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#bishop losa
imagineredwood · 1 month
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Group HC - The Boys reactions to getting caught stealing your panties 👙
I know. I know. It’s terrible and gross and icky I KNOW 😭😭 but I saw HCs for another shows characters around this idea and I couldn’t get it out of my head and it triggered the memory that this is actually canon for Juice and…yeah. Here we are 🧍🏻‍♀️
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He’s not sorry. Or embarrassed. He loves you, loves everything about you. He thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread. He worships you and the ground beneath your feet. So why wouldn’t he steal your panties? They’re yours, and they rest against his most favorite part of you all day 🤷🏻‍♀️ He won’t apologize, not even when your face heats up and you cover it with both hands. On the contrary, he probably makes a show of taking one out of the secret pile and sniffing it. He’s nasty, and he knows regardless of how you feel about it, you know he does it out of love and devotion. So he’s ok with it. And he’s not gonna stop.
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He’s ashamed. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. Felt weird and invasive, but he couldn’t help it. He just loves you so much, and he gets lonely when you’re apart, and it smells like you. What else was he supposed to do? He would never cheat, would never even dream of it. But the stress of the club gets to him, especially the more complicated things get, he just needs comfort and relief, and when he saw them laying there in the hamper, he snagged it without thinking. Then he couldn’t stop, even when he knew he should. Even goes as far as offering to take apart the washer saying that maybe the machine is eating them 👀 He apologizes, cheeks tinted red, eyes downcast and hopes you don’t hold it against him. He’ll ask before he takes them next time, scouts honor.
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Like Angel, he’s not embarrassed. He just shrugs, telling you that you’re his girl and your pussy is his, so why can’t he just take them? 🙄 He buys you new pairs every now and then anyway. So he wants to smell you randomly throughout the day, whats the harm in that? He just misses you. And likes to look at the pair and reminisce about times he’s taken them off of you. Is that a crime? He even reaches into his kutte and pulls out the pair that he’s kept on him today to show that it’s no big deal, and they’re the ones from yesterday, you recognize.
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He’s bashful, arguably, but not necessarily embarrassed. It’s more about getting caught than it is the actual act. Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s not sorry for taking them, he’s just sorry that it’s kinda awkward for you to find the stash. He laughs awkwardly, shrugging it off or trying to anyway. Explains that he just rarely gets time to himself, so he is uses them when he’s alone in Templo to get his mind right. That your scent calms him and helps his focus. He didn’t think you’d mind too much, he just also never expected you to find out.
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He's not sorry in the slightest and he makes sure you know it too. He bought every pair anyway, what's the issue? He could buy you 30 pairs by lunch 🙄 He wasn't up from about it, no, but he also didn't necessarily hide it. It just wasn't entirely in the open. You're respectful and don't go through his stuff in his office so how would you have known he had an entire drawer of his desk with them all collected in there? You'll get over it, a few new lingerie sets will make sure of that.
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The OG of panty stealing and sniffing himself. It’s canon after all. He just can’t help himself. You’re his moon and stars and he just can’t get enough of you. Even when you’re perched in his lap, cockwarming him, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, it’s not enough. He needs to be in your skin. But he can’t. So stealing your panties is the next best thing. It’s a compulsion he can’t fight. God knows he’s tried. And he tells you as much. Lists all of the things he did first to try and not have to submit to that desire. But in the end it didn’t matter. He just needs to have your most intimate article with him at all times. Keeps He doesn’t want you to think he’s a freak but he also just need you to know how much he absolutely loves, adores, and worships you. He’ll even hand over the pair in his pocket if you ask him to.
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He's nonchalant about it. It's just panties. You have a bunch more. Not like you were gonna miss them or something. He just loves you and likes to have something of yours that he can keep nearby when he misses you. One in his pocket, one in the sale bag of his bike tucked away hidden. His stash is dispersed, not because he was necessarily hiding them, but because there's one each place that will serve a purpose.
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Also not embarrassed. Hits you with that famous smirk, his shoulders shrugging as you stare at him waiting for an answer. "Just miss you sometimes, Darlin'. Just somethin' to get me by." Like it's perfectly normal. He left you your favorite pairs after all. He only takes the ones you're not the biggest fan of, so you wouldn't notice as quickly. It's not a big deal, he can give them back. Sometimes he just needs to sit in the chapel with them over his face while he strokes himself before Church so he can make sure he has a level head before this important vote.
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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   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady
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
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drabbles-mc · 4 months
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📸 credit: Michael Irby's Instagram
I just love and miss them sm 🥺
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months
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Sundress - Bishop Losa x Reader (NSFW)
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Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @@oureternalbond @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u
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You stand before Bishop as he sits on the edge of the couch, clad in a yellow sundress that hugs your curves and flutters around your thighs. His hands chase up the back of them, fingertips ghost along the line of your panties before he grasps that pretty little peach and pulls you closer. He bundles the material in his fist, gripping it tightly and hiking it up above your thighs so he can see those white cotton panties with that little damp spot forming at the front.
“Wet for me already.” He murmurs with approval, the heat of his breath ghosting across the moist fabric. “Am I the only one that does this to you? Gets you wet without laying a finger on you.”
“Yes Obispo.” You say, a sinful smile pulling at your features.
You know what it does to him, hearing you say his real name in that tone. It’s rare that it rolls off anyone’s lips but from yours it sounds like a god damn sonnet. He pushes his face up against your panties, breathing in the scent of your arousal.
“Say it again.” He mumbles against your clit, his lips brushing over that sensitive nub and sending a rush of pleasure erupting through your synapses. “Say my name again.”
“Obispo…” You whisper as your fingers comb through his curls, gripping them in between your fingers. “Fuck Obi, it’s just you. You’re the only one that can get me wet like this.”
Those beautiful brown eyes of his meet yours. There’s a tempest in him, he’s wild, a force of nature and he’s going down on you, his hands gripping your ass so he can keep your pussy firmly in place against his mouth.
His molten tongue traces over the shape of your clit, sucking just slightly and your knees almost buckle from the sensation. You feel can feel him smiling against the fabric when you exhale.
“That’s what I thought Mi Cielito,” he murmurs, his lips framing the words over that sensitive little bud. “There’s just me and only me right?”
“Fuck Obispo,” You drawl, your head tipping back at the sensation of his mouth on your clit. This man is going to wreck you, he’s going to take you apart until you’re in his sheets crying out his name, because that’s he wants. You. Always and only you.
“I need to hear you say it.”
It’s a concession that isn’t easy for him to make. There’s a hint of vulnerability amidst his boldness. This is Bishop giving you a part of himself, letting you catch a glimpse of the man underneath all the leather and hard edges. His wants, his needs, his fears, his doubts.
“There’s only ever you Obispo.” You tell him. “Only you in my bed and in my heart.”
It’s only when he hears those words that he takes you to pieces. Your panties are torn from your form and his mouth is on you. His tongue sweeps over your wet lips before he thrusts it deep inside. You cry out and it emboldens him, his rough palms tighten on your ass holding you in place against his greedy mouth. You writhe against him, taking everything, he can give and he watches you the whole time, those ferocious eyes of his drinking in your pleasure as he tears it from you. You come with his tongue deep inside you and his finger-marks on your tender flesh.
“You taste so fucking good Mi Cielito,” he tells you, using his palm to wipe the mess from his beard. “Like fucking honey in my mouth.”
There’s a moment of reprieve, a second to draw breath before he unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down his hips. His cock springs to attention, thick and leaking before he grasps the fabric of the sundress in both of his fists and pulls you into his lap.
You place your hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of his kutte as you give him that wicked little grin of yours. The sundress fans around your hips, draping across his muscular thighs as you take him slowly, adjusting to his girth. His head tips back, the exhale of breath emitting from his chest as you tease.
“Fuck.” He utters, his hips thrusting up closing the gap. His name rolls of your lips once more, that pretty flush creeping up your cheeks. “So, fucking tight, the perfect fucking fit.”
His hands trace over the contours of your shape as you move slowly, rocking back and forth on his dick. His fingers seek out the straps of your dress, drawing them down the slope of your shoulders so that your breasts spill out of the fabric. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing your chest flush against him. His rough palm encloses on your breast, guiding your nipple into his molten mouth. He sucks on that deviant little bud, tongue lapping over it.  
It drives you fucking crazy.
He loves you like this. Untamed, and uninhibited, the only thing you give a shit about is getting off on his cock as he fucks you all the way to nirvana. He bites down hard on your nipple and you’re done. Something inside your shatters and you clench around his dick so impossibly hard that it drags him over the edge with you. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling his release into you as you cradle his head to your chest.
“Christ.” He mutters, his lips brushing over the love bite he’s left upon your sensitive flesh. “I don’t know what the fuck it is about you and sundresses.”
Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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flightlessangelwings · 6 months
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Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism
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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!
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~
“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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darqchilddaydreamz · 4 months
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Aunty DD!! Not a request but if you feel like writing a whole fic on that Rio shit I will love you for the rest of my life! 😉 Can you do same scenario but for a Mayan man??
You have brought me joy tonight Anony. *kiss cheek* I'm supposed to be cleaning but I'd much rather do this. I'm already over here cheesin up a storm. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!!! Mayans fighting is going to be on my mind well into the night. Bless you for that. *kiss cheek two times*
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Manny - Okay, Manny was never really drinking right? And we never saw him tipsy so this man is sober and confident AF!! He's not arguing. He's not fighting. He's walking right up to you (and lord did you felt him coming cuz Manny is THAT kind of man) and taking possession. He's trailing those long fingers down your arm and hooking just one on your index finger. Leaning in your ear he'll pause just long enough to smack you with that deep ass gravelly voice, "C'mon, Bella."
What other guy? Who? Where?
Ma'am?? You are gonna be scurrying away with Manny like your panties are on fire...cuz they are. Cuz. It's. Manny.
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This slow blinking, beautiful ass man. I HATE HIM!! Give me babies.
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Gilly - Seeing another cut moving in on you gets one response from him and one response only. The poor guy is getting physically removed from the situation or you are. Either way you waggle your fingers in goodbye with a big ol grin cuz tbh it's the sexiest thing in the world.
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Yes. Yes we do.
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Angel - Can we talk about DrunkAngel cuz I kinda love him?? Drunk Angel is comin in hot and very, very loud. Zero chill and no volume control. But since the alcohol also has him where he can't complete a sentence for the life of him, his brothers are coming to see what's up and it's gonna be a hot mess for the poor guy who didn't take the hint to leave you alone. Punches will fly. He'll apologize tomorrow...if he remembers.
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EZ - he's gonna play the back as long as you look like you're handling it. But the second a guy puts so much as an unwanted fingertip on you there is no talking...EZ is droppin him. Then he'll gently take your hand with that damn smile and walk away with you. God i love that about him.
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Riz - There will be a little finesse from this one. He's the type to walk over and throw his arm around the guy, all dimples and hair falling in his face. " Who do we have here?" And when the idiot gives him your name and tries to shoo him away, Riz throws out, " You know that's my woman right?" And that same arm that was around the guy's shoulders would loop higher around his neck, Chokehold City. Riz is so damn slick hardly anyone even sees it happening. He'd whisper a threat or two in his ear and then let go -laughing and patting the coughing guy like they were old friends, before he moves you elsewhere. Messed up? Yes. But pretty boy knows how to take advantage in a fight before it even starts.
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Bishop- El Presidente is too old for bullshit but also cant pass up a chance to flex on these young ones coming up. He focuses on you instead of his adversary. Putting his hand high up on the inside of your thigh without so much as a hello he keeps his back to him (cuz who gives a fuck about him right? Bish is the Prez). His dark angry eyes lock on yours and you cant look away no matter what the other guy says or asks. Bishop plays with your hair, caresses your neck, talks in your ear, places his hand just below your breast giving your ribcage little squeezes, letting the other guy watch, confused then insulted, until he just gives up and leaves on his own. Bishop is delighted, chest puffed up like the biggest cock on the walk. However after that, its your butt in his lap for the rest of the night cuz it's only funny the first time, Querida.
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Coco- Let's be honest here. Coco. Will. Choose. Violence. He's not asking questions and nobody will see it coming. He's climbing on the guy's head with his wiry self and breaking him down good with punches and elbows. Nobody but Gilly will intervene. Its very fast and every Mayan in the place will act like nothing happened when it's over...cuz its Coco's crazy ass.
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Note: you WILL be getting tossed up on some high quality, adrenaline fueled D almost immediately...cuz Coco's about that, too.
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Guero - Chiiiie! That boy is fighting. It'll be alot of "WTF is this?" "W!T!F!!!" Luckily some of his brothers will hold him back cuz they KNOW he's a hothead. Outside he'll just need some kisses from you to help him calm down but he will be eyeballing the hell out of that guy for the rest of the night.
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Bottles - Is not going to raise a stink unless the guy touches you or wont let you leave. If that happens, our SweetBottles is gone and BulliedBottles will take over. All that mess comes rushing back. He can't help it and frankly nobody blames him. The only one that can talk him down quickly is Guero, however his best bud is also known to hype him up, too. So for the sake of Mister Handsy, we hope a calmer head or two is around.
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ravennaortiz · 2 months
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Okay next request I've got is a list for Bishop. Time to show the Pres some love. Alright I've got the following prompts for Bishop:
22. Make me.
27. What if someone sees?
25. Don't act shy now.
29. Give me attention.
30. I need you.
32. Your mine.
38. Beg.
Yas! The Pres does need some love! Alright lets work some magic for Bishop shall we? As always 18+.
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"Bish" you whispered as you nudged the sleeping mans leg with your own. "Hmm" he grunted as he stirred slightly. "Get up so we can go home and sleep babe" you replied as you shook your head at him. "Make me" he growled as he playfully grabbed at your arm pulling you down on top of him. "I don't think I can carry you out of here" you laughed as he kissed your forehead as his hands wound down your sides making you shiver at the feel.
"So pretty" murmured Bishop as you felt his hands start to lift the hem of your dress and knead at the flesh of your ass. "Were in the clubhouse" you murmured as you smacked his hands away making him grin. "And? I'm the Presidente. I can do what i want" he replied as he moved his hands back under your dress as he lifted his hips to grind against you. You closed your eyes as you bit back a moan at the feel of his tented jeans pressing into you. Bishop sat up some mouthing one of your hardened nipples through your dress sending a jolt through your body.
"What if someone walks in and sees" you questioned as one of his hands trailed between the two of your caressing your wet heat gently. "Don't act all shy with me now" mumbled Bishop as he laid you back on the couch keeping himself between your thighs as he kissed your neck. "Weren't you the one sending me pictures. Saying you wanted my attention while I was in Templo. Doing naughty things?" he growled as he hooked his fingers around the thin material of your panties and tugged hard ripping them from your body.
"Bishop" you moaned into his chest as he pushed two fingers into your core curling them up into that sweet spot. Bishop grinned as he kept up his pace as he felt your clench around his fingers. "You like that?" he whispered into your ear as he sped up some making you whimper as you squirmed under him.
"I'm going" you started as you felt that familiar coil in your lower abdomen. "Not yet" stated Bishop as he yanked his fingers out of you before you tipped over the edge. "I need you" you whined as you grabbed for his hand to move it back. Bishop chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand and undid his belt and jeans with the other. "I know you do Querida" he murmured as he caressed your cheek before standing up and stepping out of his jeans and boxers.
As he got back on top of you he grabbed the front of your dress and yanked it down exposing your breast to the cool air. "You mine. All mine no one elses" he murmured as he trailed the head of his cock through your slick folds. "All yours" you whispered as you raised your hips forcing him in more. "Naughty girl" murmured Bishop as he pulled all of the way out and moved to grab your throat to pin you down. "Remember. I'm in charge. You want it? You beg." stated Bishop as he squeezed your throat gently making you moan.
"Please. Bishop please fuck me" you whined as you let his lust filled gaze. Bishop wasted no time in burying himself deeply into you. Slamming his hips into your in rapid strokes as he thumbed that sensitive bundle of nerves taking you over the edge in mere minutes. You were still riding the last remnants of your own orgasm when he let out a final growl and poured his own release out before collapsing onto you on the couch.
"Home for round two old man?" you inquired making him laugh.
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fanficimagery · 2 years
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Angel’s Reina
The Sons of Anarchy have always wondered just what type of man SAMCRO's Princess was into, but she never dated. Or if she did, she was super secretive about it and managed to date undetected. Now, however, the Sons have some visitors and it seems they're finally going to find the answer to their long awaited question.
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Words: 6.3K Author's Note: Sons!AU because Clay and Gemma make everything worse and I like to keep shit lighthearted and fun. Sorry.
For your entire life, being hailed as SAMCRO's princess felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders. Add in a mother like Gemma Teller and a stepfather like Clay Morrow, and it made life all the more difficult. Especially when puberty hit and the Sons of Anarchy suddenly became overprotective big brothers and uncles.
But while they were overprotective, they were also curious as to why they'd never gotten the chance to dole out some pain to a hormonal teenage boy who thought he could put his hands all over you. Jax and Opie were the ones who were most interested in your hopefully nonexistent dating life, but it was your mother who was attempting to plan a wedding to any Son of your choosing so long as it kept you in Charming.
And staying in Charming wasn't really in your plans until Clay wound up dead and your mother not too far behind him thanks to her binge drinking ways.
It took a while for things to calm down within the Sons after losing their President and Queen, but Jax and Tara filled their roles perfectly. You reluctantly took over for the garage, but not before Jax completely gutted it and then upgraded it. You didn't mind the paperwork and filing system, but technology made things faster and easier and you weren't about to fall behind like you mother constantly was.
Then when things actually were calm and Jax started to make peace with the other MC's, only then did everyone start to loosen up and be at ease without constantly looking over their shoulders.
When the clubhouse parties started back up, it was hectic. The Sons and the hangarounds were ecstatic that the sweetbutts made a reappearance, but they weren't too ecstatic at Tara's rules for them. You sat and watched, and then helped your sister-in-law rid the clubhouse of the women who wouldn't stop pushing up on the married men. And when the men made a pass at you, you made sure to pull rank- as much as you hated it- and send the men on their way less they get a beat down from either yourself or your brother.
After numerous parties where you sent men on their way, the Sons started to become curious as to why you wouldn't hook up with anyone. They weren't as overprotective as they once were and were truly curious as to the type of man you'd invite to your bed. But when you refused to talk about the type of man you were attracted to, they took it upon themselves to figure it out by having shirtless men walk around the clubhouse.
They knew you didn't like them too old, so half the Sons were out. You'd seen Opie naked more times than you'd like to admit and never were awkward around him, so he was out too. You admitted to thinking Half-Sack was cute, but he was too nervous around you given your last name and Juice was- well he was too much of a horn dog. You didn't think he had it in him to be faithful, so you were never tempted by him.
The closest they got to you cracking was when Happy stripped out of his shirt in the middle of the club so he could be tattooed. The way he leaned against the bar, jeans riding low and the V of his hips on display, made you pause, but fortunately only Tara was the one who noticed. Her eyes widened, but you quickly shook your head and busied yourself to make you forget about the attractive sight just on the other side of the room. She laughed, but it was easy to squash the crush on the stoic man when you remembered the whole reusing condoms phase he went through and everyone who had to get tested for a STD.
Fortunately for you, Tara keeps your secret, but it was only a matter of time before the others found out.
Especially since the day before Halloween the Mayans decide to roll in for a weekend visit.
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Sitting in your air conditioned office, your knee bounces anxiously as you stare at the clock in the corner of your computer screen. It's Friday, which means Halloween is tomorrow, and you're more than ready to start preparing for your favorite holiday. The second the clock strikes five, you're up and out of your seat, and lunging for the door.
"Alright, motherfuckers, clock out!" You yell after exiting your office. "It's Friday, tomorrow's Halloween, and if you're not dressing up then you know the drill! I want the candy tubs filled so all the crotch goblins of Charming leave here with a smile!"
Laughter meets your ears, everyone knowing how serious you took Halloween, and the men on shift start making their way towards you to clock out for the day. You smile at each of them, pulling the beanie from your head and tossing it onto your desk.
"YN!" Jax shouts. "Get over here."
Seeing your brother standing out in the parking lot, you immediately strip out of your plaid long sleeve. You wrap the sleeves around your waist, leaving you in a tank top and jeans, and continue to make your way outside. You squint your eyes as soon as the sun hits you, but you can still see a few new faces standing around your brother.
With a hand shielding your eyes, you nod at him. "What's up?" You quickly glance at the men around him, nodding in greeting, and you grin when you see a familiar face. "Obispo!"
The Mexican man has a lot more gray in his beard than you remember, but he's still as handsome as ever. You turn towards him, arms wide, and embrace him with a smile. "Princesa, how many times do I need to tell you to call me Bishop?"
"You can tell me for the rest of our lives, but it doesn't mean I'm going to listen." You squeeze him a little before stepping back. "What brings you guys to our backyard? Club shit or pleasure?"
"A little bit of both." You glance at each man then, shaking your head in amusement when you see their amused grins. "Mija, this is Creeper, Angel, and Ezekiel (call me EZ)." Your eyes trail over each man and pray the blazing sun is good enough reason to blame the impending redness of your cheeks on. Each man is handsome in their own right, but there's one among the group that is making your insides squirm.
You've heard the names of the Mayans before, but never really had any pictures to put a face to the name. Now, however, as Angel Reyes stands before you, you can't help but appreciate how he looks in a long sleeve shirt with its sleeves rolled up and showing off tattooed forearms.
When you see Angel's arms flex, your gaze darts up to his eyes crinkled in mirth and you know he caught you ogling. Narrowing your eyes slightly in return, you're about to introduce yourself when an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders and squeezing you to the culprit's side. You grimace and look up to find your brother smirking. "Gentlemen, this is YN. Princess of SAMCRO." You roll your eyes at the title. "If you need anything and Tara isn't around, you go to her."
"Yeah, yeah. Prospect's still on bitch duty. I only handle the nuisances."
"Nuisances?" Angel smirks.
"Mhm. Some sweetbutts are rather persistent when it comes to a man in a kutte. If you got an old lady back home and don't want anyone pushing up on you, let me know right now. And for the love of god, stay away from Ima."
Jax chuckles as you sneer at the blonde's name. "What'd Ima do now?" Bishop wonders.
"Still has her sights on Ope, can't handle taking orders from Tara or I, and thinks she should get some special privileges around here because she's been around for years." You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Obispo, the next time she looks at me wrong I'm gonna take a bat to that prissy little car of hers."
"I thought your fighting days were over, mija?"
Jax barks out a laugh and you're quick to elbow him as the Mayans glance between the two of you in amusement. "She's a Teller, man. If she can't walk around with a kutte, she's gonna walk around with bloody fists."
"Shut up." You swat Jax's abdomen before stepping away from him. "I'm not a violent person."
"Not until Ima's involved."
"Whatever." You give your attention to the Mayans. "If you're sticking around through tomorrow, you guys gotta follow tradition."
"And what's that, querida?"
You gulp under Angel's stare and quickly avert your gaze. "If you refuse to dress up, you gotta hand over cash for the candy funds. Every year we set out a few tables of candy and the kids of Charming stop by. There's usually four or five stations- candy, chips, drinks and pencils with pencil toppers to encourage them to stay in school. Bobby's in charge of the grill and Juice is on music. It's my favorite night of the year and no one is going to mess it up for me."
"You guys don't have to chip in," Jax says and you gasp, scandalized he would say such a thing.
Bishop, however, chuckles and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. You give a short happy squeal when Bishop pulls out a fifty and gestures for his boys to do the same. Jax rolls his eyes as you skip forward and pluck the cash from Bishop's hand, and then kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Obispo."
"De nada."
Creeper and EZ are holding out twenties when you glance at them, and you pluck them with a smug smile. When you move on to Angel, however, he pulls his cash back when you reach for it. "Don't I get a kiss too, querida?"
You narrow your eyes at the smug Mexican, heart pounding. When he continues to smirk, you roll your eyes and push up on the tips of your toes to kiss his cheek while plucking the cash from his hands. "There. Happy?"
"Over the moon."
You snort and turn around, folding the cash in your hands to pocket when your brother's next words make you tense. "YN, are you- are you blushing?"
"What? No!" You blurt a little too fast, eyes wide when you look up.
Jax's own eyes are wide, mouth agape in his shock. Slowly but surely, he starts to smile. "Did- did one of the Mayans just break our case wide open?"
"No!"
"Uh, what case, 'mano?"
"Nothing!" You whirl around, pointing a finger at Angel who's quick to step back with his hands up. "Don't worry about it."
"Holy shit." Your brother laughs. "He did!"
"It's fucking hot out here, Jackson! I'm red because of the heat!"
"Or you're red because you got a thing for them Spanish boys," he says a little too smugly. Your mouth drops open and he laughs even harder. "Oh fuck. Wait until I tell the boys."
Unable to think of anything that will deter your brother, you hit him with your shoulder as you pass. "You're a dick, Jax."
"Love you too, sis."
As the group of men watch YN Teller stalk off, Bishop chuckles. "Care to fill us in, el presidente?"
Jax glances back at the Mayans, grinning. "For a couple years now we've been trying to figure out just what type of man my sister is attracted to. She's never brought anyone around and while we know of a few people she thinks are attractive, none of them have made her blush like your boy Angel has."
Angel suddenly preens at the news, clutching his kutte and straightening it out, and EZ rolls his eyes before smacking the back of his brother's head. "Don't even think about it, hermano."
"Why not? Big bro doesn't seem to have a problem with it."
EZ glances at Jax and the blonde chuckles. "If he thinks he can handle her, I say go for it. My sis is a pain in the ass. It'll be hilarious to see her squirming for once."
Bishop shakes his head at his secretary. "If you go after la princesa, don't mess around with the sweetbutts. We don't need any unnecessary drama."
"Whatever you say, Bish. Whatever you say."
Jax laughs as he gestures for the Mayans to follow him inside. "Come on. Let's hammer out the details for the gun trade because come tomorrow this place is going to be Halloween central and my sister will cut a bitch if anyone ruins her night."
. .
. .
As the night progresses, the clubhouse fills with its usual hangarounds and sweetbutts. You've opted to tend to the bar next to Half-Sack, keeping an eye on the happenings all around to make sure you don't have to interfere. Occasionally your gaze slides over Angel, eyes narrowing at all the sweetbutts gathered around the group. You keep telling yourself you're watching them more than usual because Jax and Opie are there, but you can't fool yourself for long. You're keeping an eye on which sweetbutt is gonna get the most disgusting chores around the club for getting too close to Angel.
"Wow. Jax wasn't kidding." Tara slides onto a stool across from you, eyes sparkling in amusement. "The Mayan, YN? Really?"
Your gaze snaps to your sister-in-law and you lower yourself behind the bar, arms crossed atop the counter as your chin rests on your arm. "I can't help it. He's so pretty."
"Wow. I for sure thought you were going to be attracted to the bald one after I saw you ogling Happy that one time."
You chuckle. "They're all hot, Tara, but Obispo is too old, Creeper looks like a strong silent type and EZ seems just a tad too goofy. His smile reminds me too much of Juice."
"What do you like about Angel then? That is his name, right?"
"Yes, and.." you sigh longingly. "I don't know. "He's just- he's pretty," you whine. Tara's head tips back as she laughs. "And then he started with the pet names in Spanish and the lady bits started tingling. It was lust at first sight."
"Do we have to worry about you starting a fight over the Mayan?" Your sister-in-law continues to giggle.
You sigh and then straighten up, grabbing up a dish towel and wiping down the bar top. "Nah. I mean I might glare and be a little petty, but I won't start an actual fist fight. Just a couple more hours and then I get to go home, and all will be well come tomorrow."
"Or he and every sweetbutt dressed in a slutty costume will test your resolve tomorrow night, and I'll end up having to babysit your ass."
"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying this."
"Oh I am," she muses.
Tara keeps you company for the rest of the night, pulling you from behind the bar and taking great pleasure in seeing you squirming over some guy. You end up sitting with the group of guys, sandwiched between Opie and Happy, and doing your best to not look in Angel's direction. Then when the clubhouse starts to clear out, Jax has Juice bring out a dry erase board.
"What's going on?" Bishop asks as he takes in the names written on the board.
"They're making a bet on what my costume will be," you say.
"Please let it be something slutty," Tig begs. "Like last year! That was a great costume," he says while crossing himself and then holding his hands together as if in prayer. You laugh.
"What were you last year?" Angel asks, eyebrow arched.
You slowly grin at him. "Slutty nun."
"The stockings. Oh god, the stockings," Tig groans as the men all chuckle.
"Dios mío." Bishop snorts, shaking his head.
Every bet is worth ten bucks and you're not surprised over half of them guess you'll be something sexy and/or slutty- Velma from Scooby Doo, Harley Quinn, and a ringmaster being some of your favorite guesses. Even the Mayans get in on the fun, Angel and Creeper immediately going the slutty route as well with hopes of you dressing as a sexy cheerleader or a sexy witch. Surprisingly it's EZ and Bishop who take their time thinking about it, but while their guesses are of the non-sexy variety, they still don't guess it.
"You guys are insane." You chuckle as they argue over who's got it right, some even changing their guesses.
"But did we get it right, querida?" Angel wonders.
You shrug and stand, getting ready to call it a night so you're well rested for dealing with all the candy hungry little gremlins. "You'll just have to wait and see."
"And don't go changing your outfit at the last second, lass," Chibs calls out.
"I'm not." Your eyes roll. "But just a heads up, you boys are on your own tomorrow. I'll be here in the morning to make sure we have everything that you'll be setting up and then I'll be going back home to dress."
"It involves makeup, doesn't it?" Jax guesses. You slowly grin at him and the men all curse, hurriedly changing their vote yet again.
"Happy guessing, boys! I'll see most of you tomorrow evening."
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You get several decent hours of sleep before you make your way back to Teller-Morrow Automotive and make sure the early rising sweetbutts and Half-Sack know how to decorate for the evening's festivities. Then after making sure everything is in order so the night will run smoothly, you swing by the local diner to pick up some breakfast before heading home.
You don't have to start getting ready until three or so, so you set an alarm and go back to sleep.
And then when your alarm goes off, you take your time in the shower to exfoliate and prepare yourself for the transformation you're about to go through.
The first thing you do after drying off is blow dry your hair. You don't want to curl it too soon, so you clip it at the back of your head to deal with later. Then shooting off a quick text to your neighbor to get her ass to your place, you get started on your makeup.
From your hairline down to the top of your chest, you paint yourself white. Your neighbor gets in just in time to paint the back of your neck and your back, and helps you decide where the best places to shade in black are. Your temples, eyes, mouth, neck and collar bones get shaded in black, and then your neighbor helps you glue on some golden decals around your face, brow, neck and collar bones. You use the gold paint to paint your nose and mouth, and then you keep a small fan on your face while your neighbor curls your hair for you before pinning it to one side of your head so your curls fall over your left shoulder.
As you're looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to put in some whiteout contact lenses to give you an even creepier vibe. Your neighbor helps you into your strapless white lace dress with a short train that looks as if you walked through ash, and then you dip your fingers into the golden paint one by one.
"Holy shit, babe. You look hot," your neighbor gushes. You wrinkle your nose at her, counting down the minutes until your fingers dry so you can be on your way. "Are you sure you're not trying to impress someone?"
"I'm not." You laugh. "I've had this costume planned for weeks. It's not my fault the hot guys came after."
"Hot guys? What hot guys?"
"Mayans from down south. There's this one in particular who keeps calling me pet names in Spanish. It's taking everything in me to not climb him like a tree."
Your neighbor laughs. "Well if you do, take a picture of him so when you give me all the filthy details, I'll have a face to put to the name."
"Will do."
When you're all set to go, you grab your golden starburst crown and carry it with you. You didn't want to put it on and hit the roof of your car, so you figure you'll just put it on when you get to your destination. Then after kicking your neighbor out and locking up, you find yourself in your car and heading back towards your place of employment.
The orange and black streamers along the fence line of TM Automotive makes you smile, as well as the purple twinkling lights you can barely see since the sun was still in the sky. Inside the parking lot, there are four long tables set up- each table draped in a black, orange, green or purple tablecloths. One table contains nothing but buckets of candy, another is lined with small bags of chips, another has juice boxes, and the last has fun pencils, pencil toppers, and tiny toy desk companions for the kids to play with. There are even Halloween inflatables- a Frankenstein, a patch of cruelly smiling pumpkins, and a black cat- and you can't help the giggle that escapes you.
Parking off to the side of the building and away from prying eyes, you hurriedly get out and use the reflection of your window to put your crown on. Once it's situated, you start your trek around the side of the building and towards the front where everyone is lingering about.
Jax spots you first and his brow furrows before you smile, wiggling gold-tipped fingers at him. "Cat got your tongue, Jackson?"
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"Holy shit! YN?"
Angel, who'd been laying on his bike, smirks before pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. "Damn, mami, you do that yourself?"
"Yep." You strike a pose for them before giggling. "So, I think my costume falls under the category of skeleton. Who had that?"
Bishop raises his hand and the gathered men all groan as a roll of bills are passed over to him. He's all swagger as he saunters up towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Te ves hermosa (you look beautiful)."
"Thank you, Obispo."
Everyone approaches you, getting a close up of your makeup and wondering if you truly did do it yourself. And after you've answered their questions, you're surprised when Creeper asks if he can take a picture with you.
"Yeah. Of course."
You oblige him, standing just to the side of him as he takes a seat on a chair. With one hand on his shoulder, you glance off to the side as he stares the camera head on. Then for the second picture, you're staring straight at the camera so they can capture how wicked your eyes look.
"What about me, querida? Do I get a picture too?" Angel asks.
"Oh! I have the perfect idea," Juice says. Then looking at Angel, he says, "Sit up."
You can only shake your head in amusement, stepping closer to Juice as Angel hands his phone to the Puerto Rican. Juice proceeds to have Angel sit sideways on his bike, feet planted on the ground so his knees are parted. Then you're instructed to stand between Angel's knees as one of his hands grips onto his handlebar and the other gently holds onto the back of your thigh. Your breath lightly hitches, but it's still obvious to Angel as he smirks up at you.
"Shut it," you mumble.
Juice then instructs you to lightly cradle the side of Angel's face in your hand, your gold-tipped fingers sticking out against his dark facial hair. You hear many catcalls and swallow down a laugh, finally snorting when you hear Opie grumble, "Goddammit. She wore makeup on purpose so we couldn't see her blush."
Juice snaps a couple pictures of you and Angel staring into each other's eyes, and then he moves to stand behind Angel's back. Now both of Angel's hands are on the back of your thighs and you're looking up over his head, staring directly at Juice as EZ fixes his brother's kutte upon Juice's suggestion. He has you looking at the camera head on then, and he snaps a few more pictures.
"Thank you, mi reina," Angel murmurs when you're finally allowed to step back.
You quietly groan and tug on the hair at his chin. "Shut it. I actually know what that one means."
He chuckles darkly and lets you walk away to collect yourself. Then as you make sure the tables are all set and those who are going to help you pass out the goodies are ready, Angel and Juice huddle together so Juice can edit the pictures on Angel's phone with settings that the Mexican didn't even know his phone had.
The trick-or-treating starts before the sun even sets.
Parents used to be hesitant to let their children into the decorated parking lot for Halloween, but you did the most to change everyone's opinion about the MC. Not everyone approved of the tactics the Sons used to keep their streets clean and children safe, but the locals were less hostile towards the Sons now and even uttered a greeting to them when seen out in public.
The Mayans sit off to the side with the Sons who haven't been tasked by YN to hand out goodies, sipping on their beers and eating food that someone had grilled.
"Man, the people of Santo Padre are nothing like this," EZ says, gesturing to the people who are laughing and taking pictures. "They either hate us or are terrified of us. None of them would greet us with smiles like this."
"It wasn't always like this," Jax says. "They used to tolerate us- greeting us to be polite but then scurrying away."
"What changed?" Bishop wonders.
"YN." Opie grins as he watches the woman he sees as a sister. "As soon as Clay and Gemma kicked the bucket, YN fought tooth and nail to turn shit around for us."
The Mayans all glance at Jax at the casual way Opie mentioned his mother and Clay's passing, and the blonde shrugs with a chuckle. "It's no secret YN was dying to get out of Charming because of Gemma and the trouble Clay landed us in, but with them out of the picture she decided to settle down and help clear the club's name."
Angel glances at YN, watching as the kids happily greet her while some even high five her in greeting. He only has eyes for the skeletal queen that Tig's chortle startles him out of his staring. "Oh shit, boys. Ima incoming."
Everyone glances in the direction Tig is looking, but only Creeper sits a little straighter at the blonde bombshell sauntering her way towards them in a sexy nurse outfit.
"She might be hot, gentlemen, but she's not worth the trouble," Jax says. He leans back in his seat, arching an eyebrow as the woman in question nears. "What are 'ya doing here, Ima?"
"It's a party, Mr. President," she muses. "Isn't it an open invitation?"
"It is, but you also know it's YN's favorite holiday and you take sick pleasure in pissing my sister off."
The tightening of her smile is obvious, but no one says anything. "I promise to be on my best behavior," she says. "And besides, we have guests." Her eyes practically sparkle as she looks at each and every Mexican. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't show them a good time?"
Opie snorts, not bothering to cover it up or explain himself as Ima glares at him.
"We're good, mujer," Bishop says.
"Speak for yourself," Creeper mutters.
Ima hears him and practically perks up, sauntering towards him and placing herself in his lap. Everyone chuckles, shaking their head, but they figure this is a mistake Creeper needs to make and learn from for himself.
"Well while you're diddling the Sons' sloppy seconds, I'm gonna go check on mi reina," Angel muses as he stands.
Jax chuckles. "I got twenty bucks that says you can't drag my sister away from candy duty."
"You're on, vato."
"YN?" Ima petulantly pouts. "If you're looking for a good time, I'm loads better."
Creeper quietly groans as EZ starts to laugh. "So close." He pushes Ima off his lap and the blonde scoffs before stomping off when she realizes the group of men are not going to cater to her hurt feelings. "Are all the females like her?"
"Nah. Most of them are pretty decent," Jax says. "They're just being on their best behavior right now because kids are coming and going, and they know my sister will kick their ass if they step one toe out of line."
Everyone watches as Angel takes his leave, startling YN as he comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist while laying his chin on her shoulder.
"Are you really okay with that?" Bishop asks, gesturing to his secretary and Jax's younger sister. "If that's gonna be an issue, I'll warn him off."
"It's fine." Jax waves him off. "Let them have their fun. But if he tries to take her back to Santo Padre, then we're gonna have issues."
Opie laughs as EZ's smile falters. "YN is the only one who properly knows how to run the garage. If she splits, we're fucked."
Creeper chuckles as he keeps an eye out for a female to keep him company later on. "Don't say that, man. Bishop will encourage Angel to bring the girl home if it means she can get the office at the scrap yard in order."
Bishop salutes him with his beer bottle. "Chucky's a big help, but Lord knows we need someone else in there."
As the Mayans and Sons laugh over shared stories of Chucky and how he's faring down in Santo Padre now, Ima glares at the interactions from the opened doorway to the clubhouse. The hottest Mayan of the group chats up YN Teller and the other patched member she had sat on the lap of catches the attention of another passing sweetbutt. So far her night was not going well and she was not happy about it at all.
. .
. .
Once the trick-or-treating is over for the night, you head into the bathroom to remove the golden decals from your face, leaving them only on your neck and collar bones, and then retouch your Halloween makeup. You even lose the crown before grabbing a beer and then head over to the group of men you felt at ease with.
As you're walking towards an empty seat, Angel surprises you by grabbing you by the wrist to tug you down onto his lap. Your eyes widen, though it's tough to tell with the way you're all painted up, but Opie still snorts his amusement. "Goddammit. The makeup is still covering the blush."
Hearing his words, you glance over at your best friend and flip him off as you let yourself relax in Angel's embrace. By the way he's holding your waist, he has no intentions of letting you up. So turning on his lap and snuggling down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, you ask, "Am I here because you want me here or because the sweetbutts are circling?"
"Because I want you here." You take a sip of your beer, grinning. "And because your arch nemesis keeps making the rounds, waiting for a green light from one of us."
"Of course she is." Your eyes roll as you look for the blonde in question. "She's angling for the title of old lady, no matter the charter. Whatever puts her in a higher rank than me, she'll take it and then use her position to order me around."
"What's her deal?"
"She used to fuck my brother in hopes of him giving her his crow, but then Tara came into the picture and stole his attention. When she wouldn't let up, I kicked her ass." You lift your head to take another sip of your beer, smirking when Angel groans at the thought of you being violent. "Then she honed in on Opie after his wife died and I shut that shit down. He got together with Lyla soon after and Ima tried coming in between them, so I kicked her ass again."
"You like throwin' hands, don't you?"
"If I need to, then yeah. I'm very protective of those I consider mine," you tell him. "So, if you need someone's ass beat down in Santo Padre, you know where to find me."
Angel chuckles as the hand resting on your thigh squeezes. "I'm yours, huh?"
"Mhm," you hum.
Your lips twitch as you hold his stare, your gaze briefly glancing at his lips as you subconsciously lean towards him. All the noise surrounding you seems to fall away, but before anything interesting can happen, a hand is landing on your shoulder.
"Goddammit, Tig! I was just about to win the bet," Juice complains.
Jax, Opie, Happy, Chibs, Bishop, and EZ explode with laughter, and you narrow your eyes at all of them. "What bet?"
"How long it'd take for you and Angel to hook-up," your brother muses.
Angel chuckles beneath you and you roll your eyes, standing up. As you finish off your beer, Tig says, "Hey sweet face, I heard Ima spreading some rumors about you to anyone who'll listen."
From the corner of your eye, you see the blonde in question falter in her steps, but you pay her no mind. "I don't give a shit who talks behind my back. Bitch knew better than to let me hear." Tig laughs, his gaze darting between you and Ima, but she doesn't say anything in response. Sighing, you then glance around at all the men who were hoping for some drama. "Anyone need a beer?"
As the night progresses, Angel's lap becomes your personal seat. You've tried four different times to sit on a couch or chair, especially when a sweetbutt sidled up to him when you made a trip to the bar or bathroom, but he always caught you and dragged you back towards him as you tried to pass. No one said a word and the sweetbutts backed off when they realized you were interested in him, but you had to shake your head at your brother when you could see the amusement and approval in his eyes.
You ended up having only two beers before you switched to water since you still had to drive home, and Angel stopped after three. Everyone's talking and laughing, and it makes your heart happy to see both MC's getting along.
By the third time you've yawned, Angel taps your thigh and urges you to stand up. "Come on, hermosa. Let's go."
"Go? Go where?"
"You need sleep."
Angel grabs your hand just as you catch Jax's gaze and at his arched eyebrow, you shake your head. You will not be spending the night in the dorms.
But still you walk hand-in-hand with Angel, letting him lead the way down a familiar hallway and towards a dorm that Jax most likely assigned him. Just as he moves to grab the key from his pocket, you place a hand on his arm to stop him. "As much as I wanna spend the night with you, I need to go home." Angel glances at you in surprise, mouth opening to reply, but you push on. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping with all this makeup on," you say while gesturing to your face and upper body. "And I need my contact case for the lenses. I actually really like these."
Angel sighs, realizing you have a point. He gives up on the hunt for his room key, turning so his back is to the wall and he's holding onto both of your hands loosely in front of him. "Too bad, querida. We roll out as soon as we wake up tomorrow."
A moment of silence lingers between the two of you before your lips twitch. "Well.. you could always come back to mine." You step closer, dropping one of his hands so your hand can cradle the side of his neck before sliding back and scraping the back of his neck with your nails. His eyelids flutter as he quietly groans and you smirk. "Bed's big enough for more than one person."
"Is that right?" Angel gulps.
"Yep." You pull on his neck so he lowers his face towards you, but stop him when he's close enough for your lips to brush his. "Think of all the uninterrupted fun we could have." He tries to capture your lips, but you pull back just out of reach. "I would kiss 'ya, but I'm not about to smear my makeup all around your mouth and let those idiots out front know exactly what's going on."
His resolve seems to harden right before your eyes. "House. Now."
As soon as Angel straightens up, his grip tightens on your one hand and he practically drags you out of the hallway. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, your laughter growing louder at the whoops and hollers you hear from both the Sons and Mayans as they watch him drag you away. Suddenly, you're very grateful for your skeletal makeup because you can feel your face and ears burning.
As you near the exit to the clubhouse, you can't help but smirk as you flip off Ima who's watching you and Angel with a frown.
Happy Halloween indeed.
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Hi and for the love of God hello 👋🏼 after going back and forth i’ve decided to try my hand at writing for the mayans boys and the sons we all know and love! Please feel free to hit up my ask box <3
Requests: Open
who i write for:
- Mayans MC
• Angel Reyes
• Ez Reyes
• Coco Cruz
• Nestor Oceteva
• Neron “Creeper” Vargas
• Bishop Losa
• Hank Loza
• Gilly Lopez
• Michael “Riz” Ariza
- Sons Of Anarchy
• Jax Teller
• Juice Ortiz
• Opie Winston
• Happy Lowman
• Herman Kozik
• Filip “Chibs” Telford
• Alexander “Tig” Trager
What i take requests for:
• Headcanons
• Preferences
• Would includes
• Most likely to’s
What i don’t take requests for:
• Smut
• Self harm of any kind - talking about the reader having a mental illness is fine but i’m not comfortable writing about them harming themselves
• Reader being related to any of the characters
• Toxic relationships - We’re all about healthy, loving relationships in this house!
any gifs used are not mine!
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obsessedasusual · 4 months
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Lonely No More - Eight
Bishop Losa x OC Series
Summary: There was never a dull moment, being the only Reyes sister. But between overbearing brothers, being the family peacekeeper, and countless disaster dates, Amalia finds herself wishing she had someone to unwind with after a hectic day. Funnily enough, Bishop Losa wishes for the same thing.
Warnings: swearing, feels, everything MC related really
Note: -2k hellloooooo!!!! When I tell you I have had the first half of this written since my last bloody upload I’m not kidding🫣🫣 I won’t try to defend myself, I’ll just leave this for you to chew on byeeeeee
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It had been four days since the incident, as Amalia was now calling it.
Four days and she hadn’t heard from Bishop. She hadn’t been running past his house as usual, she had however heard a Harley ride past each morning and night. It seemed Bishop wasn’t swaying from his usual route to the club, just deciding to not stop in.
No texting, no calling, no notes.
Radio silence.
She had also been avoiding her brothers, which wasn’t hard. Angel had tried to call her once which she had ignored, instead flicking a text his way saying, sorry busy with work, will call you back, she hadn’t, and he hadn’t tried again.
She even turned the other way when she almost ran into Gilly at the grocery store the day prior. Instead pushing her cart down the aisle of baby bottles and nappies. She was sure she’d successfully dodged him and he hadn’t seen her. He had, but figured she wasn’t in the mood to talk and let her be.
Her mind was stuck on that night, replaying it over and over. It was obviously a mistake. Had to have been. There was no way he had meant to kiss her.
Her friend Zoe had been let in on the secret when she came knocking, worried about her best friend’s sudden dazed mood. Well… Zoe had been let in on how she had made out with a guy and it was great, amazing, fantastic but it was bad, terrible, never should have happened. The fact that the ‘guy’ was a slightly older President of a fucking outlaw club was conveniently left out.
“You can’t be this torn up over a kiss and not give me any details!” Zoe had pouted over a cup of coffee.
Amalia paced the length of her dining table, hands on her forehead in frustration, “it’s not the kiss that’s the issue! Well, okay it’s kind of the kiss but it’s more to do with who the kiss was with!”
“Which was who?”
“I… I can’t say,” Amalia sighed, “it was just with someone it really shouldn’t have been with and now he won’t talk to me and I don’t know what this means or what happens from here. Do I just ignore it too? What if I see him around? I mean, I’m definitely gonna see him around this town is only so big-“
“So he’s a local?”
“And if my brothers ever found out Jesus Christ they would have my head on a platter. They’d kill me! They would actually kill me. They’d never speak to me again-“
“I’m sure they’d be okay with it-“
“Ha! Okay with it? You don’t know my brothers, they’d hit the roof. Angel especially, oh shit Angel-“
“Okay! A! You need to stop and take a breather, seriously. Just talk to me. We can talk it out and work out what to do.” Zoe stood from her seat, gently touching Amalia’s arm and steering her toward a chair.
“Take a breath. Okay, why is this freaking you out so much?”
Amalia looked from her friend to the ground, “I shouldn’t be involved with him.”
“Could you tell me why? If you like him and he likes you-“
“He doesn’t like me, Zo,” she interrupted, mumbling slightly, “It was just a caught in the moment sort of thing. And, even if he did. We couldn’t be involved.”
Zoe sighed, “You’ve said that, but why?”
“It’s… complicated.” The Reyes sister was right. It was complicated.
“Is he a friend of Angel’s?” If she wasn’t going to give straight answers, Zoe was going to start guessing.
Instead of answering, Amalia hesitated before nodding slowly. A friend… kind of. His boss. His President.
“You said he wouldn’t talk to you, have you tried calling him?” Zoe suggested causing Amalia to look down and shake her head.
Zoe continued, “Maybe you should? A simple phone call and this could all be fixed.”
Amalia rested her forehead against her clasped hands and sighed heavily, barely listening to her friend.
“It’ll get sorted out, A. It’ll be okay.”
Four days on, and it still had yet to be “sorted out”.
Had she tried to call him?
No.
Had he tried to call her?
Also no.
That shouldn’t have been cause for concern. Afterall, they’d had many days go by without a phone call before. But that was before. Before everything turned to shit in Amalia’s mind.
Her mind decided to torture her each night when she attempted to get a full night’s rest, teasing her with made up images of Bishop with another woman on his lap at a club party. Quite happily lapping up the attention.
She was sure that wasn’t the case, and even if it was, so what? He could do as he wanted. He was a single man. He could hook up with whoever he wanted. So why did the thought fill the brunette with so much dread?
Another sleepless night eventually led to morning and Amalia dragged herself out of bed, begrudgingly threw on an office appropriate outfit, washed her face and took a deep breath to ready herself for another day of seemingly meaningless work.
The day passed slowly. Send an email, answer a call, read an email, stare blankly at a report that was due tomorrow, wonder why James from sales insisted on hitting ‘reply all’ on an all company email for his reply of:
Thanks,
James.
Her mind numbing train of thought was gratefully interrupted by the short vibration of her phone, the contact on screen reading, Angel
Heads up if you see pop, he’s in a pissy mood.
Relevant enough to not be suspicious, but Amalia knew her brother well enough to know this was an attempt to break the wall of silence she had put between them.
Same with Ez.
Came a second text. Amalia typed out her reply.
Any particular reason?
Dunno. Come to the club later.
Amalia internally groaned. The freaking club. Why couldn’t he suggest his place like a normal brother?
Not in much of a party mood.
Chill. I meant to talk to your little brother.
Oh. Well, stopping by EZ’s trailer was out of the way of the club.. kind of. She could probably be in and out without raising the attention of the President. And if her brother needed her, that had to take priority, right?
Fine. Be there after work.
-
Amalia’s stomach was in knots as she drew closer to the club.
‘Sneak in, sneak out, you’ll be fine.’ She kept reminding herself.
If she saw Bishop she had a plan; hold her head high and carry on like the mature adult she was.
Putting her car in park, she gripped her steering wheel and drew a deep breath.
Get out of the car, she thought to herself, get out and beeline for the trailer.
She did just that.
Walking as light on her feet as she could without looking like she was guilty of something to draw as little attention as possible, she kept her head down and made her play straight for the trailer.
Chucky spotted her from the office window and waved out excitedly, she waved back, but apart from the likeable oddball, it seemed there was no one else around.
Good.
It was quiet around EZ’s trailer, as it usually is. Amalia hoped it meant he was tucked up inside minding his own business and not with the guys in the clubhouse.
“EZ!” She called as she approached the door, tapping twice, “You in here?”
She could hear a rustling coming from inside along with a muffled, “Just a sec!”
More rustling followed before finally the small door swung open to reveal the smiling younger brother.
“Hey, A. What’s up?” EZ leaned out the door but didn’t make any move to actually remove himself from his trailer, resulting in him towering over his sister - more than usual.
She gave him a little smile and shrugged, “Just hadn’t seen you around for a bit. Thought I’d check in.”
If EZ wanted to call bullshit he didn’t, instead playfully rolling his eyes, “I’m good, A. Nothing new to report here.”
Amalia knew her brother well enough to know he was lying. But she also knew she couldn’t push him too much, he was like Angel in that way.
She nodded, “Okay well… do you wanna go grab a coffee or something? I could do with a little outing.”
That wasn’t a lie, she could really do with the distraction.
She registered footsteps approaching from behind as EZ replied, “Uh, nah I’m good. Sorry just…” he shrugged, “kinda caught up with something at the moment.”
His smile was forced this time, eyes shooting between her and Angel who had just graced them with his presence. She didn’t acknowledge the oldest brother, attention still on EZ.
“You sure you’re good, EZ?”
Angel piped up, “I heard coffee. I’m down. Be good for some… sibling bonding or some shit.”
Clearly beginning to feel like he was being interrogated, the youngest Reyes pursed his lips and looked between his two siblings.
“What is this?” He started, glaring between them, “Some kind of intervention? You two gossiping about me now?”
While Amalia prepared to defend herself, Angel just shrugged and spoke first, “You’ve been acting weird lately. Pissed all the time. Same with pop. We’re just wondering what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing going on,” EZ stressed, “God you two need your own lives. Honestly, I’m good. Now if you don’t mind…” he gestured to the trailer, “I’m kinda busy right now.”
“Wait, EZ-“ Amalia was cut off by the door swinging closed, taking her younger brother with it. She turned to Angel, “What was that?”
Angel shrugged and looked at the trailer, “He’s been like that for a few days. Doesn’t say much to me.”
Since their mother’s passing, Amalia had tried really hard not to step into the ‘overbearing mother figure’ role. It wasn’t her job. And her brothers were both adults, she couldn’t expect them to tell her every detail about their lives. But in situations like this, when she could clearly see something wasn’t right, the urge to dig grew stronger.
Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Angel nudged her and they began walking back to her car, Amalia noted they were absentmindedly taking the long way, close to the clubhouse.
“Do you think it’s club shit?” She questioned, clocking Angel shaking his head in her peripheral.
“Nah. Things are decent at the moment. I think it’s gotta be something to do with him and Pop.”
Amalia sighed, “And like always, we’re the last to hear about it.”
“Yup.”
While they continued their slow walk toward her car, Amalia could feel eyes on her from afar. Turning her head slightly she found her gaze locked with that of the Mayan President. Gee what a surprise.
She quickly reverted her gaze and let it drop to the ground in front of her. Angel came to a stop and leant against an old fence, Amalia following suit.
“What about you?” Angel questioned. She look at her brother confused before he continued, “Are you okay? Didn’t hear from you for a while. Not like you.”
Amalia took a deep breath and looked around the yard, catching Bishop’s eye again. Neither moved their gaze this time, locked in a staring battle that the Reyes sister was sure to lose, “I’m okay, Angel. Just had some work shit going on. Forgot what a work/life balance was for a second.”
She broke her stare with the President and turned to give her brother a small smile, “I am good, Angel. Promise.”
Liar.
Angel nodded, accepting her answer, “Good. I can’t deal with two fucked up siblings.”
She let out a snort, “Welcome to my life, ‘mano.”
He pushed her and began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “I’m coming for food this week.”
“Only if you use your manners!” She retorted, laughing when he raised his middle finger in farewell.
Her eyes darted the yard once more, again locking with Bishop’s from the porch. Man had a real staring problem apparently.
So he can openly stare at me but can’t send a girl a text?
Again being the first to break eye contact she quickly turned and headed for her car, readying herself to once again hide away and overthink what Bishop’s staring could mean.
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Four Roads to Heavenly Hell - An EZ Reyes/Reader, Angel Reyes/Reader, Bishop Losa/Reader & Gilly Lopez/Reader One Shot Story.
So yes, this is a beast of a one shot and I am absolutely knackered after writing it, lmfao! I’m posting and going to SLEEP! My brain aches! Enjoy, besties!
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Words - 4,216
Warnings - FILTHY smut below the cut, four dudes running train on reader, minors DNI!
You told him to be careful.
You begged him not to get out of the car and give them attitude.  
He didn’t listen, which is what led to this, sitting around a large table within the clubhouse of the Mayans MC, four stern looking members glowering right at your boyfriend, the president sitting at the head of the table, his eyes combing over your boyfriend, his VP standing behind him, a large gun jammed against the side of his neck.  
“All of this could have been avoided,” the handsome man begins, picking up his shot of tequila and sinking it, continuing to stare dangerously. “I think you know that now, don’t you?”  
Your boyfriend is silent, the VP pushing his gun harder against his neck. “Answer him.”
“Yes, yes I do.”  
“Not only do you cut us off, then fuck with us, trying to knock two of my guys off their bikes, but then, you don’t even have the sense to apologise and drive off. Nope, you had to try and act like the tough guy, likely showing off in front of your girlfriend. At least she had the sense to tell you to leave it alone and just apologise. It’s a shame you didn’t listen to anything other than your ego. For that, we’re gonna punish you.”
Hearing that causes a chill of frost to surge through your veins, the president noticing your body stiffen, his eyes moving from your boyfriend as he looks at you, smiling widely suddenly, his tongue wetting his top lip as his eyes sweep over you. The action makes you settle a little, but still, your brain is speeding through all of the scenarios likely to befall your boyfriend as punishment. None of them are good, because nothing good comes from fucking with a bunch of outlaws.  
“No, no, please, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” your boyfriend begins, the president laughing darkly, his perfect, white teeth gleaming in the low light of the room.
“Oh, now you’re sorry, huh?”
The tallest of them, a gorgeous man with raven black hair snorts softly, pouring himself a shot of tequila and sinking it. “They always are, a half hour too late.”
“Any thoughts, EZ?” the VP asks, shifting his weight to the other foot, the gun still pressed firmly.  
The handsome man leans back in his chair, running two fingers over the corners of his moustache and down over his chin, his nails scratching at the short, nearly trimmed hair there as his eyes once again flit to you. “I do, Bish.” He rises from his seat, slowly walking around the table until he reaches you, extending his hand. “Come on.”
“No,” you immediately sob, beginning to quiver with fear.  
“Please, please!” your boyfriend pleads. “Don’t hurt her, she didn’t do anything!”
The president turns to him. “I know she didn’t do anything, and I’m not going to hurt her.” Glancing back at you, he jerks his head back softly. “C’mon, baby. Nothing bad will happen. I swear to you.”  
You still don’t believe him despite his reassurance, being led around to the head of the table, his big hands bracketing your waist and lifting you up, seating you atop the shiny wood. You’re still shaking, wondering what is about to happen, your fate now tied in with your boyfriend’s punishment, it would seem. Your eyes dart over to him, but this time, you’re angry. Angry that because of his actions, you are the one who’ll be paying the price. All because he had to be an asshole. 
“Hey.” A gentle hand touches to your cheek, turning your head. “Look at me, there you go. I meant it, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, I swear it. Your boyfriend, though? He’ll wish he never fucked with us, after he’s watched me lay you back on this table and fuck you right in front of him.”  
“No! Please don’t do that, don’t rape my girlfriend!” he squeals, getting up, the VP’s hand cuffing his shoulder and pushing him back down into his seat. EZ turns to him, beginning to grin.  
“I’m not gonna rape her, bro. I ain’t that kind of man. Believe me, your girl will consent.” You get the distinct impression that something worse will befall your boyfriend if you don’t, but yet when he focuses on you once more, the way he looks at you evokes a pleasant bloom in your tummy. “You hear that, beautiful? Told you, nothing bad will happen, I want you to know that, alright?”  
You nod, yet you’re still terrified.  
“My name’s EZ, and you?”
“(Y/N)”
He grins, reaching to stroke your neck, his mouth nearing your ear. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” His lips land in a soft kiss against the side of your neck, his tongue touching in a featherlight lick, another kiss following. “Relax, querida. I promise, I’ll make sure you love every last second of this.” His hands touch to your legs, the action making you jump. “Shhh, don’t be nervous.” Another kiss presses your throat, the hands resting on your thighs coaxing them to part gradually, yours grasped on the edge of the table in a white-knuckle grip.
You glance at your boyfriend, his face a picture of horror and disbelief, EZ turning your head back to him. “Just look at me, baby girl. Yeah, that’s it.” His mouth then meets yours softly, the kiss chaste to begin with, his body moving between your thighs, the action which prompts it to deepen, your lips parting, allowing the intrusion of his tongue into your mouth to press and roll against yours.
Warming to it, your hands slacken their grip, enjoying the way he kisses you, although it throws up conflict, feeling your boyfriend’s stare boring into the side of your head, not wanting to let yourself get carried away, not wishing to hurt his feelings any more than they already will be at being forced to watch another man have sex with you. However, a little voice in a far-flung corner of your mind whispers to you, telling you that if he got you into this mess, in a situation that truly could have resulted in you being hurt, then why not enjoy yourself a little?  
Letting go of the table, you rest your hands to his chest, stroking, the feeling of hard muscles beneath causing heat to mist at your apex, your legs wrapping around him, his hands clutching at the soft of your thighs as he moans faintly against your tongue.  
“Yeah, you want me, don’t you?” he whispers quietly, his hands coming to stroke your face as you bite your lip, your eyes giving him all the permission he seeks as he reaches beneath your dress, grasping your undies and pulling them off.  
“She didn’t say yes! She didn’t!” your boyfriend protests, EZ rapidly drawing his gun as he lunges forward.  
“Yeah, she did. Now, you sit down and watch me take care of her. You never know, you might learn something.” His words are cocky, and a little part of you wants to laugh, EZ seeing it in you as he grins, putting his gun away and kissing you wantonly, grasping your dress and pulling it over your head, your bra cast off with equal swift deftness. You’re shy of being nude in front of four men you’ve never met before, until their words make you settle instantly.
“Damn, that’s a beautiful body,” the tall guy with the black hair praises, his eyes raking over you, the big, bald man he’s talking and drinking with giving you an equally approving look.  
“Beautiful tits, querida.” He winks, throwing back a shot, he and the black-haired guy continuing to converse quietly as your focus returns to EZ, who kisses your neck, murmuring in your ear, exalting your beauty before he sits down, shuffling the chair closer to table, pulling your body near to the edge. He spreads your thighs, taking a look at you closely, the hunger in his eyes burning before he dips his head, kissing your pubic mound a few times, his tongue rolling through your folds.  
A soft exclamation flutters from your throat, the warmth of his tongue instantly searing, your pulse quickening when you hear him rumble a quiet moan. Each lick parts the petals of your cunt, and when his tongue seeks your clit, you whimper, wet warmth circling slowly, his lips gently closing to suck, alternating until the noises he draws from you louden, your cadence sweet as he laps at the nectar of you.
You can feel the horrified stare of your boyfriend as he watches you enjoying it, but you don’t dare turn your head to view it, or let him see the desire in your eyes, stirred by the man who currently has a mouthful of your pussy, his tongue laying long, slow licks against you, driving cool fire over your very bones.  
“Mmm, right there?” he asks, a flat lick making your clit bounce.
“Ahh, yes!” you cry, panting, your hands reaching to grasp his head, your hips rising off the table, EZ continuing delighting you with those firm licks, the sizzle of sensation sharp rooted and twisting a coil within you, your bud swelling against the unrelenting heat of his mouth.  
He pauses for a second, kissing your inner thigh before turning his head. “Does she moan this pretty for you, bro?” Every man in the room who isn’t your boyfriend laughs, EZ looking up at you with a wink before continuing to lick you like you are ripe, summer fruit, his talented mouth working the bliss potently as your back arches, your nails dragging his scalp, unsure whether it’s too much or not enough.  
He conjures little bursts of magic to snap down your spine, grinning against your soaking folds as his tongue becomes rapid at your bud, forcing a wail from you, glimmers rolling through your walls, walls that beg to feel his cock parting, such is the absolute splendour of his mouth upon you.  
“Oh god, that feels so fucking good!” you can’t help but grit, EZ emerging from between your legs, licking the gloss of your arousal from his lips, grinning as he unbuckles his jeans.
“I’d have eaten you all night long, querida, but fuck. I gotta be inside that pretty little pussy right now.” He pulls a condom from his kutte, slipping his jeans and boxers to his thighs, a long, thick cock springing free. Your eyes light up as you watch him roll the condom on, excited at the fact this is the first big dick you’ve gotten to enjoy in a while, EZ moving between your legs and kissing you with smouldering heat.
The bulbous head of him snags at your opening before gliding in, a gasp fluttering over your lips as your tongue battles with his, drawing a sumptuous groan from him as you yield to his length, sheathing him well, his strokes slow and contained, pushing you back against the table, his hands holding your legs spread as he watches your wet little hole swallowing his cock whole.  
Your nerves sing in symphony as he spreads you, dragging your walls with biting pleasure, the pressure of him within you perfect, your mouth falling open. Little cries leave your throat, EZ’s hands sliding down over your nakedness to grasp your thighs, holding you as he begins to rail you against the table, a few more inches of him slipping in as your cunt becomes wetter and more supple against the deep punch of him.  
You tremble as lightning crackles beneath your skin, the pleasure searing right to your marrow, his dark eyes fixed on you as he smiles, watching you falling apart for him. “Yeah, look at you, enjoying the fuck out of my dick.” His turns to look at your boyfriend, smirking widely. “And all you had to do was admit you’re a dickless jackass and apologise, and you’d have saved yourself all this. Although, I’m pretty sure your lady is glad you didn’t right now.”  
And as you feel him speed up, his hands clutched tight upon your thighs, you are glad, because god, the way he fucks you. He leaves you wanting more as your bodies race to culmination, his thrusts becoming staccato as he grits curses, his eyes closing tightly as he pounds into you, a torrid chill of heat flooding your veins as you wail, coming hard around the rapidity of his cock as it jerks and spills, leaving you breathless.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he pants, pulling you up to kiss you, gently sliding from within the trembling clasp of your cunt, pulling the condom off and rearranging himself back into his jeans and boxers, noting the hunger in your kisses.
“Uh huh,” you gasp, giggling softly.
“Didn’t quite dampen your fire though, did it?” You shake your head, kissing him again. “Anyone else want a crack at this insatiable little thing?”  
“Oh yeah,” the man to your left immediately speaks, EZ giving you one last kiss before trading places with him.  
“Have at it, Bish.” He then sits down to the side of the table, not obscuring your boyfriend’s view. “Damn, your girl has a fuckin’ sweet pussy. I’d apologise if me and my guys are gonna wreck sex with you for her one by one, but nah. You deserve it.” While EZ laughs at the look he’s given in return, your attentions are captured by the gorgeous guy before you, his smirk entertained.  
“Well, ain’t you gorgeous, sweetheart,” he rumbles, pulling his cock out, whistling to EZ sharply and holding out his hand. The president roots around in his kutte and passes him a condom, Bish nodding in thanks, pulling it on and parting your thighs wider before he sinks himself into you with a grunt, his head dipping to lay kisses over your chest as you sigh with gratification. He isn’t as big as EZ, but god, what a beautiful cock. “Mmm, I’m gonna enjoy this.”  
Your body moulds to his, the leather of his kutte offering delicious friction as your pebbled nipples rub against it, one hand clutching the table, the other wrapping around his neck as you meet his thrusts, bouncing against him, the roll of your hips taking him all the way up into you. Each thick vein gives the most incredible stimulation as your walls clench around him, your tongues entwined as you pant against one another, your nails raking at the nape of his neck.  
“Yeah, fuck me.” You purr, and oh, how he does. You’re two amazing cocks past even noticing that your boyfriend is still in the room, continuing to look on in disbelief, seeing you getting so into it. Your eyes couldn’t be torn away from the lustful intensity that Bish stares at you with, though, not for anything, his teeth biting your lower lip between magmatic kisses, his big, rough hands kneading your tits as his hips rock into you, fucking into the sodden clasp of your cunt with hard snaps.
He has you cresting with a scream, your nails ripping at the back of his neck as he lines you up only to topple you completely, his cock twitching through each raspy grunt, resting his forehead to yours as he grins.  
“Damn, that girl can take a fuckin’ pounding, shit!” the guy with the black hair remarks, raising an eyebrow, winking at you. “Oh, honey, you gon’ get it hard when you get to me.”  
The huge bald guy snorts. “Yeah, you goin’ last, homie. You ain’t ruining her with the widower maker you got in your pants.”  
He smirks, sinking a shot. “Don’t be jealous, Gilly.”
Your eyebrows flutter. “Widower maker? Should I be scared?”
“Yes,” comes the joint reply of EZ, Bish and Gilly.  Immediately, you look back at him, watching him grin as he scratches his beard.  
“Yeah... you won’t be able to stand up after I’m done.” The wink he follows it with has your stomach rolling over pleasantly, but you’re too preoccupied by Gilly moving to you to give it much more thought, being handed a shot before he lowers his head to suck your nipples with a hungry groan, his mouth finding yours, kissing you with the kind of skill that makes your pulse throb, his hand sliding down your body, thumb pressing against your clit and beginning to circle.  
Sparks crackle through you as you suck his tongue, your arousal gleaming once more at the fresh contact against your aching bundle, while you look over at EZ and raise your eyebrows.  
“Jesus fucking Christ, what am I, a goddamned vending machine?” His mutter has you giggling, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of condoms, scattering them on the table. “Something tells me you’re gonna use all of them with us, am I right?”  
Picking one up, you rip it open with your teeth. “Oh yeah. Unless big guy over there ruins me, but even then, we got all night.”  
You boyfriend sits up, a spluttered exclamation of ‘What?’ leaving his mouth, EZ pressing his boot to his chest and shoving him back in his chair. “Yeah, I doubt she’s still your girl, mano. Still don’t mean you get to leave, though.” The guys laugh as you pull the condom from the packet, Gilly letting his jeans fall as you eye his cock, placing the little roll of latex against your lips, and then hopping off the table to roll it down over him with your mouth.  
“How’d you want me, big fella?” you purr, kissing the side of his tattooed throat once you’ve straightened again.  
“Turn over, ass up.” You oblige, his big hand striking your cheeks in turn before he pulls you back, pressing your entrance and shunting forward, filling you instantly. There’s no slow build with him, he’s ravenous from the get-go, pounding into you as he spanks your ass, the wide drag of his cock sending pulses through your walls, the coil within you beginning to wind on itself like an angry serpent as you cry out.  
His hands grip your hips hard, his fingertips pressing into your bones as a slight tilt of his hips sends him a fraction deeper, hitting something within you that has you pulsing around him as your thighs quiver, sweat slick over your spine as you begin to pant hard, looking over at the gorgeous guy who is set to finish you, making a motion with your finger.  
“C’mere,” you pant, watching him sink a mouthful of tequila from the bottle before he saunters over, seating himself on the table and lying back, his head beneath yours. “Couldn’t wait.” Leaning to him, you begin to kiss, those kisses like honey dripping over a blade, sweet and sharp, full of longing. He’s the one you’ve had your eye on from the beginning, hoping that somehow, once your nerves had calmed, things would end up how they have and eventually, you’d get to enjoy him as well.  
Your body is sore and tired, but you’re far from done being passed around like some kind of outlaw fuck toy, Gilly spanking your ass hard as he moves into you like a piston, your kisses with the man below you gaining heat as you stroke his neck, one of his hands moving to fist in your hair as he moans into your mouth.  
“Don’t you fuckin’ be distracting her up there, Angel,” Gilly pants, a particularly hard shunt into you making you whine helplessly, lightning flickering your spine.  
“Nah, bro. Just being soft with her before I fucking break her goddamned back.” And his name is Angel? Seems much more demonic than his name would suggest, his mouth returning to yours, his other hand playing with your tits as your inner walls begin to clamp onto the cock splitting you wide, milking Gilly of his release as yours floods through you, the tingles lapping in waves right to your fingers and toes.  
As soon as he’s slid from within you, Angel hauls himself onto the table properly, his big body covering yours, your hands savage at him, yanking in his hair, nails clawing at his neck, unfastening the buttons of his shirt rapidly, needing to feel male flesh against yours, since the other three remained almost fully clothed. His chest is a feast of well-defined muscles and smooth skin, his weight crushing your body to the hard wood beneath you, his kisses predatory, your hands slipping between you to unfasten his belt.  
“Yeah, want me to ruin you, beautiful?”
Your head dips, your teeth biting his neck where the short hair of his beard trails to. “Yes. Right now.”
Your demand is met by another blazing kiss, his hand reaching out and snatching a condom from the table, tongue licking between your tits as he moves back to his feet. You move after him with hunger, unzipping his jeans, your hand delving within to grasp what you can see bulging through the black denim, your mouth falling open. Your fingers don’t even close around it, and when you run your hand up to the head...
“Holy shit, where does it end?!”  
Your exclamation has the guy's guffawing.
“Told you,” Gilly nods. “Widower maker.”
“I think we’ve proved our point, so we’ll get rid of the distraction for you, sweetheart,” Bishop then speaks, hauling your boyfriend out of the chair he’s been held at gunpoint in, snorting with laughter. “Not that he’s been much of one with us here to take care of you, pretty girl.”  
You don’t even turn around, Angel shedding the rest of his clothes before pulling the condom on, a shiver running through him as he watches you stroking your clit, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and sliding them over his beautiful lips. He sucks them, biting down hard before picking you up, and then literally dropping you down on what can only be described as a third leg. Wow.  
You stretch around him, your mouth falling open as he secures a strong arm around your waist, his other free to lay hard, repetitive spanks against your ass as he begins to bounce you on the hugest cock you’ve ever had inside of you, hanging onto him as you wail, muted only by his mouth returning to yours, kissing you with unbridled want.  
Each spank of his hand hurts, your body tender already from the three men who came before him, but your nerves sparking like he’s the first, glimmers shocking you, dancing upon your bones, mingling with your very marrow, Angel moving rapidly to cage you against the nearest wall, his hands slipping down to grip your thighs as he ploughs into you savagely. Oh god. He’s a beast, his groans all grit and sin as he lays bites along your jaw, his cock so heavy in you, you feel as if you’re taking an entire storm within, thunder rolling through your groin as he pounds you until you scream.
He slows a little then, letting you enjoy the humongous length of him dragging your walls, lighting you up, your soaking cunt fluttering on him as he rolls his hips up into you in slow, delicious rhythm, tongue circling with yours.  
“Fuck, you take a dick so goddamned well, querida.”  
Why yes, even you yourself are impressed at how well you’ve managed so far that evening, definitely glad that he was the last in line, because boy, you know you’ll be ruined after him. His groans are long and heated as a bonfire of pleasure crackles up your spine, Angel beginning to arrow into you faster once more. You can feel his abs tensing against you, his pubic bone grinding against your clit, sending a hail of pleasure pelting beneath your skin, your kisses messy and filthily indulgent as smoky groans temper the air.  
Your veins are warmed by the unrelenting, sharp waves of pleasure as you both chase the swell of release, your body sweat slick and heaving into his, until you feel it winding like a summer tempest, and when it hits, cracking through you like ice over a frozen lake, Angel railing into you with a string of expletives as he follows you into tumbling, surging bliss.  
“Yeah, yeah you were right,” you pant, your head thudding back against the wall. “You ruined me. I need a drink, a shower and a nap.”
He carries you back over to the table, gently lifting you from his cock and seating you upon the cum stained wood, pulling the condom off as he catches your eyes in a gaze. “I can make all three of those things happen for you.”  
You started out the night being scared of where you’d end up because of the Mayans. By 2am, you’re shower fresh and in bed curled around the one who wrecked you in the sweetest way possible. The other three, they were amazing, wonderful, hot as hell encounters, but never to be enjoyed again. Why? Because Angel doesn’t actually let you leave his house until you tell him you’re his girl.  
It’s perhaps not a story you plan on telling your grandchildren, but definitely one you’ll never forget.
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withmyteeth · 11 months
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Hello! (I hope I'm doing this right 😬) For the flash fic event, may I please request "You're the last person I expected to see tonight...but you're exactly the person I wanted to see" for my beloved Bishop please? Thank you!
So, as I was making this list, I was running through the different guys in my head and this one SCREAMED Bishop to me and I'm so glad you thought so too! Enjoy :-)
REMINDER: This is an exercise to get words down on paper as fast as possible. This is being posted without being reread or edited.
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Being King comes with its perks, but behind every perk is about three drawbacks waiting to pounce.  Many, many nights, Bishop has sat on his throne at the head of the table and wondered if it was all worth it.  Being the president was challenging enough, but to preside over the entire Mayans MC?  Sometimes Bishop wondered why he bothered.
He lights another cigarette in, blowing the smoke out over the empty table.  Templo had ended hours ago, the guys filtering out for some drinks before eventually heading home, leaving him alone in the silence.  He should head home himself, but he can’t get his thoughts to quiet down enough that he feels confident that he could safely navigate the path to get there.
There’s so many moving pieces, so many threats to watch out for, not just on the outside, but within his own club.  Men with their eye on his throne, some of them gunning for his life.  He’s got to be aware of everyone all the time, predict everyone’s moves before they make them, which is why he startles so hard when the stained glass door slides open.
“It’s just me,” you say quietly, your voice echoing through the empty space.
He glances down at the watch on his wrist.  The sun should be rising any moment now.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You shrug, feet padding silently across the floor as you close the distance between you.  He pushes his chair back, the sound of the feet dragging against the wood too loud in the quiet space.  You don’t stop your trajectory, sliding onto his lap, his arms settling around your waist.  His head falls onto your shoulder as he squeezes you against him.  Just having you here, in his arms, the chaos in his head lowers to a dull drone that he’s able to ignore, the tension finally falling from his limbs allowing his exhaustion to hit him like a freight train.  
You feel his body sag against you, the worry that drove you to the clubhouse increasing tenfold.  “Everything okay, baby?”
“Same old, same old,” he says, picking his head up from your shoulder, trying to soothe your worry with a smirk.
“Are you sure? Because don’t think I didn’t notice how you about jumped out of your skin when I came in.”
He could tell you how worried he is, how on edge the club is, how everything is falling apart, but there’s no sense in both of you feeling this way, so instead, he slides his hand a little lower, cupping your behind through the thin material of your shorts.  “I’ll admit, darlin’, you’re the last person I expected to see tonight,” his hand tightens, “but you’re exactly the person I wanted to see.”
Before you can react to the heat in his eyes, he grabs the back of your neck, pressing his mouth to yours, tongues meeting before lips as you match his ferocity with your own.  Both of you begin to claw at each other’s clothing until he has your wrists bound in his hand, your face pressed against the table, his hips meeting yours again and again, using you as an outlet for every fear and frustration he’s had, sitting at this spot.
You know he’s keeping secrets, you know there’s things he’s not telling you, but even if he won’t share those with you, you know you can be there for him like this, letting him use his body to say the things his pride won’t let him, knowing that as long as you have each other, everything will be alright.
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imagineredwood · 21 days
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Summoned
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Summary: The guys all share you, their perfect girl, but when Bishop requests you first thing in the morning and finds out that someone has already gotten to you early, he's not exactly thrilled.
Pairing: Bishop Losa x female reader
Warnings: Free use implied, oral sex female receiving, overstimulation, quite literally flicking the bean 🫘
Word count: 1K
A/N: ........not requested, I’ve just had this in my brain and drafts for a long time and have been holding off, not sure if this was gonna land well but I finally said fuck it and found the courage to post it and now we’re here. Probably going to turn it into a series like the Crybaby one
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The hand on your lower back was warm as it touched you gently. You paused pouring the coffee into the mug and turned, finding EZ standing there with a smile. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek near your eye, your lashes ticking him as your eye fluttered closed.
"Bish wants to see you."
You nodded, a small bashful smile coming to your lips. EZ used the hand on your back to usher you towards the Templo door and you went, knocking gently even though you were requested.  His voice was muffled when it told you to come in but you still heard it. You slid the door and walked in, Bishop's eyes on you as soon as you appeared. His eyes raked over you.
Taking in the sway of your hips as you walked.
The way your breasts looked so soft in your top, your nipples slightly visible. They weren't hard, but you had long since stopped wearing bras in the clubhouse when it was just the boys and you. He watched your thighs as they led out of your shorts, smooth and begging to be bit. Bishop was gentle with you, mostly. But he could also be harsh sometimes. Deep bites and sharp spanks. Especially when he felt undermined or disregarded.
And this week he had been made to feel both plenty.
You walked all the way up to him, hands folded neatly in front of you as you looked at him, waiting. He simply took a long drag from his cigar, eyes dark and lusting as they stared up at you.
"Shorts off. Sit in front of me."
His other hand tapped the table right in front of him and you nodded, shimmying out of your shorts and hopping up onto the table. You sat there still, legs slightly spread, hands resting on the table on either side of your knees. Bishop continued to smoke, eyes on you.
"Lean back a little."
You listened and moved your hands behind you, propping yourself up a bit as you leaned back.
"Good girl. You always do what you're told."
You smiled softly, the tiny breath you let out at the praise running straight to the President's cock.
"Because that's what you are. Right? You're a good girl for us? You take whatever we give you with a smile?"
You nodded again, your eyes bright and Bishop could tell all your thoughts were melting away.
"I can't hear you."
"Yes, Bishop."
He took a deep drag again before putting the cigar down to rest on the ashtray, leaning forward. His fingers were warm as they trailed over the front of your panties, running up and down along your slit. He watched your breathing quicken but he kept up with his teasing for a handful of minutes before he finally hooked his index finger in the corner of the fabric, pulling it to the side and exposing your pussy to him. It was puffy, more so than usual, and he chucked, knowing exactly what had taken place.
"Angel ate you out this morning, didn't he."
You giggled breathlessly and nodded.
"Uh, yeah. He woke me up."
Bishop nodded, knowing exactly how your sensitive skin looked when the bearded man eagerly ravaged you with his mouth. They all did. Angel would pin your hips down with his forearms and you had nowhere to escape from the scratch of the coarse hair nor his unrelenting tongue. Bishop chuckled and tapped his finger against your clit, getting the exact jolt from you that he was expecting.
"Poor little thing. Must be so sensitive."
You nodded and bit your lip as you looked down and watched him. You knew him well enough to know the sympathy was inauthentic. His hand reared back and delivered a slap, your thighs closing slightly of their own volition. It wasn't a hard slap, but the sensitivity heightened the feeling. He did it again, and again, then once more, chucking darkly at your soft whimpers. He cupped you with his hand and then rubbed along you, using the palm of his hand to dig into your lips and clit each time his hand reached your mound. He removed his hand then and you sighed, thinking that maybe he was done with the torture. Instead, he used his fingers to spread you open, your clit bare and fully exposed. You swallowed, eyes trained on him, wondering what he was going to do next. You expected maybe another slap. Perhaps a kiss if he was feeling generous.
You weren't expecting the sharp direct flick that had you squealing. Your thighs instinctively tried to close but Bishop wedged his shoulders forward, forcing them open.
"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were playing favorites."
You shook your head feverishly, eyes trained on him.
"No, no. Of course not."
The President stared at you for a handful of seconds more, your eyes pleading. For what exactly, you weren't sure, but he nodded once and then placed his hands on your hips, dragging you closer to his mouth. He didn't say anything else after that, simply burying his face into you. He attacked your clit on purpose, knowing Angel had likely not taken it easy on you.
Neither would he.
He kissed and sucked and moaned and growled and laved his tongue against you, hands preventing you from getting away as your hips bucked and writhed. It didn't take long for you to reach the edge, hands gripping his forearms, your nails biting into his skin as you came. By the time your vision had returned, he was sitting back in his chair again, cigar between his lips once again. You sat back upright and he chuckled at the state of you.
Eyes glazed over. Mouth hung open ever so slightly. Cheeks warm. Chest heaving. He admired you, drinking in your beauty as you sat before him trying to gather yourself. You were wrecked and he hadn't even taken his cock out yet. 
Yet.
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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   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady
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
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drabbles-mc · 26 days
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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
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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.
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bullet-prooflove · 30 days
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Valentine's Day Bingo: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader
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Tagging: @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @fleureeee @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @skyesthebomb @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@lora21 @kmc1989 @jp1019 @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @kabloswrld
Can be read as stand alone or a companion piece to:
Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop discovers a surprise Christmas gift.
Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.
Snow - Bishop talks to you about something that's been on his mind.
Miracle - You and Bishop get an extra Christmas gift this year.
Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square
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The first time Bishop feels his baby kick is during Coco and Stitche’s wedding reception. The two of you are swaying together on the dance floor, his grizzled cheek pressed against yours, eyes closed as the music serenades you. There’s no better feeling in the world than this, having you pressed up against him, the baby residing in the space between you.
You’re five months pregnant at this point, just starting to show. He spends his evenings singing lullabies to his daughter in Spanish, his lips ghosting over your skin before he gets distracted by other things.
It’s when the song changes that the baby starts to react. The band switches to something with a faster pace and he feels a tiny dig against his navel.
“Oh.” You say as you tilt your head to look up at him. “I think she’s kicking.”
You take his hand in yours, pressing his palm flat against the baby bump and he laughs when he feels the small nudge. He spends the next few minutes following his daughter’s movements before the song changes and the baby goes quiet.
“She’s strong.” He says fondly as he draws you into his arms once more. “She’s going to be exactly like you.”
“She could end up a hellion like you.” You counter and Bishop grumbles.
“I hope not.”
The last thing he wants for his daughter is for her to adopt his personality traits, he was wild as a teenager and his biggest fear is that his daughter will follow in his footsteps.
“You turned out alright in the end.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing over that sensitive little spot at the nape of his neck, the one that releases all his tension.
“With a little help.” He smiles, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.
Bishop has always been convinced that you saved him. He was a functioning alcoholic when he met you, smoking forty a day and running drugs and guns up and down the country. He’d expected to be dead before sixty, through a bullet or bike accident. He was careless with his own life, there hadn’t been much to live for after Aiden had died. He’d been in a state of depression for over eight years before he started to see the sun again.
Now he’s on the board of the community centre, he has a home, a partner, a baby on the way. He doesn’t drink anymore, he’s cut his smoking right down, he’s trying to quit before Luna arrives. The job is less risky because the club has gone legit. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he has you to thank for that.
“You saved my life.” He tells you as he cradles you close. “You saved my god damned life.”
Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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dallianceangel · 3 months
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𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 ❤️‍🔥
Guess who accidentally posted some unfinished fics last night... me, of course. Luckily, I've finished them all and reposted them 😊
🦋 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🦋
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This is wrong. So very wrong. You shouldn't be standing here, and Bishop shouldn't have let you in. It's never a good idea for the two of you to be alone in the same room together, but you two just never learn.
“I love you, Obispo.”
It's the first time he's ever heard you say that, and he's never wanted to kiss you more than he does right now. As he edges closer towards you, the image of Angel flashes in his mind. He immediately steps back, shaking his head, feeling guilty.
He whispers back. “We can't keep doin' this.”
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darqchilddaydreamz · 5 months
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Heading Out
A Bishop Losa fic
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Bishop Losa x Female OC one shot
18+ ONLY BLOG * MINORS GO AWAY!!
2k words
Reblog! Comment! Talk to me like it sends me a thrill...cuz it does ;)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Here we go.....
"Querida."
The endearment flew from his smiling lips before he could stop it. Bishop knew something was amiss the moment he opened his door. She wouldn't be there unless there was…something. He should have been more surprised but he had stood in their doorway unannounced a thousand times - hers and Marco's. Marco. His friend-become-brother, a relationship that had been forged under the cut, blood, exhaust and vows of secrecy. Somehow his marrying her only strengthened it, as if she was this thing that they now had the privilege of protecting together. Seeing her was like seeing him. Hugging her was like slapping his arms around him again - selfishly Bishop squeezed tighter and held on a little longer.
He took in a deep breath and smiled wide, ignoring the unease humming around the edges of his joy. "It's good to see you, Rabbit."
She grinned at hearing the name he and Marco had coined for her. Bishop looked her over. She was the same, beautiful and strong…but different in ways only he would notice. Her smile was not so bright and easy, her eyes not so full of life, her posture not so open. To those who knew, she looked like a vibrant survivor of a senseless tragedy but he knew she carried something else. Stepping back, he forced himself to stop staring at her and dropped his eyes to the cargo she carried. Through the thin plastic bags, he could see two six-packs of beer and cartons of food that were starting to emit a smell that had his stomach perked up.
With a softer smile, he nodded toward them, "Looks like a good haul."
She held up the bag holding two six packs of beer, "I'd never come empty-handed."
"Am I gonna need it?"
The question was only partially in jest. Bishop registered her half smile and shrug as a fair answer…for now. Taking the heavier bag from her hand, he stood back to let her in. At his tiny table, she unpacked the food as if she had done it a million times before. Neither one of them bothered with the kind of chit-chat that old friends engaged in, they were family. Bishop noted how tight her shoulders were drawn up and wanted to place his hands on them. Relax. You're here now.
They ate in silence. She only pecked at her food, drinking more than he remembered her being able to do. People change, he reminded himself. This just wasn't the kind of change he wanted to see in her. It only took one of the six packs meeting her empty belly to get her to start talking. The verbal fluff lasted for a few minutes before she said what had been gnawing at her, what landed her on his doorstep.
"I ran into Victor."
Bishop's mouthful stuck in his throat. Victor Mantero. Marco's killer and now VP of Los Santos.
It had been years since his name was spoken between the two of them. In Bishop's mind, he saw flashes of that last night - remembering her skin being cold as he was grabbing and shaking her, dragging her back to his car. Her rage at him, kicking and fighting to try to get out. Her tortured screams of disbelief watching Victor's bike pull away. Her face contorted, spewing accusations of Bishop's disloyalty to Marco. Her hands finally dropping the gun. He still felt the guilt from knowing her pain could have been alleviated for at least a short amount of time. But at what cost? It would have been her life.
Bishop reached for his beer to get the now tasteless lump to go the rest of the way down. His dark eyes were trained on her but she wouldn't look at him. "You talked?"
The smile that twitched her lips was so minute if he hadn't been staring directly at her when he asked the question, he would have missed it. "He tried to."
Bishop struggled to keep his breathing even. If he did the wrong thing or said the wrong thing, she'd clam up and he needed to know. She lifted her head again, allowing him access to the secrets in her eyes.
"Tonight I…I gotta head out to Vicky's."
Bishop stared at her, absorbing what she had brought to his home, to his table. What she had done that would make her say those words.
If it gets any worse you could always head out to Vicky's. It had been a running joke between the three of them …sort of. In truth, it was a valid exit strategy. If things got bad, go to Vicky's and access the tunnels to get across the border. Disappear. She was going to disappear.
His hand was gripping her arm before he knew he was moving. "Victor?"
Her smile was the saddest thing he had ever seen. He was unprepared for the deep sorrow he saw in her eyes. She'd had made her choice. No longer interested in his plate, he stood up and paced a few steps away, patting his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Finding it, he kept his back turned to her, wanting a moment to gain control of himself before facing her again. Taking a long drag or two, he turned back around to see that she had abandoned her food, too, and moved to the couch.
"Can I get a little of that?" she asked.
Bishop snorted out a chuckle at her, "Sure you don't need something stronger?"
She shook her head no. Bishop grudgingly handed her his cigarette before sitting down beside her. She drew on it slowly with her eyes closed, letting the smoke escape her mouth on its own in white floating curls before blowing it away. Handing it back, her body held none of the tension she came in with. That's what a confession will do for a person.
Bishop looked down at the lip gloss stain she left on it before he took another pull, blowing out the smoke forcefully. "Vicky's?"
She swiveled her body toward his, pulling her leg up. "B…you-," she started.
Reaching over, she rubbed her thumb gently over the ridges his frown made on his forehead. Instantly, he relaxed. And they stayed that way, her rubbing away his frown with her thumb and him allowing it out of his own selfish enjoyment. "You've always been my protector, haven't you?" It wasn't a question. "You've been such a good friend to me."
With that, his frown was back.
Leaning in more, she acknowledged her incorrect statement tracing her thumb over the hairs below his bottom lip, "More than a friend."
His voice was low but the anger was there for the risk she took, "You should have come to me." Her hand dropped into her lap and he immediately took it in his. "Why didn't you tell me you were...".
Squeezing his hand to quiet him, she straightened her shoulders, "I couldn't ask you, B." She flitted her fingers over his patch, the one he got in her absence. "El Presidente. You have men to protect from personal crap like this. Your club didn't need my burden. This was my problem-."
"Our problem!" he snapped. A silent apology flashed across his face. Lowering his voice he spoke low and tight. "He was my friend. Always more than a brother to me, you know that."
"How could I forget?" She paused to consider her words carefully, not wanting to upset him any further. She needed the relationship she still had with him so much she could never express it. "And because of that, your men would have followed you right into a decade-old revenge if you had even thought of wanting them to."
Bishop smashed out his forgotten cigarette and took her other hand. His eyes searched hers while she put words to the separation from justice he felt. "This was a one-on-one thing. I didn't need…we didn't need for it to become a problem between your club and his crew. You know what kind of mess it would have turned into."
Bishop averted his eyes. His mind couldn't reconcile her standing in front of Victor alone. Alone.
"Oh, Obispo," she smiled so softly, cupping his face. "I know you see."
And he did. But now that Marco's killer was dead, he was losing her, too. With fingers interlaced, they sat in the quiet of lost time and one rash decision.
Wait, he thought, she never said she killed him. His eyes flickered with hope when he began to ask, "Is he-?"
"Yes."
She had a certain peace on her face as she fingered the necklace she wore. A silver bullet with Marco's name and symbol etched into it. "I put one in his mouth and sewed his lips shut."
"Jesus!" Bishop pushed her hair back, gripping the sides of her head more roughly than he intended but he needed to see her whole face, what doing that had done to her soul.
Her eyes were clear. There was no residue there, no new madness. She placed her hands on his, "Everyone who matters will know. It was the only way."
Relieved by what he saw, or didn't see there, he released her. "He would be proud of you," he murmured, clearing his throat.
"Are you?"
Bishop dropped his head, shaking it slowly before he raised his eyes again. "Dios, did he even know what he had in you?"
Her eyes shimmered with tears. She didn't know what to do with the lightness she felt. The years of anger for her husband's murder and the man who slandered his name to justify it were gone. Her burning need finally satisfied made everything she was feeling now magnify times ten.
Sensing it, Bishop held the back of her head tenderly, as if cradling a child's and brought her to him for a kiss. A soft meeting of lips that at first connection stunned them both. There was no movement or exploration yet it exposed the feelings that he had never let surface for his brother's old lady. The ones he didn't even acknowledge until after he passed and their shared grief kept them together. When he opened his eyes, he was stunned again by every word she had left unsaid mirroring back in hers.
Daring to test what he could see there, he breathed out an invitation. "Stay."
Her only response was to return her lips to his, pressing in. The chaste kiss turned fevered quickly. Hands that never dared to touch were fumbling to tear off clothes, demanding that nothing be between them anymore. There was no hesitation when she crawled up onto his lap and took what he had always wanted to give. The history that brought them back together brought a potent strength to the arms she held him with and a near violence to his movements beneath her. There on his couch, they no longer existed separately. They were two fused as one by the war they had endured together and now they had come for their reward. His panting heated her chest and hers his ear then giving in to it washing over her, she let her head fall back. In their union, free of guilt or consequence, she found elevated joy. She filled him with delight when with a startled laugh she came and she imprinted herself on his soul when she cried through coming again. Bishop ignored his own tears being wiped away, losing himself in her body’s demand for more, while he clung to her during his last moments before finally releasing his long-held unconsummated love inside of her. 
"Stay."
0.o.0.o.0
That morning, Bishop sat on his bike on the side of the dirt road, watching her familiar swinging ponytail disappear over the hill toward Vicky's. Lighting a cigarette, he sat watching the sunrise until the morning sky was fully lit and he couldn't see her anymore - until his phone sounded a notification of a text.
*Safe
That was all Vicky sent to confirm her arrival. Tossing the nearly finished cigarette out near the middle of the road where so many of his other butts had accumulated, he deleted the message and tucked his phone away. It took two tries to get the engine to turn over because his hands and his brain were disconnected. Slapping his hand down on the grip, he looked at the bullet now dangling from his wrist.
Rest easy, Marco…he thought and a smile curved his lips before he headed out, back to Santo Padre.
-fin-
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