)

Fandom: Mayans MC

Ship: Obispo 'Bishop' Losa x reader/you (cishet female)

Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, public sex, probably unsanitary too.

Words: 2,598

Summary: After the club settles the score for Riz, a troubled Bishop takes you for a ride in the desert. And you take him for a ride.

A/N: I know I've niched myself as a Pedro Pascal character fanfic blog but I'm in a bit of a Bish rabbit hole atm and I couldn't stop thinking about this. And when I can't stop thinking about something, I have to write it. You're welcome.

That night EZ was voted in, and the crew went on that little killing spree to avenge Riz? It was supposed to settle Bishop's nerves as well as the score. The bloodlust, savage and true, was quenched, the revenge working just as it was supposed to. He knew the blowback that killing the Vatos would bring, they all knew, and they were good with that. But a dead Son on top of that? Fuck, that complicated shit.

He's deep in thought when they return to the scrap yard. He had been looking forward to going home, sleep in your arms, perhaps even get seven hours of uninterrupted rest. Instead, he has a feeling he's heading towards an all-nighter on his throne: whiskey and smokes his only companions.

He sees you come out of the clubhouse as he parks his bike, and the sight throws him a little. He didn't expect you to be here this late, on this night.

He takes off his helmet, pulls off his gloves. Walks across the gravel, ascends the stairs, up to you, gloriously backlit by the light spilling out through the open door. A dark angel come to save him from all of this shit, if only for a sinful moment.

"You're still here," he says when he's on the porch, right in front of you.

"So are you," you remark coolly, and he hears the little jab in your voice. He hasn't been home much. You're not a needy partner, but you don't like being on the outside. And you have been on the outside a lot lately.

For a moment, the two of you lock gazes. Both of you are by nature unyielding, but his position gives him the upper hand. It has to, at least here, with the club watching.

"You gonna take me home, Obispo?" you ask, now a little more huskily. Bishop hesitates, club matters on his mind. He needs to sit down with the ones closest to him, figure shit out.

Hank, coming up the stairs right behind him, pats his shoulder. "Go, Prez. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."

So you find yourself glued to him, arms around his waist, cheek resting on the back of his kutte, as he drives the both of you out of the scrap yard. Reaching the road outside, he slows down to a stop, puts one foot to the ground and turns his head.

"Is it okay if we take a little ride?"

"Absolutely," you reply immediately, and he turns right instead of left. Out of town. There's no traffic, and the night is cool, Bishop's body warm against yours, the bike roaring underneath you. This is what you signed up for, just you and him on the open road, becoming one with the machine, the engine vibrations traveling through your bodies as you melt together. You feel the strength and focus in his back muscles and abs as he handles the bike. He may not be a physically tall man, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in intelligence, tenacity, and dedication. Besides, there are other inches that matter, and in that department he has been blessed by the gods.

Bishop takes you out to the desert, where the full moon renders the arid landscape blue and silver. The low night temperature and the force of the wind makes you shiver slightly. Bishop feels it, and releases one hand from the handle, putting it over yours, clasped together at his belly. He doesn't let go until he goes off road, on a small path leading up to a plateu. The last distance is slightly bumpy, and you hold onto him hard. You're still hugging him to you when he stops and kills the engine.

"Okay?" You hear the grin in his voice when he leans back a little, flipping down the kickstand and letting go of the clutch.

"Yeah," you reply and take off the helmet, handing it to him. He hangs it on the handlebar together with his, before reaching his hand back and patting your knee.

"Get up here."

You dismount the bike, a little Bambi-legged as always after a ride, your thighs tingling with the low roar of the engine. The raw hp strength always get you, no matter how many times you ride. Bishop pulls out the bedroll and as you swing your leg over the bike again, this time in front of him, he wraps the blanket around you.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

His arms encircle you, pulling your back snug against his front, and his chin lands on your shoulder with a deep sigh. You tip your head back and look up at the stars.

"Look, baby. So pretty."

"I am looking." His face, however, is not turned skywards, but towards you, his lips touching your ear. "It is pretty."

You hum. He's not much of a romantic, and you don't need that anyway, but he does know how to sweet talk you when he wants to.

The silence out here is almost deafening after the road. Normally you wouldn't mind, but you're out here for a reason.

"Talk to me, Obispo," you ask in a low voice. "It's not just Riz. You've been a ghost for the past few weeks."

He sighs again, deeply. He never tells you anything that could compromise you, but he knows how to convey the burden of the hard decisions he has to make to you, without saying anything about the actual business. And now, he tells you what he can.

"I'm afraid it's just gonna get worse from here, querida," he finishes. You nod.

"Sounds like it."

"Maybe you should go visit your sister for a while - "

"Fuck you, Bish, I'm not visiting nobody."

He chuckles low in his voice, sending a whiff of cigarette breath against your skin. He smokes too much, but you're not going to nag about that. That is not your job.

"Forgot I can't tell you what to do."

"Tell me I'm not crazy for thinking I should be here, with you," you ask him in a low voice. This thing that you have: it's not easy. You don't approve of even a fraction of the shit the Mayans do. You hate how they treat women. And yet, you've longed for this your whole life: the family, the loyalty, the fearlessness.

And Obispo. Goddammit, if you could stop loving him, you would.

"No, querida, no estás loca."

His mustache tickles when he presses his lips to your neck. His arms shift as he moves one hand to your chest, the other between your thighs. He cups you roughly, his broad palm pushing against your apex, bringing you in closer, as if it were at all possible. Your next breath comes out as a small gasp, and your core grows heavy and warm.

"I know that's your gun in your kutte, but do you have another one in your pants...?"

"You know I can't fit two guns there," he murmurs as he grinds against your ass. You snort out a laugh before turning your head so that you can reach him for a kiss. Your lips immediately open up for his tongue, letting it in, your tastebuds already so used to the taste of stale cigarettes on him that you don't mind it anymore. He claims you with the all but regal self-confidence of a man who knows what should be rendered unto him, yet with the gratitude of a much simpler man who is aware of how lucky he is to have you. You reach your arm up and back, fingers finding his thick, dark hair with its sprinkles of gray, and pull him in closer. A grunt spills from his mouth to yours, and he starts to try to unbutton your plaid. Finding his gloved fingers too clumsy to handle the small buttons, he instead rips it open. You growl in protest, but he's already palming your breasts through your top, the push-up bra forming a rack you're ashamed to say you're proud of. Some feminist. Maybe you're just a bad girl when it all comes around, looking for a bad boy on a bike.

Your bad boy is growing harder harder in his jeans by the second, his thighs hugging into yours, his lips finally leaving yours for a toothy hike down the slope of your neck, reaching the valley of your shoulder. You're already so wet and needy for him. It's been a while, you realize: a very unwelcome effect of his club life taking up most of his time is the absence of sex. It is what it is, but here and now, with his hard cock struggling against the stiff denim of his jeans, and his hands pulling your top and bra down to expose your tits to the cool night air, and your heatbeats thrumming in your pussy, you don't understand how you stand for it. How do you survive without having him inside you every single day?

He rolls your stiff nipples between his fingers, brands your neck and shoulder with his mouth, and when you moan his name, he pushes you down over the rise of the fuel tank. He stands up and you hear the jingle of his belt being unbuckled.

"How do you want me, mi reina?"

You stand up as well and get off the bike. Quickly, you kick off your boots, your jeans and panties going the same way in the dark, before pushing him back down onto the seat of his bike. He's pulled himself out and is holding his thick cock in his hand, waiting for you.

"Obispo... that is so goddamn gorgeous," you sigh, and it causes him to twitch.

"Come here, querida."

You scramble onto his lap, settling your thighs over his, your bare feet finding the cold metal of the back axels for a little perch as you help him guide himself into your warmth. You lock your lips with his and moan as he fills you up and stretches you out. Finally. Fucking finally.

"Fuck..." Bishop groans as his hands seek out the soft flesh of your ass to knead. "Be good to me, baby." He kisses you breathlessly as his fingers dig into your ass cheeks. "I need you to be good to me."

"I promise." You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back as you start to move lazily on his cock. "I love your hands on me, Obispo, makes me feel so good."

"Yeah?" He slides one hand up your spine, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

"Yeah." Your moan breaks the kiss and lean your forehead to his instead, intently staring into his brown eyes, now liquid and almost black. You keep to a slow grind, still getting used to that delicious, perfect stretch. You thread your fingers through his hair, massage his neck, treat him just as good as he begged you to. You kiss him, moan assurances of how good he feels inside of you into his ear, bite the lobe.

The silence, so far broken only by your wanton sounds, shatters at the sudden yipping howls of coyotes. You freeze mid-grind, looking around you in the moonlit landscape, seeing nothing. Biship chuckles, pulling you into his embrace.

"They're far away, querida, no need to be scared."

"I'm not scared," you point out immediately. Bishop curls his pointer finger under your chin, thumb caressing over your slight pout.

"Forgot. You're not afraid of anything."

"You're forgotting a lot about me lately," you smirk. "Should I be worried?"

"There's one thing that I haven't forgotten, and that's how good your wet little cunt feels wrapped around my cock..." He dips his face down to your breasts and sucks one hard nipple into his mouth. The mustache scratches your sensitive skin deliciously, and you arch back with a loud moan. To hell with going slow: you need to fuck him.

Finding a rhythm that hits you in the right spot, you start to ride him faster, hips undulating on him, his hands holding you and helping your pace, his lips on yours, or on your tits, or your neck. Your moans grow louder and more desperate as you climb higher and higher, and you brace yourself with one hand on the fuel tank behind you as you ride him home, your other hand clasping the back of Bishop's head tightly.

"Cum for me, querida," he barks, bringing his hand down on your ass once, then stuttering on his breath as the impact of leather on skin makes you clench down on his cock like a vice. Your orgasm pulls a desperate sound out of you that echoes across the desert and shuts the coyotes up.

Bishop leans forward, draping you over the curve of the beautiful, beetle green fuel tank, and slams into you, wrapping your legs around him before chasing his own release. When you reach down to tease your clit, he brushes your hand away and uses his own instead, rubbing you with fingers covered with supple leather. Your bundle of nerves starts to gather immediately as you reach one arm up overhead and grab onto the riser. You pull him in for a kiss, holding onto him as much for connection as for balance.

He fucks you to a leg-shaking orgasm, his own control slipping as soon as your pussy starts to pulsate with the release. Cursing loudly, he empties himself in you, his thrusts slowing down to a soft roll of his hips against yours as he kisses you. Finally, he pulls you back up onto his lap, and wraps his arms around you as he leans his face between your breasts. Your heart calms down as you comb through his hair with your fingers, the occasional aftershock causing your muscles to twitch. Every time he feels you shudder, he runs his hands up and down your back and pulls you in closer.

"You're freezing," he eventually states, as your skin is cooling off and the shivers are caused by the cold and not some lingering jolts of pleasure. He lifts his head and looks at you.

"I'm fine, baby," you assure him. A small smile plays underneath his mustache.

"I know you are."

He kisses you one final time before you get off the bike. Your panties are gone - you shudder to think that an animal of some kind maybe ran off with them - but you pull your jeans and boots back on, and straighten out your bra and top before tying the plaid around your waist to keep it closed for the ride home.

Bishop watches you as he tucks himself back in and rolls up the blanket. He doesn't appreciate you enough, that much is obvious. He should make more time for you. Keep you close.

He's going to need you, he knows that.

"What?" you smile when you catch him looking at you. He looks down, suddenly bashful, a smile of his own appearing on his lips. He'd never tell you just how sweet he sometimes finds you when he watches you do something inane, like putting on your clothes after a good fuck. You'd have his head on a plate.

"Nothing."

"So full of secrets," you sigh and grab the helmets, handing Bishop's over to him. He looks up then, his smile warm and genuine in the moonlight.

"Thank you, querida."

"You're welcome, Obispo."

You both know it was not the helmet he was thanking you for.

#my fic #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc #obispo losa #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa fanfic #obispo losa fanfic #obispo losa x you #obispo losa x reader

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 2 years

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Warnings: Fluff and slight swearing.

WC: 545

Enjoy x

You closed the door as quietly as you could and made a run for it barefoot to the sidewalk. Your heels cradled in your bent pointer finger and your clutch in the other. You were glad when you woke up that you and the stranger you drunkenly went home with after an online match date, were still fully dressed. You knew you were on an emotional roller coaster, some days you were a hard core boss bitch and other days you were a broken little girl that just wanted to be loved and wanted to be wanted.

As you rounded the corner of the street, you saw him perched on the seat of his motor bike, his salt and pepper hair shinning in the morning sun, his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and you blushed slightly when Bishop raised an eye brow at you and stood to his feet,

“How old are you?” he almost growled.

“What kind of question is that?” you scoffed as you got closer to him.

“What do you think your achieving by doing what your doing? You’re not fucking 19, Y/N”

“No Bishop, I’ am not. I’ am a grown ass woman”

“Your not acting like one, that’s for fucking sure” You rolled your eyes before leaning down to slip your heels back on “Nothing to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” you stood back up and leant into the leg that you still hadn’t put the heel on “I want to be loved Bishop. I want the butterflies; I want to be important to someone. I want to be the last thing they think of before they go to sleep, the first thing they think of when they wake up. Is that to much to ask for?”

“Spending the night with some random asshole you don’t even know isn’t going to get you that, it’s going to get you in trouble” he almost barked at you.

You rolled your eyes again and slipped your other heel back on, "If I knew you were going to have a go at me I would have called someone else. Why do you care so much?”

“Because what you want is right in front of you, but your too stubborn to see it”

Your eyes blew open and locked with his. Bishop’s cheeks started to turn red and a small smile started to pull to your face as realisation set in. You stepped closer to him, reaching out your hand and cupping his cheek, the prickle of his beard sending a spark through you,

“Why haven’t you said anything before?” you said above a whisper, your thumb running along his jaw.

“Because you’ve been too busy doing what your doing, wanted you to get your need for that shit out of your system” Bishop smirked at you, taking a step forward placing both his hands on your hips.

“I never needed to do all that stuff Bishop; I’ve always wanted you but I didn’t think you saw me like that”

You lent over and kissed his cheek, his hand gripped your hips tighter,

“I see you like that sweetheart, more then that. But we are going to do this right. Jump on, I’m taking you to breakfast”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @jemmakates @gillysoldlady

#bishop losa x you #bishop x reader #bishop losa #obispo losa #manyans mc #mayans x reader #mayansmc

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