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Could you maybe do something about being friends with Rue and is stuck with her in the same situation. You both left Laurie and are now working for Alamo and while working for him that's how you get with Bishop ? Eeeek if that makes sense please ty
i gave it some lesbianism
.˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ⋆.
the only one — Rue Bennett x Reader/Bishop x Reader
★
Living with Nazis wasn't something you expected to experience in your short, miserable, and pathetic life.
But Rue was your friend. You loved her, loved her like no other girl in the world. You met her after Laurie tracked her down after years of searching, owing her millions of dollars for a suitcase full of drugs—money she never paid back, money Laurie let slip by for ages, with that unwavering patience of hers.
Money came and went, but not this. It was $10,000 worth of drugs, meant for Rue, in her lazy and stupid way, to finally get high.
And you? Well, threats. Your father, an addict who had swindled Laurie, and when he was murdered, they took you in. You would do the work he hadn't. Laurie tried to be understanding, but Harvey wasn't as patient as she was. He was resentful, just like the other three members. Basically, it was four of you against the peaceful drug dealer.
So, yeah, you met Rue under strange and disgusting circumstances, as a mule, swallowing pellets of fentanyl, with an absurdly high risk of dying.
Because, just imagine it, a single bag of fentanyl, bursting inside you, all your organs starting to rot. It was better to shit yourself until you crossed the border, disgusting, but less embarrassing than looking like a pregnant woman with a stomach full of fentanyl.
But despite everything, Rue was always very kind, she was funny, you talked about stupid things, she talked about her ex-girlfriend, which made you feel a little resentment towards her, but Rue spoke of her as if she were an angel fallen from heaven, as a savior for her, which definitely made you feel sorry for her, seeing how her eyes lit up just at the mention of her name, or hearing that story over and over again about how her ex dumped her at the train station.
You were always there for her, doing drug deliveries, trips, everything. You were always together, because Rue was Rue. She needed supervision one way or another, she needed that support, to talk to a girl her own age. There was Faye, sure, but she was too busy flirting with that damn Nazi Wayne.
And Rue wouldn't say it out loud, but she'd developed a slight attraction to you. I mean, she was crazy about feminine, strong-willed girls, but above all, she loved boobs, and she'd seen them more than once. You were both women, and you'd never judge her for being a lesbian, so you didn't have a problem with her seeing you half-naked.
She remembered every mole, freckle, and mark on your torso, even the size of your breasts, the left one being slightly larger than the right, and she was dying to grab them and leave marks. But you weren't attracted to girls, what a shame.
Despite Rue's lustful desires, you never actually had that conversation, assuming Rue saw you as a friend, just as you saw her—a bond of friendship that left no room for romantic feelings.
One night, Wayne sent you to the outskirts of California, to the mansion of a certain Alamo Brown. He warned you not to screw things up, which made you sigh when Rue told you to come along. Just thinking about the name made you imagine a gangster, covered in rings and with prostitutes dancing for him.
“Don't be nervous, okay? It's just a matter of getting there and leaving.”
Rue was driving, with you in the passenger seat. Her hand moved to your thigh, giving it a gentle pat to ease the tension that was coursing through your body. You shrugged, the fanny pack full of drugs clutched in your hands, staring at the nearly deserted road, listening to the audiobook of the Bible that Rue had suddenly become obsessed with. You rolled your eyes as you smiled softly at her words.
“Yeah, I know, but Laurie never mentioned this guy before… I can’t help feeling a little nervous.”
Rue glanced at you and gently squeezed your thigh before moving her hand to the gearshift. The mansion that was coming into view caught her eye, and she sighed, getting closer and closer to the drop-off location.
Upon arriving, you both noticed the silhouette of a man standing in the parking lot. You muttered under your breath, staring at the man standing like a statue, waiting for them as if he'd been there for hours, making you incredibly nervous.
“You go out.”
You handed her the fanny pack, placing it on her lap. Rue looked at you, slightly nervous, cursing herself, glancing back as the garage door closed, trapping them both inside.
“Okay, let’s do this. Stay here.”
She got out of the car, fanny pack in hand, looking at the man standing in front of her. She handed it to him, and he opened it, looking at the contents. He glanced back at Rue, then at you, making you shrug and smile nervously.
But what seemed like a quick and easy exchange turned into a stomach-churning mess when Rue spoke to him, walking into the mansion without even looking at you. You swore and put a hand to your face.
“This weak bladder…”
You sighed, rubbing your eyes with one hand, looking back at the man in front of you, your gaze locked for what felt like an eternity, feeling sweat begin to form on your back, nerves and anxiety rising through your body.
As minutes, almost hours, passed, you saw that Rue wasn't coming back. You cursed under your breath, leaning your head back on the seat, putting your feet up and closing your eyes, trying not to think so much about time, about how long Rue was taking, about how nervous this whole situation was making you, how Laurie never mentioned Alamo…
You opened your eyes when the window softly rattled, looking out to see the same man with the afro standing in front of the car. You bit your lip before rolling down the window, leaning out and giving him a nervous smile.
“Get out of the car.”
You blinked repeatedly, glancing to the side, searching for Rue. When you didn't see her, you looked back at him.
“Where's Rue?”
“Don't make me repeat myself.”
You swallowed hard before opening the car door and getting out, closing it behind you. Instantly, the man grabbed your arm and made you groan, dragging you inside the mansion, up the stairs, almost pulling you through the hallways, until you reached Alamo's office.
Rue was there. She turned to look at you, biting her lower lip, then back at Alamo. They had made a deal: for taking one of his girls with that supposed fentanyl, Alamo would see if God trusted Rue, and if so, he would give her the chance to work at the strip club with him. Including you.
★
Rue went pale as the bullet struck the apple of her head. You couldn't see, even if you wanted to, standing next to Alamo, who grimaced, followed by Rue's nervous, almost psychedelic laughter. In your mind, you thought it would be better to be shot in the head than to keep carrying fentanyl pellets in your stomach.
But God had faith in you, accepted you, and led you down the same street as Alamo. Unfortunately for you, you had no intention of working at the club, but Alamo definitely had other plans for you.
“I don't think you need a boob job, but maybe a lip injection would do you good.”
And judging by the gold rosary you were wearing, Alamo decided to christen you Mary.
Stupid. Just plain stupid.
“Don't worry, the girls are going to teach you how to pole dance. It'll be easy for a malnourished girl like you.”
★
So… Yeah, right now, you'd be a dancer at the club, with Rue working as your assistant, cleaning, making sure the girls were happy and comfortable—easy.
But not for you.
You'd gotten your lips injected, and you felt like Faye at that moment—all that was missing was some fucking Nazi falling for you.
Luckily, there weren't any Nazis in sight.
You started to connect more with the girls at the club. Angel was surprisingly sweet when you arrived, teaching you everything you needed to know. But it wasn't the same with Magick. She gave you anxiety every time you heard her speak, though despite the disagreements they might have, you had faith they'd get along better.
And Rue? Well, she'd been living the dream life, almost. Breasts everywhere, surgically enhanced butts, girls flocking to her whenever they needed help or drugs. On the other hand, you could swear you saw chemistry between her and Angel; the way they looked at each other was mesmerizing to outsiders, though sometimes Rue seemed to be mesmerized by looking at you.
Rue had even told you how one night, after finishing her shift, she locked herself in Angel's car, moaning and clutching his hair in such desperation. She'd even shown you a small bite mark Angel had left on her thigh, and you laughed when Rue, in her own words, claimed she'd never had a pussy as delicious as Angel's in her life.
“You're disgusting.”
You laughed. You were both in the bathroom. Rue was helping you put on your lingerie. It seemed like a dream for her to see you half-naked every day, a blessing for her, assuming God was on the side of lesbians, because Rue couldn't stop biting her lip when you came out of the bathroom behind her, looking you up and down, cursing under her breath, unable to believe she had such a sexy girl nearby.
And she wasn't the only one who thought that.
Bishop had also become close to you, not because you wanted to, but because Alamo had sent you both on some errands. You weren't sleeping well at night, nor during the day, and you were surprised at how Bishop could keep up with Alamo's orders, how he did everything perfectly, even if he made faces while driving or gripped the steering wheel too tightly. He maintained his composure perfectly.
You were quite the chatterbox, even though you knew Bishop was tired of listening to you. You'd keep recounting all the overwhelming experiences you'd had with Laurie, what it was like living with an addicted dad, how you met Rue—all those things you had to tell during a car ride that lasted, at most, an hour, overwhelming your companion's peaceful mind.
“I mean… I'm over 20. When I was 15, I imagined myself as a wife with kids and a nice house… Maybe I'm not too far from that, but I think it'll take me years to meet a man who wants to be with me.”
Bishop didn't even look at you at that moment; he was just focused on the road, letting out a sigh.
“I agree.”
You frowned slightly, turning your head to look at him, letting out a soft laugh, and putting your feet up on the seat, knowing how much Bishop hated it when you put your feet up on the seat, even if you'd cleaned your shoes—unlike Rue's worn-out Converse.
Your relationship with Bishop was… peculiar. Even at the club, he kept a close eye on you. Assuming you were new, he must have been making sure you were doing your job properly, or that you weren't too foolish to ruin some service Alamo forced you to provide for clients. But even after months of working there, those glances continued, so much so that you were the first to look away, feeling that tension every time you were together.
“You never hooked up with any of the girls at the club? It's strange knowing that Kidd and G sleep with more than one dancer.”
Bishop pretended not to care, but he definitely felt uncomfortable hearing you talk about his colleagues having sex with the club's girls. He knew it, but he hadn't given it much thought. Even if Alamo slept with the girls more than once—in the bar of his mansion, in the office, in practically every corner—hearing it from someone else felt odd.
“I don't have time for that.”
You glanced at him and suppressed a smile, reaching for the car radio, turning on the music, and turning up the volume. “Ain’t No Love In The Heart Of The City” was playing. You leaned your head back in the seat when you heard Bishop’s thumb tapping on the steering wheel. Even though his face was still serious, he loved listening to music while driving. It was as if you’d read his mind.
“I like this song.”
You turned to face him, smiling. He glanced at you and suppressed a smile, hoping his seriousness would stay put.
“Who sings it?”
“Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland.”
Bishop's response was immediate, as if he'd been waiting for you to ask, making you laugh. You'd never seen Bishop so excited to talk about something like this before, even though his face still looked serious and expressionless, maintaining that serenity and air of disinterest.
“I've never heard of him.”
“You will.”
His free hand moved to the gearshift, slightly accelerating. They weren't really in a hurry, but you had to be at the club in an hour, so for Bishop, being on time meant 10 minutes early.
“So... you don't like any of the girls at the club?”
“I never said that.”
“So you do like someone.”
“And you?”
“Rue's the lesbian, not me.”
Bishop stifled a laugh, glancing to the side. You laughed in response, biting your lower lip and shaking your head between soft chuckles.
“So, what do you like?”
You thought for a moment. You didn't really have a specific type, but you'd be lying if you didn't say that no one at the club attracted you physically, even Kidd, though he was the last person on your mind. Then you said…
“What if I say I like you?”
Bishop didn't answer right away. He considered the answer for a moment, then gently turned his head to look at you. His eyes darted up and down, his lips pressed together, and he looked straight ahead again, letting out a sigh.
“I'd be flattered.”
And the last thing you knew, Bishop pulled over to the side of the road. “A quickie,” he said. “Just the tip,” he said…
The car shook, both of you in the back seat, missionary position, your hands on the fogged-up window. It was June, with the heavy California heat; the car was almost unbearable. But with Bishop completely inside you, your walls tightening around him, deliberately around his dick, so swollen with anticipation, his hips moving so desperately against yours, panting and moaning against your neck.
“I’m close…”
Your nails tugged at his unbuttoned shirt, feeling his hands grip your waist tightly, his hand sliding down to your hip, squeezing your skin so hard it made you shudder. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling Bishop all the way in, rubbing his hips against yours, so close to orgasm that his eyes rolled back.
But before he finished, he pulled his dick out of you, almost clumsily climbing on top of you. The space in a Dodge Charger was limited, especially because of the model Bishop had. Even so, his hips pressed against your face, masturbating in your face. Bishop was mesmerized by your lips, fuller than when he first met you, your tongue licking his balls with moans, gripping his hips to keep him close, feeling his hand move to your needy, tearful cunt, caressing your clit, making your legs tremble so much you could barely think.
The first spurts of cum escaped from his dick, staining your face and the car window. He groaned softly, throwing your head back, moving his hand from his dick to your hair, forcing you to keep licking his balls, holding back his orgasm.
Your pussy responded to his fingers, cumming on them, lifting your hips and squeezing your thighs tightly to contain your orgasm, so loud that you moaned so loudly you swore the passing cars could hear you.
When he finished, Bishop settled into the seat next to you, panting, placing your legs on his lap, caressing them to calm the tremors and agitations of your body. You were panting and sighing as if you had run a marathon, gently opening your eyes, wiping the cum from your forehead and bringing it to your lips, looking at Bishop with flushed cheeks.
“We’ll be late.”
Even with those words, Bishop didn't bother to get dressed or adjust himself, nor did he stop stroking your legs.
“Yeah... I'll stay here, sit up front.”
You settled gently into the seat, sitting down and putting on your clothes. At that moment, Bishop realized how much he would miss seeing your titties. Although he saw them every night, he didn't know when the next time he would suck on them would be.
★
“So, you hooked up in his car.”
Rue said, sitting on the sink in the women's restroom, while you were in one of the stalls, flushing and leaving, standing next to her, washing your hands, and glancing at you with a smirk.
You had told her, not that it was specifically Bishop, but that you had an encounter with someone. She assumed it was a client who was going to pay you extra or a temporary boyfriend.
“Yeah, it was… It was pretty good.”
Rue nodded at your words, looking to the side, ignoring the fact that she was getting a little jealous, even though days before she herself had slept with Angel, telling you all about it in detail.
When she turned to look at you, she saw that your thong was a little messy, so she got up from the sink and moved her hands to your hips to straighten the straps. You didn't say anything, because that was Rue's job, to make sure the girls looked good.
“Did he eat your pussy?”
You splashed your hands to get rid of the excess water, glancing at Rue in the mirror's reflection, frowning slightly. You turned your head to look at her, noticing that her hands were still on your hips.
“Why do you want to know?”
You laughed, turning around and leaning against the sink, facing Rue, looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a small smile on your face.
“It was just a quickie.”
You said, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror, examining your face, picking up the lipstick you'd left there. You had your own dressing room with the other girls, sure, but you always made time to be alone with Rue. This job had created a bit of distance between you, leaving you barely able to talk.
“And did you enjoy it?”
Rue's hands returned to your hips, resting her chin on your shoulder, her thumbs caressing your skin, making you shiver slightly, still watching her in the mirror's reflection.
“I think he enjoyed me.”
“I would have loved to be there.”
“Watching us? Like a voyeur?”
“No… I would have liked to have you.”
Your laughter faded slightly, lowering both hands and placing them against the sink, looking down, watching her thumbs gently squeeze your hip, making you sigh.
“But I've never been with a girl.”
“I can be the first.”
You sighed as Rue began kissing your shoulders, her fingers playing with the straps of your thong, gently pulling it down, waiting for you to stop her, but instead, you parted your legs so Rue could remove it completely. Rue smiled and pulled your thong all the way down, parting your left buttock with one hand, while her fingers moved around your wet slit, moaning against your ear, suddenly inserting two fingers into your cunt without any warning, making you moan, placing your hands on the mirror, leaning forward, closing your eyes as you moaned.
“You’re so wet…”
Rue crouched behind you, her mouth moving softly with kisses down your lower back, reaching your ass, her tongue tracing the tight ring, still sliding her fingers in and out of you, making you tremble. You pressed your cheek against the mirror, almost sitting on the sink, covering your mouth with one hand, hoping no one would come in now.
“R-Rue… Hurry.”
You didn’t know why you didn’t stop her; you just felt her tongue slide down your ass, to your pussy, licking the entrance. Both hands were on your ass, squeezing and playing with it, gently pulling away, standing up, one hand behind you, sliding her fingers back in, while the other gripped your hair, pulling you closer. She pressed her chest against your back, thrusting her fingers in and out of your pussy quickly. It was impossible to hide your sharp moans anymore, escaping with every movement of her fingers as they touched that specific spot inside you.
“I-I’m gonna cum…”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Yeah…”
Rue left her fingers deep inside you, moving them and being squeezed by your walls, commanding them to stay there, deep inside, until your womb felt it needed that release. You came on Rue’s fingers the same way you had with Bishop’s, panting, your hands still on the mirror, watching yourself as you moaned and seeing Rue’s face almost sweaty and flushed, moving her fingers gently to delay your orgasm as long as possible.
★
You both left the bathroom, Rue behind you. You went back to your dressing room as you watched Rue walk away toward the bar where Bishop was, catching his attention, following her with his eyes, which made Rue stop beside him, leaning on the table next to him.
“Alamo was looking for you.”
Rue grimaced, swallowing hard and running a hand over her lips, glancing to the side as she watched you approach one of your regulars, chatting with him with that natural flirtatiousness of yours, smiling, the lip gloss giving your lips that juicy touch, and that smile of yours so sweet and lustful at the same time.
“I’ve been… busy.”
Bishop met your gaze, then looked at Rue, who was smiling at you, and that’s when Bishop understood. He wasn’t the only one. But perhaps, he had been the first.
“Where’s Alamo?”
“Your breath reeks of pussy. Get yourself a drink.”
Bishop placed two twenty-dollar bills on the table, walking away, leaving Rue alone, frowning, raising her hand to her mouth, exhaling her breath and smelling it, letting out a soft sigh, turning to order a drink from the bartender, handing him the bills Bishop had given her.
She should be more discreet next time.
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a/n: esto debe tener unos errores ortográficos catastróficos pero ya fue. me gustó escribir esto
Can you recreate the car scene with Maddy and bishop in his car with his dog in the back? And instead of bishop going to the club he takes us back to his house
Scene changed lives…🚬
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆who’s gonna drive you home? bishop x f!reader
| bishop x f!reader | notes: it was gonna be a drabble but the horniness took over.. | warnings: not proofread, smut, friends with benefits, unprotected sex, shower sex, throat fucking, male receiving, light choking, light fluff,etc. | mdni18+ | wc: 1k |
The club you were in was getting louder as you breathed. Celebrating your friend’s birthday party on a L.A summer night was definitely a choice.
“You can’t leave now!” Your friend, kindly, yelled at your face due to the packed dance floor and being near the DJ’s booth.
“I have to! My friend’s going to be here in like 2 minutes!” You yell back. Your friend being Bishop. Bishop being a fuck buddy you had for a while.
Bishop always came and disappeared on your life. You didn’t mind, you also had a busy life, it was a ‘casual’ thing. But Tuesday, your car had been towed leaving you with no transport, you had texted Bishop if he was available for the weekend. He said yes.
Walking out the club in your short black tube dress and silver heels, you saw Bishop’s recognizable car. A light blush creeps on your cheeks as you made your way to him. Getting in, you finally connect your eyes with him. “Long time no see.” He said in a low tone. You were in the moment for so long just looking at him and taking it all in. And then you started hearing some hesitated breathing, and it wasn’t you or Bishop.
“Bishop, who’s dog is this?” You burst into laughter looking at the back of the car to be met with a white fluffy poodle. “It’s mine.” He replies, starting to drive. You couldn’t stop giggling, going to pet the head of Bishop’s new dog. “You got yourself a girlfriend? I’m offended, B. Always thought it was going to be you and me.” You joke, looking back at him.
Bishop looks back at you, a little smile followed with an eye roll. “It’s a boy.” He says, earning a hum of approval from you. Bishop was wearing a dark brown coat with a dark purple button up. You loved that. “What were you doing?” You ask, taking off your heels. “Work.” His car stops at a red light, finally getting a good look at you. “Nice dress.” He mumbles, making you smirk.
“You wanna take it off to look at it better?” You whisper, pushing your feet to his lap. He looks down at your manicured nails, grabbing one and softly massaging. You make your other foot massage his groin softly. “You’re trouble you know that?” You shrug, “You expect me to believe you’re taking me to my home?”
And that’s how Bishop ended on the driveway of his own house, grabbing his dog, Snowflakes, your heels on his other hand, making his way inside. His house was not an unknown place to you. Multiple times you’d have been over at his house, it was practically your second home. As soon as Snowflakes got on the floor, he went towards you to smell your feet, making you giggle.
“I see I have competition.” Bishop gets your attention, seeing how you had crotched down to pet Snowflakes. “You’re so insecure.” You joke, looking up at his tall figure. He leans down to pet his dog with you, “Did you shower yet?” He asked you, answering him by shaking your head. “I’ll prepare the bathroom then.” He stands up, making his way to the bathroom.
After some minutes of petting, Snowflake, you make your way to the bathroom, hearing the water run. Bishop walks out, his coat in hand. “All set.” He says. You just smile at him. “Did you shower yet?” Bishop gives you a quick up and down look, “No.”
“You don’t wanna join me?”
And that’s how you then ended up in the shower with Bishop, on your knees having your mouth fucked by his huge cock. You would gag around him each time he pushed himself to the back of your throat, a light moan coming out of you. “You love this don’t you? Taking me all?” Bishop groans, a hand placed on top of your head. Somehow you nod, pushing him back by holding his hips, you start sucking him off with such passion, it made Bishop grip his hold on you.
“Good girl…good girl baby— show me why you wanted me to actually pick you up.” Bishop groans, starting to guide your movements. Blowing Bishop went on until he made you pull out, having you gasp for air. He grabs your arm to stand you up, face to face, the two of you interlock lips. You didn’t notice he had hooked your leg around him, you gasp when you felt his head pushing inside of you.
“Bishop” You moan, looking down to see how he slowly made his way inside of you. It had been so long (2 weeks) since you last had sex with Bishop, you could never get used to the long stretch he gave you. “You could’ve stayed longer at that party.” He mumbles, “Could’ve even left with some other guy.” He was fully inside of you, thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace.
You breathed hard, feeling Bishop’s grip on your hips and the soft kisses being left on your neck. “Just want you.” You whimper. Bishop’s thrusts quickened, breathy moans and skin slapping echoing through the bathroom. “Just me? I’m all you want?” You nod, carving your nails to his biceps, “You, baby. Just you.” He groans, pulling out to push you against the tile. “Arch your back.”
What Bishop says goes, you arch your back, to put a little show for him you bring your hands to your butt to spread your cheeks, showing him what’s his. “Yours, baby. Take it.” You whisper. And he does, pushing himself inside of you and creating a quick pace. You were a moaning mess, quick whines leaving each time Bishop hit that gummy spot inside of you.
Bishop had pressed his body against yours, groaning into your neck, and having one of his hands softly wrapped around your neck. “So desperate, can feel it in your pussy.” He makes his hand go down your clit, making quick circles. “Are you gonna cum, princess? Gonna cum on this dick?” You moan leaning your head against his shoulder, “Yes…yes, yes Bishop don’t stop— please don’t stop.” You whine, pushing yourself back to meet his thrusts. “Do it, baby, do it.”
You cum, your legs shaking against his, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. Bishop didn’t slow his thrusts, instead he brought his hands to your waist, leaving hard thrusts inside of you. With little strength you push your hand to his lower abdomen, trying to make him slow down. But Bishop can’t bring himself to do so, not with how wet your cunt was accepting him, the way your butt bounced with each thrust, all while water was falling from the shower head, making your wet body look even more desirable than what it is.
“I’m gonna cum.” He moans, losing his rhythm he brought you to his mouth, kissing you. “Cum, please, cum.” You whimper through the kisses. After a few more thrusts, Bishop pulls up and strokes his dick on top of your butt. You shiver feeling the hot cum land on you. Heavy breaths, you turn to face Bishop, “Can I—” “Yes.” Bishop answers your question before you can finish it. “You can stay.”
And that’s how you, Bishop and Snowflake ended in the couch, eating ice cream while watching a movie. “I didn’t even know you wanted a dog.” You say taking a scoop of your ice cream, “I don’t know why I thought you were allergic to dogs.” He turns to you, feeling offended at your statement. “Not allergic, I love animals.” You smile, putting your empty bowl on the table and lean against Bishop. “I know, you love big.” You mumble, feeling the sleepiness kick in. He looks down at you, then at Snowflake who was also dozing off.
Bishop didn’t always have free nights, but by miracle he had Wednesday free. Which is why you invited him over for a sleepover. He wasn’t expecting to be on your bed watching a reality love show that was almost two hours long.
“This is ridiculous. I’d even prefer to watch the game than this.” He was resting against your pillows, lightly caressing your leg since you were laying at the end of the bed on your stomach, facing your TV. His comment made you turn to face him, “You don’t even watch basketball.” He just shrugged, looking back at the screen.
Even though he wasn’t interested, you still broke it down for him, the contestants, bombshells, the challenges, he didn’t ask any questions just kept humming to let you know he was listening.
It was then in a challenge a very plot twisting love betrayal occurred right in front of your eyes, making you gasp loudly. Bishop had gripped your leg, but then you realized, Bishop gripped your leg. Still in shock, you turn to him, also holding a shocked expression, not as expressive as yours, but enough to let you know that he was watching, and paying attention, and most importantly, invested.
You laugh, “You’re watching!” “I am not.” Bishop furrows his brows. You just continue laughing going to him to hug his side. “You are! Oh my God, you’re enjoying this.” “Don’t think that I’m watching this with you everyday now.” He grumbles. But you knows Bishop, not wanting to bother him no more, you just gave him a quick kiss and continued the show.
After finishing the episode, you were on your phone texting your friends, Bishop fast asleep with his arm on top of you. “I still can’t believe they let that happen.” Bishop mumbles in his sleep, referring to one of the many events that happened on tonight’s episode. Smiling, you move your hand to caress his neck.
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you knew it was probably wrong, you shouldn’t have followed him into the silver slipper bathroom. the club was packed, alamo already had a stick up his ass and bishop was kind of like your boss but god; he felt so good inside of you. balls deep, hands grabbing your hips as you watched in the reflection of the mirror in front of you.
it had started off as glances here and there, you would look up from behind the bar and catch him staring at you, then you’d try and make some conversation with him; his voice monotone but he holds the conversation. then while handing him a drink you made him your hands touch, and linger for a second too long.
even though it was 3am and last call was an hour ago, drinks kept pouring, music blasting as the girls danced on stage; money flying. it was the friday nights like these at the club you could make half your rent in one night making drinks. it should’ve been over and patrons should’ve gone home along time ago but everyone was having too much fun to notice and alamo was making too much money to care.
“don’t make it obvious but, your stalkers looking.” your co worker giggled, as she cracked open a few beers. “he’s not my stalker-here you go.” you smile and hand the older man his jack and coke, thanking him as he threw a 10 in your tip jar. as he leaves you can get a good look at bishop; sitting at the round table with his colleagues, his button up freshly steamed it seems and a tie with a nice pattern sitting nicely on his chest.
he is looking at you and you take a second to look back, offering a small smile and he nods to you.
“whatever you say honey.” she chuckles. you two work in rhythm for a bit longer and you occasionally glance to bishop. on your last glance he gets up, maintaining eye contact so hard you’re sure he’s gonna come over and talk to you but inside he heads towards the bathrooms, eyes locked with yours the whole time; he stops at the family style bathroom, nodding at you before opening the door and slipping in.
“hey, I’ll be right back. I think I ate something bad.” you tell your co worker; grabbing your tip jar and tucking it under the bar, unsure how long you’ll be gone or if it even meant anything at all. without waiting for a response you set off, butterflies erupting in your tummy, heart pounding. as you approach the door you see its green, unlocked.
surely he wouldn’t leave it unlocked if he hadn’t wanted you to come in, but still you knock softly just in case. the door opens, bishop standing inside; he steps back, allowing space for you to come inside. you feel a lot of things at once, fear that alamo will be mad you abandoned the bar, nervous about what’s possibly happening with bishop but a bit excited for what could come. what you don’t expect is the awkwardness you feel as he turns to face you, he doesn’t saying anything he just looks at you for a minute.
he takes a few steps towards you, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come in or not.” you’re quick to confess, nervous under his gaze. he tangles his hands in your curly hair from the root by the back of your neck. “i don’t think you know how bad I want you.” his turn to confess as he pulls your bodies closer; he smells so good like expensive cologne. you stare up at him as he towers over you, and you close your eyes as his leans down. you stand on your tippy toes to try and meet him halfway.
it’s soft kisses at first, a few pecks but it steadily turns into tongue kissing, lip sucking as his other hand reaches down to grab a handful of your ass and your arms wrap around his neck. your tongues are sticking out of your mouths, swirling around each others before you close our mouths around each other; almost like your trying to swallow each other whole. you latch onto his bottom lip, biting it and pulling it towards you before letting go.
you stare into his eyes for a second, feeling his dick hardening against your tummy through this pants. you allow one of your hands to slide down his chest before grabbing his dick. his face still looks the same as always and his voice still monotone as he tells you, “get on your knees.” but something about him as you dripping in your panties.
you fall to your knees in front of him and he looks down at you while unbuckling his belt; he doesn’t take it off and he pulls his pants and boxers down to his knees.
you can’t help but gasp as you look up at him; it’s intimidatingly big, so heavy even though he’s fully hard it’s weighing itself down; so long even though he’s a foot away it’s practically in your face.
“can you handle it?” he asks making a mischievous smile appear on your face snapping you back. you grab him by the tip, holding the weight of it up as you lick from his balls, to the base, all the way to the tippy top before popping the tip between your plump lips. the sounds are vulgar as you take more of him into your mouth, using your two hands to help jerk off what you can’t find in your mouth. “just like that.” he breaths, his voice almost has a pitch to it, encouraging you to keep going. you try and take more of him down your throat, gagging as drool begins to from on your lip. he grabs your head, holding you still as he softly thrusts the inches of him that you’ve already proven you can take down your throat. drool drips down your chin as he fucks your mouth; pulling pack and letting go when you gag a bit too loud. still, you don’t let it discourage you as you wrap your hands back around and keep sucking. he lets out a quiet groan accompanied with a fuck as he steps back, pulling his dick away from you.
“what’s wrong? is it not good?” you pout, wiping your lips with your wrist. “I don’t want to nut yet.” he simply states before helping you off your knees. you gasp as he picks you up and places you on the sink, feeling his wet dick on your inner thigh. he leans forward, kissing you as he reaches under your black mini skirt, pulling your panties off; placing them on the faucet behind you.
“I bet you taste like candy.” he says before leaning down, scooting your butt towards the end of the sink as you lean back against the mirror. your legs spreads as he head falls between them, you feel and hear him take a deep inhale; smelling your wet pussy before humming in approval. he kisses your wet inner thighs, before kissing all around your pussy then finally, licking a stripe up your slit. you moan as his tongue dances on your clit, hands gripping the sink for stability. your cry out as he latches onto your clit, sucking it like a lollipop. “fuck, bishop baby you’re making me feel so fucking good.” you cry as your thighs close around his head; caging him in, “don’t stop baby you’re gonna make me cum.” you can see his arm moving up and down, to jerk himself off and his face is concentrated as he tongue fucks you. “oh my god.” you cry as you cum all over his face, orgasming harder than you’re sure you ever have before, legs shaking and sore.
you feel tired for a moment, almost wanting to tap out as he licks you clean but when he stands up and you see his beard covered in you, his dick harder than before it wakes something up in you. grabbing him by his tie you pull him in close, kissing him, tonguing each other as you taste yourselves on one another. you guys pull apart when you both feel his dick twitch against you, you look up into his eyes and maintain eye contact as you grab his cock, pulling it towards your warm, wet pussy that’s begging for him. you both break eye contact and gasp as the tip slips in, both looking down at where you two now connect. he slowly slips it in, inch by inch; making you feel the whole thing.
his head tucks into your neck as you two hold each other for a second, letting you get used to him. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” he whispers, biting your ear lobe before slowly staring to thrust into you. “shit baby.” you whine, feeling him deep in you. his thrust gradually speed up before he’s marking his words, pounding into so hard you’re sure you’ll break the sink, you moans and cries drowned out by the music and his soft grunts drowned out by you. “you’re so big, baby, fuck, harder.” you cry lifting up your shirt above your chest and pulling your bra down enough to let your tits out, which bishop immediately latches onto, sucking your tits and fucking you like his life depended on it. you throw your head back, hitting it against the mirror as you spread your legs more to give him more room; desperate for every inch he has to offer.
your hands grip his hair as you watch him lick your right nipple before moving to the left one, sucking it into his mouth. you cry and beg as he detaches from your nipple and slowly pulls out, “please baby.” you cry; attempting to reach from his wet dick to stuff it back inside of your before he grabs your hips, “c’mere.” he pulls you off the sink, roughly turning you around and bending you over. he uses his knee to push your legs apart before smacking your ass, watching it jiggle as your skirt bunches around your waist. he spreads your ass cheeks apart, effectively giving him the perfect view of everything, fat ass on display, pretty untouched asshole, wet dripping pussy. you look at his face in the mirror; he’s so focused on your pussy and ass he doesn’t even notice you looking at him.
you gasp as you watch him spit, feeling it land on your asshole and dripping all the way down to your needy hole. you reach under you, trying to grab him to put inside you but in return you get bishop grabbing both of you wrist and holding them behind your back. “you gotta behave.” is all he says, before grabbing himself and sliding inside of you. your eyes roll back at this new angle, you can feel him even deeper than before. his hand that’s not restraining you grabbing your hip for support as he pounds into you.
“are you gonna be good if I let your hands go?” he teases, looking at your puffy face in the mirror. “yes, baby I promise I’ll be good.” you moan. he lets go and you immediately grab onto the sides of the sink; needing extra support. both of his hands are now on your hips using them to help bounce you on him. “pussy so tight.” he grunts, sweat beading at his forehead. “c’mere, lemme see.” he places one hand in your hair and the other on your neck, pulling you up so your backs on his chest. you moan as he softly chokes you, shaking your head a bit as he pulls your hair before letting go of it, you watch in the mirror as he licks his finger, bringing it down to your left nipple, rubbing circles on it.
“play with yourself.” he demands, his hand holding your throat a bit tighter, still fondling your your tits. you lick two of your fingers before reaching between your legs, playing with you pussy for him, your other hand reaching and grabbing the back of his head, and turning your head, touching your foreheads together. you peck his lips before getting one in return; your sweet, soft kisses not matching the raunchy acts you guys are doing in your works bathroom.
“I’m gonna cum, baby.” you warn, as he pinches your nipple. “i am too, baby.” although you had been calling him baby all night, hearing it from his mouth sounded surreal. you feel it in the pit of you belly, “don’t stop, oh my god, I’m gonna cum again.” you throw your head back and let go. a loud moan erupting from your chest as wetness drips down your legs. “I’m gonna bust.” he groans, helping you ride out your high. you both moan, staring into each others eyes as you feel it his hot sticky honey filling you up, threatening to spill down your leg before he can even pull out. you both stand there for a minute, the only movement is him softly rubbing your nipple.
“that was the best ever.” you sigh; not wanting him out of you ever again. “we can do it again, whenever you’d like.” he offers, trying to slid out of you but your hips follow his dick that’s softening inside of you. “gotta let me out, sweetheart. you gotta finish closing.” he says, snapping you back to reality. shit, how long had you been gone for.
reluctantly you let him slide out, even though you’re empty you can still feel him inside you. you turn to face him as he’s pulling his pants up, you reach up, and he swears he’s never seen you more beautiful before as he looks at you. swollen lips, tired eyes, red cheeks, messy curls everywhere as you lean up to kiss him. his hands come down, rubbing and squeezing your bare ass, “wanna spend the night at my house?” he offers, making you smile and nod, putting your face in his neck; inhaling his scent like a dog who missed their owner. he pulls your bra up and shirt down before backing away from you for a second to grab some toilet paper, cleaning the cum that had dripped down your leg, and wiping your pussy off, making you whine due to being so sensitive.
“I’ll find you after closing and you can ride with me.” he plans, giving your ass a final pat before pulling your skirt down. “do you think anyone noticed we were gone?” you play with your hair in an attempt to fix it. “yes but they won’t care.” he simply states, “alamo won’t be mad I was gone for so long?” you worry, he had already chewed you out for being late last weekend. “don’t worry about him, okay?” he leans down; pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
when you both emerge from the bathroom, it was apparent the party was dying, about 15 patrons remained and two girls were left on the stage. you locked eyes with alamo and the other men at his table for a second smug looks on all their faces.
“pay them no mind, I’ll see you after your shift.” bishop reassures, nodding for you to go to the bar.
you both go your separate ways and you’re greeted with another annoyingly smug face; your co worker. “have fun?” she giggles. “whatever.” you shake your head, trying to hide your smile.
“was it big?” she whispers, “girl, do you work.” you laugh, looking up to see bishop already eyeing you again as the men around his table laugh about you can only guess what.
Even when Alamo didn't take things seriously, Bishop did.
After all, he was the head of everything, the one who ran things, gave orders, handled the drugs, the girls, and the guns. Everything.
So, yes, Bishop was Alamo in essence, but he liked to keep a low profile, and also to surprise people. It wasn't easy to go unnoticed, though. If someone was paying very, very close attention, he was always caught looking at something suspicious, even if it was just out of the corner of his eye. He was always caught, but he wasn't the first to look away.
Despite his leadership, Bishop hated the idea of killing or causing harm. He only did it when the situation was out of control, when he had no other choice. He wasn't a religious man, but he prayed and asked God for forgiveness for the sins he committed, even if he knew he wouldn't receive it.
And the club? Well, he let Alamo make the decisions there, which girl he wanted to sleep with after work and which he didn't, but Bishop stayed close to some of them, asking them to look out for each other, to support each other, and not to fight.
But when new girls arrived, he evaluated them, examined their faces, how their lips looked, their eyes, how their teeth looked when they smiled, how they walked, how their nails were, the size of their breasts and their asses. Everything. He made a long mental list and advised Alamo on which ones should stay and which ones shouldn't.
It was exhausting being someone like him. Exhausting having to organize everything, getting home in the wee hours of the morning and barely being able to sleep, because he had to wake up half an hour later to continue with that damn job.
But at least he could relieve his stress with his girlfriend.
His beautiful and sexy girlfriend.
You knelt before him as he sank onto the sofa with a low sigh, letting his body relax and close his eyes for at least a few seconds.
You knew what time he'd arrive, what mood he'd be in, and how to calm him down. And of course, you had to look beautiful for your boyfriend.
You wore one of his shirts, completely unbuttoned, revealing your lacy underwear, the fabric barely covering your breasts. Your hair was loose, though you usually wore it up; he'd get hard just watching it fall over your face, covering one eye.
His hand moved down to your hair, caressing it, then up to your cheek. You smiled and turned your head to place a kiss on his palm, kisses that traveled up to his wrist.
“Did you miss me, doll?”
He whispered as your cheek rested against his thigh, your eyes shining and filled with a longing you couldn't satisfy on your own.
You and Bishop had sex, but it was rare, and when you did, the bed would break or the headboard would bang against the wall, leaving marks. It was lucky you didn't have neighbors to hear, because it would be exhausting to hear you screaming your boyfriend's name until you were practically crying with pleasure, or the sound of the spanking echoing through the walls and reaching the front door. Even when Bishop was usually quiet, his grunts would drown out your screams.
But yes, you hadn't had sex lately, and he was under a lot of stress.
“I missed you so much.”
Bishop seemed to suppress a smile when you spoke to him like that, seeing your flushed cheeks and your eyes pleading for more of his caresses and words. Those loving nicknames he used for you made you incredibly wet.
“Yeah, baby?”
His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling your face to his, kissing you slowly, but with a hunger that left no doubt he desired you desperately at that very moment, that he could take you and make love to you for as long as he wanted. But you also had your needs and wanted to soothe your boyfriend's anxiety and worries.
“A lot…”
And no matter how much he tried to hold back, that voice of yours made it impossible for him to resist.
For the next 10 minutes, your lips were surrounded by his thick, long cock, hitting the back of your throat, with the obscene sounds of it, your gagging and moans, and of course, his grunts, which were essential to the whole scene.
Bishop discarded his coat, unbuttoning his perfectly pressed shirt, his torso bare, beads of pearly sweat glistening on his dark skin.
He grasped your hair, smoothing it, brushing away the strands that fell across your face, using that grip to guide your movements, taking it deeper and deeper, in sync with the movements of his hips, pressing your nose against his pelvis, the pubic hair he'd shaved a few weeks ago tickling your nose.
The gagging and scratches on his thighs weren't unusual; in fact, Bishop really enjoyed it when your nails left scratches on his thighs. He knew how much it excited you to be used this way, begging for mercy with the gagging and scratches. Even when your eyes looked at him, filled with unshed tears, he would tilt his head back and mutter curses under his breath, biting his lower lip.
You loved feeling his body tremble. You knew that was when he was close to coming. You loved it when he did, because he would curse and moan in a way that left your cunt soaking wet, so much so that afterward he would tease you for getting you so wet just from giving him a blowjob, but you barely cared.
“I’m gonna cum soon, doll…”
He said between breaths, looking back at you, still lifting your hips so you could take him completely, moving your head up and down, listening to his breathing become heavier, more desperate, more urgent, more…
You felt him tense up, plunging his cock fully into your mouth, hitting your throat, releasing his seed, going straight to your stomach, taking it all, like a good girl.
Bishop gasped, growling softly, letting go of your hair, his hands resting at his sides on the sofa, his eyes closed. You recovered quickly, lifting your head and releasing his semi-flaccid cock from your mouth with a moan, cleaning your lips with your tongue, completely wet and lubricated by your saliva and your boyfriend’s fluids combined.
“You did great, doll… Now come up here and give me a goodnight kiss.”
You smiled at him with those swollen lips, red cheeks, and teary eyes—that silly grin you wore when he flattered you and gave you another order.
You immediately stood up, sitting on top of him, finding his lips, letting him taste himself in your mouth, moaning and biting your lower lip, moving his hips upward, feeling how wet your underwear was with his cock.
“You got wet just from sucking me off, baby?”
And of course, his teasing came, sooner or later, it always did.
.˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ⋆.
a/n: vieron esa teoría que decía que Bishop en realidad era Alamo? use esa teoría como inspo (ponele). está vez escuché labrinth mientras escribía.
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Bishop would never say it out loud. But you would. The two of you were getting closer.
After he dropped you off, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You still weren’t sure if getting to know Bishop would lead to you feeling a proper protection where you worked or a relationship with a man you would never imagine developing feelings for.
Bishop didn’t want to overthink anything, he overstepped a line he shouldn’t have even touched in the beginning. You were very nice and kind as a person, never put up a fight unlike Angel or insurance troubles like Magick. To him, you were perfect. You were the last thing he would see before going to sleep and the first thing he thought of when he woke up. It’s like you were a drug to him, he knew he shouldn’t keep doing it, but he did, it made him feel good.
Some weeks passed where you would do things differently. You started to pay attention the days Bishop would come to the club, with Alamo or alone. You bought brand new lingerie, two pieces and bikinis in all colors and designs. Three new heels and an ankle bracelet Tish gave you because it wasn’t her style. When you would perform you made sure you did everything correct, not a single mistake. You were flirtier with the customers, nicer with the bartenders, overall you were going for employee of the month.
Bishop could’ve cared less, at least he wanted to.
He was growing impatient; you were driving him crazy. He would subtly see your performances in the club, looking away if you made eye contact. He would also see the men that asked you for dances on the booths, feeling his heartbeat faster when they would grope your tits and waist, made you move how they would want to as if you were a toy. He hated it when they spanked you when you walked by, all the time. Seeing those hands grab the fat of your butt just filled him with rage. But it’s not like he couldn’t do something about it. You weren’t his. At least not yet.
꧂
Thursday afternoon, Bishop was at Alamo’s mansion in his usual corner while he had a meeting with Big Eddy, G in a corner counting some money. “Honestly this a real good line up of girls we’ve had in a while.” Alamo’s desk was splattered with photos of the dancers from Silver Slipper, including you. “This one a real winner.” Alamo raised your photo, a picture of you smiling with an orange bikini, facing it to Bishop, “I bet this bunny loves to bounce bounce bounce!” Alamo erupted with laughter.
Fucking pig, Bishop thought to himself.
“She’s been good, I’ve had guys tell me they’d pay the double to get a section with her.” Big Eddy talked while taking some notes. “Bishop suggested to have her do more dances with the snake, maybe by the end of the month.” Alamo answered taping a photo of Tish. “She need a boob job.” He muttered.
“Should check if she’d be good doing a private, like a test run.” G spoke up, “And why the fuck would I do that?” Alamo asked, thrown off at G’s request. “Listen, I’m not gonna throw none of the girls under the bus, but some of these hoes just don’t got the love in when it comes to doing private dances. No coordination, no charisma...Magick is the less that gets asked that’s all I’m going to say.” G responded, his last sentence being the quickest to push out. “I won’t mind checking on Bunny tonight.” Alamo chuckled, “I’ll check on her real good.”
Bishop really didn’t want to interfere, he wanted to promise himself that you were nothing but another dancer. It was known that Alamo would take advantage of these women, he was practically a pimp. But the back of Bishop’s head kept telling himself that you were different, you were worth something.
“You’ve said that with each dancer, you only end up fucking them.” Bishop said with that monotone voice of his, making the three men look to him, Alamo visually angry. “And what the fuck do you want to mean by that?” “We test the girls for the public, not for us. Not every man that comes in the club is coming for a fuck, some just simply want a private dance.”
And everyone knew Bishop’s point was right. Alamo would do it based off his own personal interests, not for the public, which is why G suggested to really test the girls out. Alamo grunted, not having a comeback or an excuse for Bishop’s observation. “Let’s have her do a private with you then.” Alamo faced to G, who started laughing at Alamo’s demand.
“Nahh— have Bishop do it, she’s got a little crush on him.” Bishop’s heart dropped, looking directly at G, “Does not.” “Does too! She always bats her eyes in such a way, changes the tone of her voice, she’ll be like— Hello Bishop, how you doing?” G mimicked you, having Alamo and Big Eddy laugh with him.
“Bunny with a little crush, she’s adorable.” Big Eddy said wiping a tear out his eye. “I don’t wish to receive a private dance from Lola.” Bishop replied, he knew it wouldn’t be the right thing to do, especially when he’s trying to push down the emotions, he’s had building up for you. “It was your idea, B. Put it to the test, or we can go back my way.” Alamo responded, standing up fixing his attires.
“Make Tish, get earlier than usual to talk about driving her for a boob job, and tell Lola Bunny she’s doing a private dance.” Alamo assigned Big Eddy while making his way out, “Bishop, call that bitch Laurie to do some orders for a party I’m planning soon.” Alamo added before heading out. Bishop took a deep sigh, glaring at G who was still quietly giggling, then looking to Eddy, who held your picture towards him. “10:30, be there or be square.”
꧂
“Could it be his birthday?” “That man is not a Aries, Tish.” All the girls were surrounded by the board, you included. On your schedule it was written quite big, ‘PRIVATE: BISHOP 10:30PM’ and you had no idea why, but it wasn’t that you weren’t excited. “Y por qué yo tengo nada? The fuck?” Magick scoffed, her schedule being just one performance at 9pm. “At least you can just relax around.” Midnight, one of the dancers, laughed, her hand resting on your shoulder, she taps it. “Damn, Lola the chosen one this month.” You laughed, hiding your nerves, “I don’t know why.” You softly answered.
“And why Bishop? Is he like retiring?” Angel asked from her seat, counting money. “Nadie sabe, Eddy’s stupid anyways.” Magick said, clearly upset that her schedule was so clear. Tish walked in, stepping hard on the floor, “I’m getting my boobs done.” The room erupted with squeals and cheers, Angel standing up to hug her. “Yeah, yeah say your goodbyes cause this girl going to Mexico.” Big Eddy said, making his way to the office before being stopped by a whistle from Magick.
“What’s this schedule? You hate me? Why the fuck is your Babadook friend getting a private? Para qué?” “You talk too much.” He muttered resting on his office doorway. “We doing a new thing, gonna test out how you girls do on private dances.” Big Eddy explained, for once having many of the girls’ attention. “This just a draft, Bishop doing it cause Alamo nor G available tonight. Lola was our pick.” “Lola can dance on a stick, and it would even have more emotion than that man.” Angel said, having the girls giggle.
You hadn’t said anything. You were trying to place if it had something to do with the conversation you had with Bishop at the diner. “Y’all barely know this fool.” Eddy spoke, “Do you even know this fool?” Magick mimicked, still very, very pissed. Big Eddy just grumbled, taking a quick look at the girls before going to his desk, “No bullshit tonight.” He yells.
You sat at your chair looking at your reflection. Your pupils were huge, you could see goosebumps forming on your arms, your heartbeat so loud it was coming out your ears. “You’ve done privates before, right?” Angel asked you. You sure had, it wouldn’t be professional of a strip club to not serve that in their job. “Here and there, extra money with some blowjobs or handjobs.” You weren’t proud, but money was needed on some certain nights at your old place.
But Silver Slipper was different, you felt like a princess. And tonight, you could prove that you were an outstanding dancer, not just for everyone, but for Bishop.
꧂
Bishop rarely drank, like ever. Only at his house or surrounded by his close peers. But tonight, he needed to not let anything get to him, especially you. Sitting on the bar, Tylenol in hand, he shoved it down his mouth, followed by an Old fashioned. “You acting like a hippopotamus giving you a dance.” G was beside him, having a cold whiskey and eating peanuts. “I do not know what she wants from me.” Bishop said, looking down at his drink.
“She’s beautiful though.” G looked around the club, looking at Bishop, he whispered, “You should find out how tight that pussy is.” Bishop shoved G off him, hearing his cackles grow loud. Settling down, G patted his shoulder getting off his sit. “What’s up, doc...here come the girl of the night.” G walked away, making Bishop turn around, looking for you. And you were hard to miss.
Flirting with a table, you stood proudly in your red glitter six-inch heels, a blood red lingerie set, the side of your panties being this decorative golden chains. Your bra was fully bedazzled accompanied with fringe, the lights of the club making you shine with every movement. You had gemstones on your eyes with a light gold eyeshadow. A red lip. You were unbelievable to Bishop, a walking angel from the sky.
Accepting the money from the man you were talking to on top of your bra, you made your way to Bishop, who was already looking at you, standing by the entry. You focused on his wardrobe, a white button up with stripes paired with a dark red tie, dark brown pants, and dark blue trench coat. As always, he carried his prayer beads, he never let go of them. Finally, the two of you were face to face. It almost felt like it was just the two of you in the whole world.
“Bishop.”
“Lola Bunny.”
“Are you ready for me?”
“It’s 10:27.”
“I won’t charge the extra minutes.”
“…Lead the way.”
꧂
The private rooms were all different, for different usages. You led Bishop to your assigned room. It was spacious, a pole in the center with a small platform. In front of the pole was a couch pushed against the wall that was a mirror. A mini bar facing the left side of the room, another couch on the right side.
You turned to Bishop, the biggest smile on your face. “I’ll make you a drink!” Heels clacking their way to make him a drink. Bishop didn’t say anything, instead he placed his beads on the doorknob, and took one of the chairs from the corner, dragging it till he reached the security camera. Placing himself on top, he took the tape he had out of his pocket, biting a piece of tape, he covered the camera. He wasn’t going to let Big Eddy see this humiliation ritual they did to him.
“What are you doing?” You hadn’t turned your head, making him a vodka soda, a vodka cranberry for you. “Don’t worry about it.” He replied, dragging the chair back to its place. Feeling his presence on your left, you looked at him, you were practically the same height with the help of your heels. Holding both drinks in your hands, you kept that sweet smile. “You smell good.” “Make it quick.” Bishop replied, grabbing his drink, and making his way to the couch. You rolled your eyes, taking a quick chug of your drink, you made your way to the platform, squatting down to the speaker.
Bishop took off his coat, taking his gun from his back, he unloaded it and placed it on the small coffee table in front of him. “Would you like grade this?” You asked from the stage, holding onto the pole. “Yes,” He crossed hands between his legs, “just dance like you do outside, Bunny.” You cleared your throat, a quick nod to yourself. Showtime.
You were a true masterpiece when it came to pole dancing. You displayed all the techniques you knew with your performance; every step was perfect with the beat of the music, Bishop was engaged. He watched your every move, not a single mistake. He barely blanked every time you twirled around the pole, your knees hooked to the back of the pole, you looked so care free. Bishop wanted to ignore the erection he has growing between his legs. He was too grown to be getting a boner from a pole dance.
“Are you enjoying it?” You asked, so innocently, as if you weren’t dancing barely dressed with a pole with a Rihanna playlist playing all for him. “I am.” “You’re such a liar.” You mumbled, sitting on the edge of the stage. It was Bishop, what was he even going to do with your performance? “Is that all?” He asked, you shrugged, getting shy out of nowhere, looking down. “This is the part I give you a lap dance.” You looked up; Bishop hadn’t moved a muscle. He straightens his back, “I’m not stopping you.” You felt your cunt flutter, you were actually doing this.
You stood up, getting a glance of yourself though the mirror. Strutting your way to Bishop, it’s like your footsteps got louder, your breathing got shorter. Shaky but firm hands grasped on Bishop’s shoulders, straddling him. He slowly dragged his hands to your hips, making you shudder at the touch of his cold hands in your warm body. You moved your hips in slow circles, moving your hands to his chest. Bishop couldn’t believe he was letting this happen. Feeling your cunt through his crotch was heaven, he wants to believe this is the closest the two of you will get on an intimate level.
“I can feel you.” You whispered so low, so low Bishop almost didn’t catch what you said. But you both knew; you both knew Bishop’s cock was poking hard through his pants. “Don’t get excited.” Bishop whispered back, looking up when he heard you giggle. “I shouldn’t get excited? You and your bud—” You pressed down harder, making his breath hitch, “...would be leaving me alone.” You have no idea what came over you, you felt like you were on top of the world.
Moving your hands on top of Bishop’s, you leaned to his face your mouth grazing his, “You wanna see them, B?” Bishop didn’t even have time to analyze what you asked him. He did see how your hands reached for the center of your bra, a quick clasp and you were taking your top off. Bishop couldn’t hear his thoughts to this point, everything was happening so fast.
He moved his hands to your abdomen, his eyes not leaving your now exposed breasts, nipples perked up because of how cold the room was. God you were so beautiful. “You’re doing really good.” Bishop said, trying to remember this was overall a test, that he wasn’t feeling any type of pleasure from this. “Yeah, I’d figured.” You stood briefly, not a single moment had Bishop’s hands left your body.
You sat back down, having your back facing him, sitting directly on his growing erection. It didn’t even feel like you were doing a lap dance anymore. You grabbed his knees spreading them even more, having your butt grind right against him. “Fuck—” Bishop muttered under his breath, hoping you didn’t hear him. You were creating a friction in such an intense way, he couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.
And then you moaned, that’s when Bishop realized how your movement changed from a sensual dance to you grinding yourself against his cock, chasing pleasure. A professional act would’ve been for Bishop to tap out, hand you his money, thank you for the dance and leave. But Bishop also knew he had time left, and that testing out your private dance was the only thing Alamo had asked him to do for the Thursday night.
Would it hurt to add more fuel to the fire?
He sat up, and pulled you closer, having you gasp. “Bishop—” “Don’t freak out and I won’t freak out.” He whispered against your ear. It felt like a movie, a very soft porno movie if you will. Bishop’s right hand made its way to your panties, going upward until it connected to your right boob, instantly you placed your hand on top of his. “Would you let this to happen?” He asked so slowly, making his left hand make the same movement, your hand following.
With Bishop’s hands on top of your breasts, you were still grinding on top of him, not once did you think about stopping. “I don’t know...” You whimpered, “it- it feels good.” “I know baby.” Bishop said. Baby. He had never called you that, your heart was fluttering. “You haven’t answered.” Bishop placed a light kiss on your shoulder. You knew his question was about the men you would dance to if you did private dances, if you’d allowed them to place you in such a vulnerable position like the one you were in right now.
“Nu uh...” You answered, fastening your movements. “No? Then why are you doing it, Bunny?” Bishop kept leaving small kisses all over your shoulders and neck. You were so lost in the feeling of your grinds that made your clit bump against Bishop, you hadn’t noticed how he traced his hand down to your panties, this time making his fingers go inside you. You gasped loud when you felt him on your cunt, lightly placing his fingers, doing the smallest circles since the movement of your hips were already giving you that pleasurable sensation. Two of his fingers made his way inside your tight cunt.
“Bunny…” Bishop spread his fingers slightly, ignoring your whimpers. “You’re so wet...who let you get this wet?” Whimpers and moans were the only thing coming out of your mouth. You turned your head back, facing Bishop. With little patience inside your body, you finally crashed your lips against his. And it felt so fucking good.
Bishop was fingering you, slowly dragging them to your clit, he would then grope your boob and kiss you, swallowing all your moans and whimpers with his mouth. You couldn’t stop pushing back against him, you were practically begging for Bishop to push you to the couch, pull your panties and shove his cock inside of you and destroy you.
A loud bang was heard from outside the room. You wanted to gasp— you did gasp, but Bishop was quicker to put his hand over your mouth. The two of you stayed still, in this very intimate position, waiting to see of something was to occur. Hearing yells and ruckus outside, you whimpered, making your hips circle on top of Bishop again.
“Bunny…” Bishop whispered in a tone that was telling you ‘We should stop’, yet, his fingers were still rubbing your folds, and you were getting so close. “Please B…I don’t want you to stop.” You whimpered going faster than before. He groaned, placing a hand on your hip, he kept the your clit with his other hand.
“Can’t believe you’re letting me do this.” He whispered, “You know Alamo could kill me if he saw what you’re letting me do to you?” You moaned, feeling your climax get closer. “He’d be furious to know I got to you first, that you’d be this easy to break.” You felt it just then, your coil snapping. You had no idea how to react with the combination of Bishop’s words and his quick fingers on your cunt.
“Bishop—!” You moaned while you came, his free hand quickly covering your mouth. Even though the room was soundproof, you were quite loud. I mean who are you to blame? He was working unforgettable movements and the last time a guy made you cum must’ve been ages ago. Your moans turned into whimpers, turned into deep breaths. It hits you now, it hits you hard. Bishop made you cum, on his lap, while you were supposed to just give him a lap dance. What the actual fuck?
Bishop moved quicker than you, pushing you out his lap, he stayed still for a moment. Looking down at his hands, one covered in the wetness of your orgasm and the other one with slight lipstick marks from your mouth. He turned to look at you, bare chest heaving and that scared look you always tend to give him. Like a person that was caught doing something wrong. “Get dressed.” Bishop stood up, throwing your bra at you while he put his gun and coat back on.
You were still processing basically everything, but you knew Bishop wasn’t going to pillow talk you from just fingering you. Once the two of you got dressed, he made his way to the door, taking his prayer beads in hand, you behind. “What are you gonna tell Alamo?” You finally spoke up, before he could get his hand to open the door. He slowly turned to you, a look in his face that told you he didn’t have time for this. But he wanted to tell you, he wanted to just talk to you and stay with you for the rest of the night.
“Go make money, Lola.” Was all he said.
But you couldn’t just accept that, like you really couldn’t accept that. You knew these feelings weren’t just some tension you and Bishop were building up. You know this had to be something more. It’s why you the moment he reached to the doorknob, you put your hand on his, and leaned in to kiss him. Your soft lips crashed against Bishop, and that’s when he kissed back. Grazing his fingers slightly at your stomach, he pushed you against the door so softly.
You pull away, looking for a new expression. Bishop’s eyes had softened, looking more tender at you. “I think you’re gonna be a problem for me.” He whispered. The door opens making you walk backwards till you got outside. “I’ll make sure I won’t be complicated, B.” You smiled. Bishop’s name was being called out there, God knows for how long. Slowly he made his way out, his eyes never leaving yours. Standing alone you felt like coming back from a roller coaster.
bishop who had been at it for at least an hour, soft tongue licking all over your pussy. the inside of your thighs soaking his beard, dripping down your ass. bishop sat on his knees in front of the couch, his big hands under your thighs: shoving them into your chest.
“fuck baby, eat that pussy.” your breathing is heavy as your throw your head back. his lips latch onto your clit, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s trying to leave a hickey on your clit.
the sounds are vulgar as he slurps you up, your eyes rolling back and your thighs start shaking around his head again, “I’m gonna cum, daddy, fuck.” he lets out a loud growl in response, shoving his tongue inside of you, tongue fucking your pussy.
your legs drop as you cum, bishop licking up all the mess; “fuck daddy.” you moan. he gives you clit on last kiss, kissing up your tummy, stopping to suck one of your nipples for a second before kissing you mouth; letting you taste yourself.
your eyes are locked on each other as he stands, unbuckling his belt slowly.
hi bb! in honor of the finale tonight can we get some bishop and his pregnant gf
Oh absolutely
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆Bishop and pregnant!reader
| bishop x f!reader | warnings: smut, a little drabble of celebration, unprotected sex, breeding kink, married couple (that’s husband down), etc. | mdni18+ |
Bishop knew you were the one for him on your first date. You were kind, honest, young, smart, and a angel by heart.
One year in the relationship, Bishop had you all studied out. Especially in bed.
Bishop is a gentleman in bed he really is. Always made sure you were comfortable; gave you mind exploding orgasms with his mouth or hands alone. And fucked you so good, his cock ruined you to the point that he was all you wanted inside you. But that wasn’t Bishop’s main observation, it was how you talked to him.
It was one night he had gotten back from work. You made him dinner wearing your apron, hair tied up, just being so natural and comfortable in the moment, all in his house. Which is why he took you to his bed and had you on all fours, pounding you from behind with no remorse. You love when Bishop gets a little rough with you. The tight grip on your hips, the smacks he’d give your ass just to get your attention or even tighten your cunt around. And well your favorite thing…
“Tell me how good it feels, baby.”
You mewl, “s— so good, Bishop…it feels so good.” It really did. Bishop has a nice long cock that would create a bulge when it was inside of you. Going in and out of you at an unforgiving pace is what always got you in a chokehold. It was everything to you.
Now, you and Bishop had already had sex with no protection. You were on the pill and the two of you were clean. So having unprotected sex was just easier for the two of you, and truthfully you both loved it.
“You gonna let me nut in you?” “Yes! Oh— oh! I want it baby.” You moaned, focused on his thrusts, you could feel his whole dick slide in and out of you. Bishop’s dick had become recognizable inside of you, you even had his veins memorized. “I want it baby...” You slur, looking back at Bishop. Face focused, mouth light agape, his eyes found yours.
“Say it like you mean it.”
And you did, making him lean towards you to give you a kiss, or well simply make out with you. You couldn’t control yourself. “Daddy I want you to nut in me...I want it so deep you get me pregnant.” Bishop could feel his balls get heavy, light slaps against your clit. “Yeah?” He huffs, a genuine question at your request. “Don’t you think so? Don’t you want me to be yours?” You led his hand to your stomach, especially where his dick was pushing through to poke out.
“Here, daddy. I want your baby here.” And Bishop came, he came right where you wanted him to.
However, you didn’t get pregnant that night. But you and Bishop decided that if the two of you were 100% in this, it had to be a true pact. So, you stopped taking birth control, and a month later, after Bishop had you on the top of the hood of his car after one date night, you got pregnant.
Months later and you and Bishop were already building the baby crib together. Well, he was while you just laid on the floor, holding a screwdriver. “My mom always said that you can tell it’s a girl if I get ugly, because all the mom’s beauty goes to the daughter.” “Then I guess it’s a boy, because you look more beautiful by the second to me.” Bishop said, while placing one of the of the barriers.
You were 18 weeks, and tomorrow you would find the gender of the baby. The two of you basically couldn’t sleep, given that it was 11pm. “I don’t want a boy. I mean— I do but I would like a girl too.” You said, standing up to see yourself in the mirror. The bump was starting to become visible, it would get you emotional to know you were having a baby with the man you loved, building a family, building love.
Bishop was admiring you from afar, I mean you looked glorious to him. You always did. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be his forever, to be his wife, to be the mother of his kid.
“Come here.” He spoke softly, letting go of the stuff he had in his hands and dragging you to sit on top of him. You were breathtaking, the light in the room just made you look so mesmerizing to him. “The moment I met you, I wanted to be in your life forever, you know that?” He asks, his hands rubbing your back. “Yes, it’s in your vows.” You giggle, giving him a quick kiss, making him hum. “You should know that if you want a girl, we can have a girl. I want to give you as much babies as you want.” He said, seeing your reaction quickly change with an eyebrow raise.
“As much as I want? Even if I want…” You started thinking, pushing him back to straddle him, his hands finding their way to your butt. “…30?” Bishop rolls his eyes, “Both you and I know, you’re not birthing 30 kids.” You giggle at his response, quickly quieting down with a kiss. “Maybe we should fuck again, make sure I’m really pregnant.” You stood from his lap, making your way out of the nursery and onto your shared bedroom. “You said that last week.” Bishop said, standing up to follow behind.
Still, that wasn’t stopping him from undoing his belt, walking into the room to find you practically naked already, the only thing you were wearing was a necklace with his initial he had gotten you for a valentine’s gift. “You’re not saying no.” You shrugged, slowly crawling on the bed.
Bishop wasn't exactly someone who was attached to certain people; all he did was his job, carry out Alamo's orders, and not screw things up. Simple.
But in recent weeks, he'd found himself entangled in some “situations,” something he couldn't get out of his mind, pushing the situation to the breaking point.
You'd gotten the job at the club through a friend; she'd promised you quick and easy money, something you were desperate for.
The nights were slow and stifling, filled with men and those lights that left you as blind as the smoke from the joints Alamo lit. As for him, he'd been a kind of "decent" boss, guiding you on your path to the club, and of course, you'd had sex with him to get where you were now.
The day you met Bishop was the day you arrived at the Alamo mansion. He wasn't going to forget how beautiful you looked in that mermaid-style blouse and the miniskirt that barely covered your ass. And of course, that lipstick that kept him mesmerized, admiring the way your lips trembled with nerves that night. And when your gaze met his, he felt his breath quicken and his throat feel strangely dry, a sensation that made him feel uneasy all over.
“April” wasn't your real name, but it was when you started working at the club that your coworkers gave it to you. Even though your birthday was in October, you quickly got used to the nickname. It was nice.
The first week you started, Alamo was more than happy to see the profits you began to generate, the natural way you captivated the men around you, tempting them like a snake, taking their money by the handful with every sway of your hips on stage.
So much so, that Bishop himself swore you could take money from him too if he had you like that for just one night.
And so it was.
After a long night of work, at 4:37 AM, Bishop was your driver that night, dropping you off at your apartment, offering to let you in at the door, making sure you got home safe and sound, even though he knew that wasn't his only intention.
Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on his lap, kissing him passionately, panting softly against his lips. His shirt lay next to the jacket you'd put on for cover. You were still in your club attire, as if your workday wasn't over yet, moving your hips in slow, torturous circles on his lap. You felt the hardness of his erection brush against the folds of your delicate lace thong, feeling it moisten with just that touch.
Bishop had made you nervous from the first time you spoke, but as the days passed, he realized that you were like that for no reason. You were always on high alert, and he understood; it was your job. But right now, he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing you and guiding your movements on his erection.
“How much you're gonna cost me?”
A whisper escaped Bishop's lips between kisses, his hands gripping your buttocks, squeezing them and pulling you closer, lifting your hips so you felt him completely, making you sigh and gently arch your back.
“$150 for an hour...”
“... Just one hour?”
You pulled back slightly at his words, your nose brushing against his, his gaze a soft plea. The idea that he wanted you for more than an hour was unexpected, and obviously, money wasn't an issue for Bishop.
You moved forward, your lips meeting his again, your hands gripping his jaw, holding him close, kissing him with a hunger you never imagined you had for a man.
“$500 and I'm yours for as long as you want.”
You sighed against his lips, kneeling on the mattress, slowly starting to pull down your thong, your eyes never leaving Bishop.
But before you could remove it completely, Bishop grabbed your hips, turning you over on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His hands moved down to yours, preventing you from taking the thong off completely.
“Keep it on.”
He whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down. His fingers found your pussy, still covered by your clothes, feeling how wet you were. He sighed against your lips, but didn't kiss you, studying your every expression, moan, and sigh.
You moaned a whispered curse as you felt Bishop slide your thong to the side, leaving your pussy completely exposed. His fingers found their way to your folds, caressing them, moistening his fingers, using your fluids as a lubricant to begin stroking your clit. At the same time, his free hand slid down to his aching erection, freeing it from his pants.
Your moans soon followed. His thumb stroked with the perfect pressure to make your legs tremble, gently pressing your thighs against his hand. He leaned down to your thighs, starting to kiss them, first the left, leaving kisses and hickeys that you knew would take at least an hour to cover with makeup.
Then, he moved to your right thigh, taking his hand away from your clit to cup it, lifting it so you rested it on his shoulder. He left kisses there too, but these kisses trailed down to your cunt, kissing your labia, his tongue darting out to collect the fluids escaping your entrance, licking, then sliding his tongue in to explore you.
His free hand caressed the aching head of his cock, grunting against your wet pussy, his tongue flicking out from your entrance to caress your clit. And when he did that, oh, your world shrank to how talented his tongue was, making you arch your back and reach down into his hair, holding it there, not wanting that pleasurable sensation to end so soon.
You moaned and lifted your hips to take more of him, raising your left thigh to his shoulder, now leaving him no escape, feeling his free hand grip your thigh and squeeze it before sliding down to your ass and slapping it, making you tremble and gasp his name in a cry of surprise. Then, both his hands moved to your buttocks, abandoning his needy, aching cock, squeezing your cheeks and pressing your pussy to his mouth. Your moans were tortured, almost like you were crying with pleasure, moaning his name aloud, loving the way his tongue licked and his lips sucked your clit.
Bishop responded with a soft laugh, but without the corners of his lips lifting. This man was strange.
The sex was incredible; you couldn't remember the last time someone had made you come so many times.
But even things that begin, must end.
You woke up in bed, out of your dancer outfit, feeling your hair bothering your face. You brushed it away, beginning to regain consciousness after such a long sleep.
Reaching out, you felt the side of the bed was still warm, and opening your eyes, you saw Bishop sitting on the edge of it, putting on his shoes and getting up to pick up his shirt and coat. He put them on, his gaze shifting to yours.
“Did you sleep well?”
"Yeah. And you?"
“Me too.” You two talked as if nothing had happened; it was more cordial than a conversation, really, but who could blame you? You both been like that for quite a while.
“See you tonight.”
“Yeah, goodbye.”
And with that, Bishop left your apartment, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone, still with the warmth of his body and his scent on your sheets, with the memories of his bites, kisses, and caresses all over you.
When you turned over in bed, you saw five $100 bills Bishop had left behind. You had completely forgotten about them.
Everything was back to normal; no one knew what you had, even as you felt him leave your bed, the words “I love you” threatened to escape your lips.
.˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ⋆.
a/n: no hablo inglés y apenas escribo en inglés, voy a subir esto a pelo, cualquier error está hecho a propósito. estaba escuchando bad bunny cuando escribí esto.
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