heartbomb;

writing blog for macherierps.

[macheriewrites]

sierramused‌:

                       “Fucking Christ, Nicole.” There was a groan that surpassed his lips and his hands threaded through his hair in frustration. That was the thing with this woman. It always escalated, it always reached new heights. And, while in the bedroom and in the heat of the moment it could have been exciting, right now it was just pissing him off. His teeth gritted together when his jaw clenched and his journey to the blonde came to a halt when she stopped in her tracks, unexpected. There was no cracking through that tough exterior that was Nicole Sanders and that was something coming from an armed solider with a shield that was arguably indestructible. What did he want? He didn’t know. Shane didn’t come here for her, she just slipped again in his path like she always did. If he was being honest with himself, well, Shane shouldn’t have been surprised. The irony of it all… “I don’t need the money. That wallet was a piece of crap, too. How much did you sucker someone for that?” That didn’t matter, but Shane was bitterly chuckling when he shook his head and squared his shoulders like a boulder. She might run, she might flee for all the wrong reasons, but Shane was here. She wasn’t about to get away this time.

                      His tongue shot out over his upper lip and side stepped to near in closer to her. He didn’t want to put fear in her bones ── that wasn’t what he was here for no matter how much she betrayed him, disappointed him. No, Shane just couldn’t shake the fact that this blonde had some power over him that he hadn’t ever expected. “I want you to be fuckin’ honest.” He spat out, gritting his teeth again. “It’s not just about the money, and call me fuckin’ psycho, but for a split second there you got real with me. So, get real with me now. You had no reason to split. What the fuck happened?” 

‘‘You want me to be honest?’‘ She spat back out at him with a venomous scoff, as if she wanted to spit before his feet. Would it not have been easier if he was there to get revenge? Was he not supposed to pull her by the hand, put it behind her back and drag her by the hair and make sure she paid for what she’d done? Men like him... men in the sort of business he was in-- they didn’t do the talking. They didn’t do reason, they didn’t care enough to wait for a bullshit explanation. So why did he? It was the only way Nicole knew how to act and respond to the situation. She certainly did not see Shane wanting answers or the god forsaken honesty out of her. She hadn’t been honest with anyone, let alone herself, for a good decade, if not more. Whatever he wanted out of her, she was certain she could not give, not even because she didn’t want to (although admittedly, she did not want to), but mainly because she simply did not know how. 

Frowning at him, Nikki was well aware that there was truth to it. She did get real with him, opened up the door just enough to give him a peek but not enough to allow herself to fall into the trap of believing someone like him could develop something real for someone like her. ‘’I don’t know what real is, Shane,’’ She said with such dismay that it almost confused her too. ‘’You think you’re the first guy I’d pulled this shit on? That you were somehow special?’’ The emphasized words almost bled through her voice as she resisted saying them out loud. ‘’Newsflash-- you aren’t. You were never goin’ to be. You were means to an end, and that’s all it was. It’s all about survival babe, and I ain’t gonna stay behind and be your little arm candy before you go and replace me for a younger whore. I know men like you, I’ve been with men like you-- and you ain’t shit. I don’t need a god damn reason to split, I’ll go if I wanna go so I did. How’s that for some fuckin’ honesty?’’ She was always vicious, that Nikki Sanders, but even she couldn’t deny the coldbloodedness that seeped through her very being in the moment. It felt like she ripped through her own chest once again-- first time being when she decided to bounce and rob him, but that didn’t matter-- nothing but coming out on top indepdently, mattered.

[macheriewrites]

sierramused‌:

               Of course she would run. He hadn’t even been there in Vegas for her and yet, it was safe to assume that Nikki had thought so. He was bitter; he was even angry, but his revenge sought out against her wasn’t the pressing issue had to deal with. Shane could do without the few grand that she had taken from him bound together in that wallet ── it was more the betrayal that came with a little white lie and a broken promise that stung the most. He wasn’t a sentimental guy, he didn’t crave affection nor did he dream about a life of romance with that one person plenty would deem as a soulmate… but Nikki? Dare he say it, but he had been pretty damn in love with Nikki. His boulder like stance hadn’t budged even when she backed away and attempted to disappear into the crowd, giving her a five second head start, which had been more for him in order to try and bargain with himself to let her go. He tried, but that just seemed like an impossible feat. 

                 His strides were practically double her’s and it didn’t take him too long to catch up with her. Shane’s broad shoulders practically paved the way for him when he moved through the crowd, while Nikki just had to battle with every patron to get on through. “Do you ever quit running, Nic?” He was close enough for her to hear, but loud enough that his voice was booming in the establishment that she had yet to escape from.

Nikki knew that there was a possibility of him going after her, but she didn’t feel like that was an imminent danger in regards to her well-being. Because that was what it was always all about, wasn’t it? Her being able to prevail, to fend for herself to the best of her ability? It was always about survival first, and everything else came after. It didn’t matter how she felt, or how she made other people feel. The number one thing was always to survive unscathed, as much as it was possible. So what the fuck happened? Shane was supposed to be just a guy, nothing more and nothing less, another means to an end. Her means of assuring that same endurance, to keep herself afloat. But somewhere along the way of his smiles and his words and his actions, in the background of treating her like a human being and within the lines of a dangerous life he led but managing to keep her safe and secure, in between the crumpled up sheets and his kisses -- she felt something that she wasn’t supposed to feel ever again. And it petrified her. She couldn’t be that vulnerable, the way she was with Tyler. It only led to betrayal and heartbreak, and she wanted to be stronger than her weaknesses.

Pushing the door open, she heard his voice coming after her and she debated -- almost fought with herself. Just ignore him, she would tell herself. Block out his voice and pretend you never saw him. That was how it usually went, anyway. And yet, instead she turned around in the empty alley and clenched her jaw, heart thumping so loud that she felt the sound was deafening. It took her a moment or two just figuring out how to respond. Just staring at him, unsure why was she even angry. Most of the time, Nicole didn’t know what her anger meant or why was it there in the first place. ‘’What is it to you?’’ She spat out, eyes focused on him as he walked out of the establishment into the hot night. ‘’What is it-- you want your money back, is that it? ‘Cause you had to know who you were lyin’ in bed with when you chose to go down that route,’’ She continued. ‘’I was always goin’ to do what I did, so what is it to you now? You wanna hear me beg for my life over a couple of grand? Or was it your leather wallet? Sorry to break it to ya, babe, I already sold it.’’ Whether she realized it or not, this was the very first thing she always assumed -- that someone wanted revenge on the shitty things she’d pulled, and for a reason. But the train of thought she always went with was to free herself of the responsibility and tie herself to the petty things, failing -- without a doubt -- to see the bigger picture. She never was able to face the core of things or her own problems.

[macheriewrites]

justannie-writes‌:

    It was hard to remember the when, when he had grown to be so hard-wired to put on such a placid mask. A mask that only ever seemed to slip when anger rose to the surface. The smiles he afforded Skylar had largely been better described as a smirk. It was only in the wee hours, when Emery thought she hadn’t noticed, that it might’ve been akin to something a bit more affectionate. Gaze lingering in the dark of his room on her form sprawled beside him in bed, letting his fingertips brush a few strands of hair from her face. She’d always been so breathtakingly beautiful, his vanity hadn’t afforded her that compliment much outside of physical means; silently saying it as his mouth would leave trails on her skin. 

He’d never been good enough for her. Never was meant to be, told himself he never wanted to be either. Another lie on the pile he told himself so many times he almost believed it. Almost, until one day he was waking up and felt the hole in his life where Skylar had previously been. With her full of life smiles and a laugh he could still almost hear, even now, as she stood there offering what sounded a lot like an insult. 

Emery could hardly quip back that she wouldn’t know, he had verbally painted himself into a corner– clicking his tongue along the inside of his cheek. Biting back the vile that seemed to creep up his throat. “Got a tab open.” He eventually got out, opting to ignore the previous comment if only because he couldn’t think of a way to respond without sounding bitter. Every second that ticked by made his resentment physically more apparent within his lungs. Nimble fingers claimed the shot she poured like a life preserve at sea. Downing it, he watched her go to assist another patron while his careful demeanor frayed at the edges. 

Groaning Emery’s eyes scanned what existed of a crowd so far that evening, trying to decide if there was someone he could target as a distraction. Another person to get lost in and hope maybe this time he’d forget all about her. The second shot he downed would be his only comfort, itching for a smoke. “Was it just you? Scalp someone’s plane ticket?” He posed, curious in the way someone was curious when they were only looking for a train wreck. There had to be something, he reasoned, it wasn’t normal to tell someone you loved them and then just… dip out, right? Not that he’d know. He worked so hard to keep people at arm’s length, it was rare anyone bothered to give a fuck unless they were looking to ‘fix him’. Which was always met with venom. “You could call her that.” He amended, licking over his lips. Dragging his fingertips across the bar in unspoken frustration. “You want to settle down?” He fervently bit back, his tone betraying Emery’s complete lack of belief that Skylar was anymore capable of such a thing than he. “Sounds boring. Thought wild was your middle name, or some shit.” 

The dark eyes shot up towards him when he asked her about being there alone. Of course, he wasn’t stupid. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but Emery knew exactly why he was asking that question. He was aware that there was no tangible way Skylar could afford a luxury trip to Mexico -- she could hardly afford a trip to another state. But in the same manner, there was a small glimmer of a tiny possibility that he was asking that because he was jealous. Call her desperate, but she was at that point, even if she didn’t want to admit that to her own self, let alone him. She wanted him to be jealous because that meant that he cared, at least a fraction of the amount she herself cared for their thing, for him. How did she let it get to that point, she couldn’t even begin to describe -- one moment they were fucking, the other they started playing house more often than she would’ve been prone to admit. And before she realized, Skylar started to like it; being around him, being able to have breakfast with him after a wild night that they only partly remembered. Being able to tell him what was she going to do that day or how her day went. Even when they wouldn’t get in depth with it, even when it was short-lived, he tended to ask and she loved hearing that question.

And now, she had a boyfriend. A serious, mature guy who was able to give her everything she ever desired, and here she was -- only desiring Emery. ‘’Haha, that’s so funny,’’ Clearly, she found nothing funny or even remotely amusing in it. ‘’No-- I went with someone. But let’s not kid yourself, you knew that already. You’re probably hangin’ around my Instagram more often than your pride would let you admit it,’’ She was bold in her statements, but they were all delivered jokingly, with a smile, even a wink at the end. She didn’t know how to communicate with him differently. She was almost half afraid that he wouldn’t catch on had she tried to speak to him in any serious manner out there. Or if he would, that it would scare him to the point of running off. But she was faster this time, wasn’t she? She was the one to run off all the way across country, and nip it in the bud, or at least try to ignore the roots that had already formed. And he couldn’t hurt her first now, could he?

‘‘Hm, or some shit,’‘ She repeated after him, suddenly clearly annoyed with the way he said it. Perhaps it was deserved. Didn’t she try to offend him not two minutes before that, anyway? ‘‘Y’know, not everyone wants to live the way you do forever. At some point, you gotta sober up and start facing reality. It’s called growing up. Maybe you should try it sometime,’‘ Her voice was now so clearly hostile -- an absolute, sudden change from how she tried to playfully quip back not too long before. But if she was being completely honest with herself, it wasn’t him she was angry at for trying to take a dig at her, it was her own self. She wasn’t even angry for saying those three words to him before she bounced. She was angry because of her cowardice to take another step at it and try her luck, even at the cost of losing him because he didn’t feel the same way. Now she was stuck in the limbo with him without ever getting a chance because she called it official with someone else. And judging by what he was saying, he was already with another girl himself.

Skye snatched a shot glass from the shelf herself and poured a shot of Anejo, ignoring the lime altogether as she let the liquid burn her throat. Throwing the rag over her shoulder, she shook her head. ‘’This is bullshit,’’ She muttered to herself and signaled for her co-bartender to take over. ‘’I need a break,’’ She told him and glanced over Emery. ‘’Have a lot of fucking fun with your housekeeper, asshole.’’ Snapping out of nowhere, she felt like she reached her cap of being able to take more from him. Marching over to the room in the back, she debated calling her boyfriend, but it was already past midnight and he was one of the businessmen, working the AM hours, like every responsible person in the world with a normal job. It suddenly annoyed her -- what was she doing? She didn’t even want to be in that relationship. What was she trying to prove and to whom?

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

She wasn’t listening and she could only hope that pissed the fuck out of him. The blonde was still picking up her clothes that were pretty much all over the place at this point. On the counters, on the floor, in the bathroom. There was no way she wasn’t forgetting at least a third of her wardrobe there. “I’m not,” she muttered as he lectured her, still gathering her belongings so she could vacate the premises as quickly as possible. Maybe she could call Scott. God knew he had enough space in his mansion/apartment for her. She didn’t particularly want to stay there as she didn’t understand him or his world most of the time, but she was out of options and there actually was no way she was going to stay at Caine’s place.

As she shoved another piece of underwear in the back, she looked around and, when she couldn’t see any more of her stuff anywhere, she turned to face Mateo again. “I’m not being fucking dramatic, you asshole. I am, however, regretting a whole lot of my decisions when you’re concerned,” she spat, the lie coming out easily. She could let him interpret that as he wished. “Because I liked it here, that’s why. Now get out of my way, so I can leave and we can go back to not knowing each other.” 

It took him a moment or two to really register anything outside of what Micah was doing. Once his eyes darted around the cooped up trailer, he realized she really made it a point to leave a mark there. Her clothes and everything else she owned, apparently, was sprawled everywhere. And in a split second, Mateo forgot that he technically wanted her out of there. A part of him, something he was trying so hard to ignore, felt almost endeared by the chaotic scene; not beacause it was the way it was, but because, he quckly realized, Micah felt comfortable enough around him to make herself at home. Quite literally. But then again, wasn’t this just her personality? Wouldn’t she do the same thing anywhere else? 

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean?’‘ Mateo frowned, suddenly snapped back to reality. Almost violently at that. Arguing with her was the last thing he wanted to do that night; exhausted -- he was just trying to call it a night but apparently, that wasn’t happening. The more she spit the words back into his face, the more riled up he was getting. Exhausting and negativity were never a good combination, as far as Mateo was concerned. ‘‘If you’re gonna be a fuckin’ psycho, at least try not to speak in riddles and act like a mature woman for once in your god damn life,’‘ He shrugged back, now getting dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

[macheriewrites]

justannie-writes‌:

     It would be a lie if Emery said some part of him wasn’t aiming for a reaction, even just a brief hesitation in Skylar’s petite frame. A flicker of her gaze towards the woman he was sending a drink to, anything. Assuredly that was a huge part of why Emery was there that evening, on the dance floor and in the company of women while knowing Skylar was nearby behind the bar. Inwardly having hoped she had seen him, there - with company, and attempting to inspire some smidgen of jealousy. Perhaps just one small inkling of the jealousy he himself was burning up with. Not that he had ever thought himself successful of it before, when they still frequented one another’s beds, because Skye was such a free spirit that he hardly could think it bothered her.

If her words uttered thickly on drunk lips had meant anything, Emery would still hope there was some tangible evidence she missed him. Even if she wasn’t as easily prone to the little green monster as he. 

“You know me so well,” the words were said with a teasing sly smirk but they felt heavy on his tongue. Bitter and corrosive. He gave a silent approving nod of the Anejo, tacking on a smooth half-whisper of “I’m always generous, Skye.” A mocking glint flickering in his hickory hues. The pair of them knowing that was hardly true, he was all flash and no substance half the time. Generous with money, as if he had more than he did, but not generous in spirit– locking away all his afforded kindness like hoarded gold. Only letting it slip through the cracks on rare occasions, usually moments he didn’t think would be remembered; like the night he had taken care of Skylar. 

His thick brows knitted together, her ‘great’ almost earning a blatant scowl. Her smile feeling a little bit like she reached out to smack him, but that was nothing compared to the nonchalance she managed when tossing that goddamn keychain onto the bar. His gaze forced to skirt down toward it, index finger hooking into the silver loop. “Been getting a tan hm?” There was a pause, while she painted on a smile he painted on a slick smirk. Both perhaps a little too good at pretending. Especially him, with his cold indifference– as if she wasn’t silently breaking his heart. “Mhm, still living the life. Wouldn’t worry about the sheets, though– got a cute little redhead whose been bopping around taking care of it. Might let her stick around, even got me a house plant.” Emery hated her. She hummed, she did his dishes, she never left in the mornings like any other respectable fuck buddy. Still, for that one brief moment, he would use her presence to his advantage; meanwhile, he had been deeply contemplating how to get rid of her without having to deal with a crier. 

‘‘You say that like it’s hard,’‘ Playfully, Skylar made a comment that was anything but shallow or playful for that matter. No, she was aiming to hurt him this time around. It wasn’t in her nature and it wasn’t something she would have done in many other cases, but she had also never been in that situation before -- she truly did not know how to behave. What her comment meant in all its glory, of course, was that there wasn’t much to Emery to know.  But with the manner in which she said it, it could have easily been written off as a joke; had he tried to push back, he would have looked like he couldn’t take one. And Skylar, while used to playing some sort of a mind game with him most of the time, stunned her own self at the realization that some venom coursed through her veins, too. She’d always tried to be a good person, but now she was trying the exact opposite. Was she trying to punish him for not missing her? The idea of that was strange to say the least, but she wanted him to miss her so much that he would drop the act, if it were just the act. And perhaps a small part of her hoped that he harbored some feelings for a girl he’d been seeing for over a year, because she’d been let in before. Just a bit, as if he left the door ajar, but she caught a glimpse into his real person and that was, ultimately, what she fell for.

But a glimmer of such hope wasn’t enough, it was never going to be enough. Skylar didn’t think her head was in the clouds, but with him it was debatable. She was prone to trying to dig for more in him and with the most recent developments, it just didn’t seem like there was anything to dig for. Maybe he was just that cold. Maybe he was just that empty. Maybe some people were just that simple. A complete opposite of the hot blooded half-Filipina that she was, that wore her heart on her sleeve without even realizing it most of the time, and most importantly, in love with life and living it to the fullest. If you asked Skylar Mendoza, she would have told you that she wanted to experience it all, no matter the cost. But now? She was second guessing her own beliefs, because she wasn’t sure Emery was worth it.

Placing a row of shot glasses, almost furiously, Skylar snatched that bottle of Anejo and poured it over the glasses in a simple, swift move. Pushing some lime and salt previously arranged on the small plate, she served him with a friendly smile, despite her jaw almost being locked in place and her knuckles over the rag she was holding, white. Because she needed to hold onto something just as a failsafe. To get through his smiles, through his nonchalance, through whatever he was feeling -- or better yet, not feeling for her. ‘’That’ll be $45 -- you got a tab open or d’you wanna pay as you go?’’ She added, a small sigh leaving her lips as if she was getting bored of the conversation. On the other side of the bar, a random guy whistled over to her, hailing her down. She raised a finger at Emery as if to ask him to wait for a moment, as she hopped over to the customer with a sudden shift in attitude, as if welcoming them with open arms and a hint of her usual flirtation.

Returning back, one could say that she was almost sad that the club was not yet packed as it was a tad bit early. This meant that she couldn’t use the excuse of being too busy to chat with him. ‘’What can I say, I like to indulge,’’ She commented back -- getting a tan wasn’t really the reason she went, of course, but what would he know about that. Yes, she wanted to rub it in his face that she was with someone there and truth be told -- it had to be questionable how does a bartender afford a trip to Mexico or even Downtown at that point, but Skye didn’t want to make it too obvious, not until he asked. If he asked. ‘’Ah, got yourself a housekeeper,’’ Skylar threw her head back as she laughed and mocked his retort about having someone -- despite not liking the idea of it, she knew it wasn’t wired to last. There was no way it would. It never did with him. ‘’I guess I can see how that can happen. This wild life gets old, I would know it. You just want to... settle down a bit, y’know?’’ She squinted in his direction. ‘’Can’t blame you, I actually can relate.’’

[macheriewrites]

justannie-writes‌:

     Emery did not know what to do with love. His ashtray of a heart surely felt foreign to the concept, struggling to even admit to himself that he missed Skye– nonetheless actually acknowledge what had slipped from her pretty little mouth the night he had been diligently holding back her hair. It had been easy then to ignore it, easy to not be too surprised when he woke the next morning to an empty bed; how many times had that happened previously? Too many to count. What hadn’t been easy was the chasm between then and now. In the early blinking hours of that morning Emery had never expected anything to change. He had said a few several handfuls of fairly shit things to her in the past– pushing, hell risked both their jobs at one point by jumping onto a patron for groping her and still she’d stuck around. He’d never guess that one drunk utterance would change anything.  

How much had changed was debatable. His bed still a revolving door, but his irritability seemed to keep piling up as each woman wasn’t her. Not that, again, Emery was looking to admit that was why his already admitedly unpleasant demeanor had managed to sour further. Or, why, there was a particular small pile of laundry in his rundown apartment that hadn’t been done; that her scent still lingered on. 

“I have a decent idea,” the disheveled brunette quipped back with an idle tilt of his head. Offering her a lazy smirk. “Me, whiskey on the rocks. Her–” a sideways nod of his head insinuated a woman down the bar. “Whatever she’s been nursing, put it on my card yeah?” He flicked the piece of plastic towards Skylar. Swallowing down a lump in his throat as his deep brown gaze lingered a little too long on her. “Actually, I lied– give me a line of tequila shots.” Emery was already a fair bit toasted, his weight more so nestled against the bar than on his own two feet for an elongated minute. Standing there in front of Skylar was giving him an extra itch to stare down the bottom of a bottle, briefly contemplating yet again why of all the clubs in Chicago he’d decided this was where to spend his night. Intent to remain playing utterly unphased by it all, Emery’s gaze briefly scanned the evening’s crowd. 

“So, how’ve you been? You know, besides all this.” Fired from his previous job, it’d been impressively easy to pick up another at a different spot downtown. Experience seemed to outweigh the need for the recommendation he wouldn’t have gotten. 

Call her a pessimist brimming with negativity, but Skylar fully expected him to make a snarky comment about the men that were in and out of her bed. Not because he didn’t do the same, but because she did him dirty. She knew he always had a big ego, but she was never sure how fragile it really was. She burned a huge hole in that ego when she left and never picked up her phone, left for longer than usual and definitely playing him like an instrument. And maybe that was why it felt like it was given that his bitterness would weasle out of him in the same way it must’ve weasled its way in, but was almost stunned to learn that he just seemed utterly... unbothered. And after the initial surprise as he hardly gave her a second glance, some hurt came flooding in. She would’ve been damned to let it show, especially surrounded by so many people, but perhaps Skye was the only one in this equation whose ego was bruised. And by what... a simple glance, a comment he’d made, something so small and otherwise irrelevant. 

She didn’t give the girl he pointed at a second glance. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was shake him by the shoulders and ask if what she’d said meant so little in the grand scheme of things. A confession that slipped from her lips when it shouldn’t have felt like a burden in the air between the two. Or maybe, just maybe, she was the stupid one here -- she allowed herself to truly fall for the one person she never should have, the one who didn’t deserve an inch of her heart. And it was so wildly strange; Skye had never been in love before hence she’d never been hurt like that either. Pushing that sinking feeling even further down her chest, Skye nodded and hopped off to grab a bottle of Patron. ‘’You still treatin’ people with Patron or do you wanna go with something else? Given how generous you seem to be tonight,’’ She displayed the Anejo too, in case he wanted to flaunt, which was so in character for him that she didn’t think twice about it really.

‘‘Oh, things’ve been great,’‘ She finally popped that smile she knew how to sport so well as she realized she would need to play that role again. Brief were the moments between the two of them when she didn’t overthink if her words were impacting their relationship, and so she played the part. A tiring one, but still a part. Reaching towards the back pocket of her daisy dukes, she retrieved a keychain pendant with a Mexican motive. ‘‘Here, even brought you a gift,’‘ Of course, it was hardly for him but what better way to say that she’d been living her best life in a whole other country than this? Subtle, smooth. Just like how Skye liked to be. ‘‘Catch,’‘ She launched it across from herself and onto the top of the bar before she approached one more time. ‘‘How ‘bout you? I see it’s same old, same old? I do hope you’re changin’ those sheets at least,’‘ A little bit of a snide comment, but she couldn’t help herself.

[macheriewrites]

justannie-writes‌:

EMERY & SKYLAR @macheriewrites​

The stubborn young man had told himself several times that it absolutely did not bother him; good riddance, he would mutter. Adding ‘good luck’ to the supposedly put together man in question, had he ever got a name? It hardly mattered, Emery would scoff. Whoever it was. Despite his attempts to brush the whole thing off, and the multitude of snide inner monologue regarding the news followed with shrugs and a million ‘like I care’s, Emery seemed to contradict it all with his actions. Ending up at the bar on a night he knew Skye would be working. 

For most of the night he would intentionally avoid her, keeping the company of random women; buying them drinks and taking them out on the dance floor. Making it look like he was having a good time, or as if perhaps he didn’t even know she was there. Intentionally only interacting with the second bartender on shift that busy Friday night, but always seemingly lingering nearby in hopes of being seen without actively acknowledging Skye himself. 

It wasn’t until he was several drinks in that he would approach the barside directly in front of the woman in question, hair looking a bit ruffed up and forehead beaded with sweat; arriving from the dance floor. Emery leaned an inked elbow to steady himself on the bar and jutted out a hand to beckon for Skylar’s attention. “Hey, can’t be ignoring customers just ‘cause they’ve seen you naked.” A very on-brand but entirely inappropriate way to garnish her attention. “Help a guy out, would ya? I need to know what that leggy blonde down the bar there–” he pointed, leaning conspiratorially closer to Skylar as he did so. “Has been drinking so I can send something over.”

If there was one thing to know about Skylar Mendoza, it was that she had never said ‘I love you’ to anyone. Not because she was straying away from it, or because she was afraid, but simply because she had never been in love, or had someone to say it to. Strange, given that she was probably one of the most open and prone to falling in love -- with life, with existence, with people. And yet... she’d said it to Emery Gaiser, who was nowhere near ready to hear something of the sort, nor did she think he would reciprocate. But after months on end of shamelessly being around each other enough to have a relationship but not enough to get over their ways of life and just put a label on it or even openly talk about their feelings, Skylar let it slip past the smudged lipstick while her breath reeked of pepper vodka, as he took care of her. And don’t get it wrong for one moment; Skylar knew exactly what she was doing. Perhaps not so much when motor skills were involved, but she knew that her heart leapt every time he walked in the room and that she felt more than she’d ever felt for anyone before. What was that, if it was not love?

Don’t be a coward, she would then say to herself, but in all those states she was sober, and liquid courage was what finally pushed her over the edge to actually voice it. It wasn’t romantic. In fact, it was a little pathetic and borderline incomprehensible given the slurred speech, but still genuine, still honest. She didn’t stay awake enough to see his reaction, but she knew that the second she woke up from a drunken slumber, with a hangover that ripped through her entire body, she just wanted to get away. And vomit, but details. And so she scooped up her things as fast as she could, tip toed to the front door and hailed the first cab she could find. And quickly decided to change her number and accept that offer for Cabo, that her dear friend Sophie tried so hard, for weeks on end, to convince her to come along. Girl had a sugar daddy, and needed some backup to meet with him. One thing led to another and sunbathing in the Mexican sun got even better when a gentleman approached her to offer her a drink. He looked nothing like the guys she used to date -- a little more seasoned (some ten years her senior to be exact), a suit and tie, radiating money and security. He was nothing like Emery. And perhaps you could’ve blamed Skye, but she took the bait. Not because she was too much into it, but because it was safe, and at the time, that was exactly what she needed.

It was easy living off of his money of course -- she didn’t have to work. But then it started getting old, faster than she would’ve anticipated. Not old enough for her to break up, but for someone as free spirited as Skylar, she needed to do something more than just sit around, drink margaritas and read fashion magazines. So she went back to work despite her significant other’s wishes not to, but who could’ve really contained a wild thing like her? And so, Skylar worked the bar, slipping back into those old shoes as if they were the most comfortable thing in the world. She needed to tone down the flirtation (she was a taken woman after all now) but she tried to stay true to herself. At least somewhat. And as Emery showed up that one night, all those weeks of detatching herself from those thoughts and feelings fell through and her heart sank. 

Swallowing once, she put on her best smile and approached the bar when he wanted to order. Stop that heart from wildly crashing against her rib cage, somehow. ‘’Honey, if you knew how many people’d seen me naked ‘round here, you’d never make that comment. Even better -- if I were truly bothered by it, I wouldn’t work here,’’ It was true; Skye was one of those women that enjoyed her life to the fullest and did what she wanted to do. She didn’t care about judgment and that was not something that would’ve hurt or deterred her from doing it. Holding a rag in one hand, she leaned with both onto the counter, in the same manner as he did. ‘’What can I get ya?’’

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

This conversation was going about as well as she imagined it would go if she ever were to run into Mateo again. Maybe it was even worse than she imagined actually. “Yeah, well, tough luck because you or Caine or Lucas don’t get to run my fucking life for me. I’m a grown-ass woman and I don’t need any of you idiots telling me what to do or where to be,” she snapped, irritation building inside her and almost reaching a boiling point. “You’re all the same with your misogynistic, toxic masculinity bullshit, you know that?” It may not have been completely fair, but she wanted so badly to hurt him as much as he was hurting her, as he kept hurting her. She was beginning to suspect that kiss they shared meant a hell of a lot more to her than it did to him. In fact, she thought it might’ve not meant much to him at all and that part of him regretted it. 

Micah listened to him talk, remaining calm as he essentially blackmailed her into calling her brother, not betraying how livid she was. Throwing her rag down on the counter with a bit too much force, she stared at him as she shouted out to the prospect. “Take over, I’m leaving.” She got out from behind the bar and headed towards the exit. “You want me gone, I’ll get my shit out right now, but I’m not calling my brother and I’m not staying with him. Fuck that and fuck you.” She pushed open the door and headed to the trailer. As soon as she was inside, she started shoving her stuff into a trash bag. She didn’t even know where she’d go, but she’d be damned if she went along with whatever plan he came up with.

Mateo knew she was pissed off, and that was exactly the scenario he wanted to avoid when he walked in the roadhouse his first evening back. In fact, that was precisely why he chose to come back in the evening, hoping that the bar itself would have been as empty as it was, minus Micah of course, and that he would get his nightcap and go to sleep, dealing with whatever he needed to deal with in the morning hours. But in her words, tough luck, because he was getting exactly the opposite. Knowing just how wild this girl could be, Mateo knew she had his hands tied -- he couldn’t just let her wander off and do whatever. He was already ridden with guilt as it was, imagine something happening to her just because she walked out on his pissed as she was and self-sabotaged, which was in the realm of possibilities. Micah was smart, and gorgeous, and fun -- but she was downright fucking crazy.

Sliding the half-assed beer bottle towards the prospect, he tapped some cash on top of the bar and told the guy to keep the change. Picking up the duffle bag in a hurry, Mateo headed for the back exit, after Micah herself. ‘’Don’t be fuckin’ stupid,’’ He raised his voice as he caught up to her. ‘’And don’t be dramatic. It’s not the end of the world, a’ight? There’s no need to make a scene. I know you’re unhappy with this shit but why would you ever wanna live in a shithole like this?’’ He pointed towards his trailer that stood in the same spot as ever; just a few feet away now. ‘’Yo, you listenin’?’’

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

That comment, unlike the previous ones, stung enough that she couldn’t hurt the hurt on her features. It was a reminder that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much time she spent with them, she’d never be one of them. It was a reminder of what her father had told her all her life and the reason he forgot she existed half the time. “Right,” she said, averting her gaze. “I’m good enough to serve you all, but wouldn’t want me to forget my place.” When she finally looked up at him, her face cold, she could see he regretted saying it, but it was a little too late for that. It was true. Not only that, but he had to have thought it beforehand for it to come out so spontaneously. Part of her foolishly thought he was the only one who actually could see her as something other than Caine’s little sister and someone who didn’t need protection all the time. It was obvious he’d come to his senses.

“And it won’t. I don’t see why it would. I’m serving drinks, not drugs,” she told him with a shrug, wiping the counter angrily to distract herself from the conversation. The blows didn’t stop coming, though, and him calling his help a mistake was the latest one. She cleared her throat, not wanting to show just how close she was to crossing the line from angry to sad. “It’s too late for that. You did offer and now I have nowhere else to stay.” He wouldn’t kick her out or so she hoped. “Yeah, I do. I think it became my trailer when you left without saying if you’d be back. As far as I knew, the place was abandoned.” 

Mateo wasn’t sure where he was going with it. All he knew is that he spoke his mind for once, and that it clearly ended up hurting her. She could pretend all she wanted... he knew better. He should’ve also known better than to speak to her how he spoke to the people he didn’t care about that annoyed him. Because although she could be annoying, Micah definitely was not someone Mateo didn’t care about. And perhaps that was the part that stung him. ‘’Listen...’’ He started off. ‘’I didn’t say that. All I’m sayin’... is that as much as you know your way around all of this shit, you shouldn’t be surrounded by it. That’s all your brother ever wanted to explain to you. That’s why he can be harsh on you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt, and I get that,’’ He explained, trying to maintain the calm composure as much as that was possible given the tension. After almost getting Rose killed, something that stuck to him like a nasty scab from an old wound that just wouldn’t fall off, Mateo really didn’t want to see any other woman in his life get to that point. It was her life that he wanted to preserve, but her emotions he had no reign over.

‘‘Listen, Micah,’‘ He leaned in, scratching his temple as he paused to rearrange his thoughts. ‘‘I’m not here to argue with you. I don’t care if you used the trailer or not, I wasn’t here. But now that I am, it’s over, you gotta call your brother and go over to his place or somethin’. If you don’t, I will call him for you,’‘ He didn’t mean for it to sound like a blackmail, but he was firm in his belief that he didn’t want her around. Not because he didn’t care to see her and be in her presence -- quite the opposite, she would’ve been a balm to that same wound, but it didn’t make sense, it had no future, it was going nowhere. So why prolong something like that? ‘‘We can go over to the trailer for you to pick up your things and then I’ll give you a ride or whatever.’‘

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

“Maybe I don’t feel like doing the dirty work. Isn’t that what prospects are for? Doing all the stuff other people don’t feel like doing?” She asked with a roll of her eyes, just wanting to contradict him at this point. Also, she didn’t really want to be alone with him. “At least he won’t leave without saying goodbye right. I’m pretty sure he would stick around if I decided to kiss him.” Was she giving him a hard time? Probably. Did he deserve it? She felt like he absolutely did. She chuckled when he asked about her presence here, remembering he hadn’t been around when all that drama went down. Caine obviously made a huge deal about it, as did Lucas, but Micah did as she pleased and they were forced to deal with it when she kept showing up and serving drinks despite their protests. “Since I quit Pravda. Didn’t really feel like being there much after everything. Go figure, right?” He was largely to blame for that one, she wasn’t sure if he’d realize that. Angelica became this constant reminder of the boys she kept losing out on. “I think my presence here does wonders for the place. Tones down all the ugly and toxic masculinity.”

She was a little taken aback by his tone but tried not to let it show. “I know enough,” she snapped back, glaring at him. She hated that they were always trying to protect her, to hide her from their daily lives. “I can live in this climate just fine. You didn’t seem worried about me being here when you offered me a place to stay. I can handle myself. I know where the gun’s hidden.” She knew how to use it too, it was one of the first and only things her father had taught her. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Clearly, you’re doing just fine,” she said coldly, obviously bitter. “The trailer? I’m still staying there. Kind of took over the place really. The sleeping arrangement we had isn’t gonna work anymore.”

‘‘Not your stuff,’‘ Mateo was there to remind her. Females could never be a part of the club, even though Micah somewhat already was. That was what happened when you grew up among the club members. But then, he realized that his tone of voice might’ve been a little too harsh, she definitely was not deserving of it. She was difficult to handle, but she  didn’t deserve the treatment she was getting from him. Sucking in a deep breath, his facial features softened, at least somewhat. Just because Mateo himself felt exhausted and frankly, mad for no reason, didn’t mean he could’ve taken it out on her. In fact, he shouldn’t have, even if he could. He didn’t want to look up to her once Pravda was mentioned; they never discussed what happened when they kissed, but he knew better than to just assume it was nothing. He felt it for her as much as she felt something for him, but he had a mission to fulfill and that didn’t include her. He managed to probably fuck up a good thing without even making a decision per se. Or did he, make a decision that was? By choosing the club’s business first, as he always did? Most likely. 

He stared at the condensation on the beer bottle on the bar, thinking about her words. ‘’You may think you know, but once you stare down the barrel of the gun things change. And that shouldn’t happen to you,’’ He pointed out, knowing that for any of the enemies they were to make, Micah would be a prime target for blackmail. That was a huge weakness for the club. ‘’I made a mistake--’’ He continued. ‘’Lucas was right, Caine too. I shouldn’t have let you live with me, not even while trying to help you. There’s plenty of people who could’ve helped,’’ He almost scoffed. The only real reason he offered, if he was being entirely honest with himself, was because he was so curious about the attractive blonde that he didn’t seem harm in it. ‘’So what, you live in my trailer now?’’

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

Micah couldn’t help the annoyance she felt at seeing Mateo dismiss the prospect in such a laidback manner, without even a glimpse at him. Not annoyance towards him, but towards herself, because god help her she found it unbearably hot. “He was helping me, you know. Are you going to get behind the bar and serve drinks with me? Wipe down the counter?” She asked him, knowing the answer to that already. The VP of the Dark Skulls wouldn’t clean any counters. Plus, she also didn’t trust herself alone with him too much. The chemistry between them was still very much present and added tension didn’t help matters any. “A hug? So you can turn around, get on your motorcycle and leave Wilmington again?” Maybe it wasn’t fair, but him leaving after their kiss wasn’t fair either. She didn’t feel like pulling any punches right now. “You’re lucky you’re not getting a drink thrown at you in front of all your prospects slash minions, so don’t push your luck.”

The blonde scoffed, looking up at him finally when he questioned what she knew about what he did. “You realize I grew up around all of this, right? That my father was one of you and now my brother is too. I know exactly what it takes to be a Dark Skull.” She also knew she didn’t have it, but that was another story altogether and not the point right now. “Time off is fine, but have you ever heard of a little something called a text? It was real nice staying up all night and wondering if you were okay.” He’d have a surprise when he went back to his trailer, she had kind of taken over the entire space. “I hope you know you’re sleeping on the couch tonight because there’s no way in hell I’m sharing a bed with you.”

‘‘Nothin’ he could’ve done you already don’t know how to do. And the bar’s empty,’‘ He pointed at their surroundings. ‘‘So if you’d rather some half-assed fresh outta highschool boy hold a candle to your conversations, then by all means, invite him back,’’ Mateo shrugged. He didn’t care for the most part at least, but he knew better than to let prospects hear just about everything around them Trust needed to be built first. ‘’Since when are you servin’ drinks and wipin’ counters, anyway?’’ A small, but curious frown flashed in between his eyebrows as he realized what she was doing. Not that it was anything too out there, but he was surprised Caine would’ve allowed that. Not because Micah couldn’t do it elsewhere unless given permission, she just couldn’t do it at this specific bar. In fact, last he remembered was both Caine and Lucas giving him grief for helping her and giving her a place to stay in his trailer. Some of the very small list of reasons was that they didn’t want her so close to the hot zone, as if she hadn’t grown up around it, anyway. But it wasn’t his place to judge, so he backed off. He wouldn’t have gone against the will of his brothers, either way.

‘‘You don’t know shit,’‘ He responded, a little snappier than he probably would have before all that bullshit with Angelica went down. He was still somewhat scarred from it, the past history with his father and her mother still ever so present in and around Mateo, still reeling from the whole ordeal. ‘‘And just because you grew up somewhere doesn’t make you capable of livin’ in this climate. You might not realize it, but you were sheltered growin’ up. You think your brother is just a little bitch for not lettin’ you do some stuff around here that you wanna do? Think again. He’s doin’ it to protect you. And for a reason, shit around here is gettin’ worse with each passin’ day.’‘ Flicking off a beer bottle cork, he looked back up to her again. ‘‘You don’t gotta worry about me.’‘ He shrugged, but a little flash of confusion went over his face again. ‘‘What are you talkin’ about?’‘

[macheriewrites]

micahpriors‌:

Micah’s life was seriously going downhill. It seemed like her breakup with Sean had been just the first of many blows and the hits just kept on coming. Much to her brother’s annoyance, her latest awful decision (bad according to him) was quitting her job at Pravda to work at the bar where the Dark Skulls hung out, something she always promised herself she’d never do. Desperate times, right? Who could blame her for not being able to bare stepping foot inside Pravda after all the shit that went down there? Not even counting the drama with the club, Angelica and her had shared now one, but two boys now. She didn’t need a constant reminder that all the men in her life kept choosing other people over her. First Sean then Mateo. Just when she thought she could see herself with him, she got the rug swept out from under her. It was bad enough to see them together, but nothing compared to finding the trailer empty and him gone without so much as a note to say goodbye. To say she had grown a bit bitter over the past few months was an understatement really.

As per usual, the blonde was doing the inventory in the back while the bar wasn’t crowded and had sent a prospect in her place to serve the few people that were there. Everything was going according to plan until the moment she left the backroom and joined him behind the bar, shooing him away before her eyes landed on Mateo. She froze, watching him for a few seconds while she figured out how exactly she felt about his return. Mostly anger, she figured out. Her features turned cold, something that few people got to witness, and she immediately busied herself with cleaning that didn’t need to be done. “Look who’s back. Did running away get boring?” She asked him over the counter, not meeting his eyes. “Or did you finally remember you forgot to leave a note?”

Mateo knew he left a few loose ends when he left. Nora, for example, and Micah. Without even realizing, he had gotten himself into a situation with not two, but three women including Angelica, without even trying to go there. After Rose, he figured that shit isn’t worth it. Having to worry about their wellbeing while trying to maintain loyalty to the club and loyalty to a woman -- it was a combination that really did not go well together and that just happened to cause a lot of issues for him. So to avoid a fatal outcome, Mateo shrunk into himself for the most part, at least emotionally, and somehow ended up in a completely opposite end of the spectrum. He didn’t feel like he made the bad choices on purpose -- he really was not the player type, but sitting there with Micah, in his trailer, sharing some legitimate hard-hitting thoughts and experiences... it was hard not to see or feel the connection was there. And the chemistry... even harder to ignore. Maybe the distance he had created, of his own accord, was bound to help that situation... or maybe it made it even worse. One thing he was certain about, however, it was that Micah was not going to take kindly to his sudden departure. And he was right.

Releasing a tired sigh, he locked eyes with her only to be met with cold he normally wouldn’t have seen, not from Micah of all people. It spoke volumes, but he didn’t have the energy to really think it through. Or maybe he didn’t want to. He had a feeling he had given a lot of himself to everyone around him, but himself, and that exhausted him. ‘’Beat it,’’ He muttered out to the prospect at the bar, not wanting him to listen in to the conversation, regardless of it being a public place. ‘’What, I don’t get a hug?’’ Obviously, the feeble attempt at a joke probably fell a little flat, but he didn’t mind. A hug was the last thing he was expecting, anyway. Taking another sip of the bear, Mateo shrugged. ‘’I needed some time off. Bein’ around here is a full time job, in case you missed that part,’’ He responded. 

[macheriewrites]

Just a single duffle bag on his shoulder, Mateo didn’t really carry all that much with him. He also hadn’t showered in at least two days, but who was counting? It seemed like his days on the road stretched into nothingness for the most part-- time was not of the essence for once and there was nothing to think or worry about. It was a welcomed change from all those months of constant stressing over the streets, over his boys, over the plan with Angelica, over everything. It was one thing pulling a trigger on a gun over someone who was out to get him, but it was a completely different thing premedidating someone’s demise. Emotional over physical proved to have been even worse. And so, he was never going to forget the look in her eyes when he delivered the final blow and got her to leave town. It was cemented in his mind for good, and quickly enough, he realized that no matter how far he was going to run from the crime scene, he could never run away. Not when, despite what he thought of Angelica as a person, he was responsible for reeling her in, making her fall in love, and then breaking her heart. All with the goal of saving the M.C. Getting her to realize her father was the bad guy. Despite the plan working, he still felt like shit. But... ultimately, it was time to go back.

And so, he dropped the duffel back at his feet at the side of the bar and ordered himself a beer. He picked the least busy time on purpose; he was exhausted and didn’t have the time to get rowdy with the boys. Mateo exchanged a few words with the bartender, it seemed to have been some new guy -- a prospect, which was even easier on Mateo. He didn’t have to explain, just point to his patch to shut him up. And so, he welcomed that first sip of the familiar beer like it was god sent. @priorsmicah​

[macheriewrites]

sierramused‌:

              “Do you want me to answer that honestly, sweetheart?” It was an unintentional dig, mediocre and a little bland for his taste, but it was something that rolled off the tip of his tongue naturally. The sarcastic venom in his words seemingly uncontrollable when it came to Nikki, but the man simply couldn’t help himself. Not when it came to her, in all sense of the word. Once upon a time, the straight to the point gangster fell weak at the knees for the blonde beauty and would bend over backwards at her command — back then it was worth it, it didn’t matter what the cost was or what the demand seemed to be, the love was worth it. Now? The idea just made his stomach churn with disgust. It was almost as though he was sick with himself that he could have even allowed himself to grow so weak for her back then, but that was just his bitter tongue lashing back at him. The only thing giving his sarcastic ass a hint of satisfaction was the look of bewilderment on her face. Nikki was a decent showgirl, but she had always been a horrible actor. At least, when it came to him. His hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans on the left side while the right moved up to tickle down the front of his neck, starting at his chin. 

                 He was here on business. That was it, that was the pressing matter. While he had time to mix a bit of pleasure in with the trip, he certainly did not have time to get wrapped up with this little hellion all over again. Still… he couldn’t exactly resist when it just happened to run into her. “Looks like you’ve been slacking on your hiding places, darlin’. You still got my wallet on ya?”

Nicole Sanders was not a stupid woman. She was uneducated and for the lack of the better word, trashy, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew when to shut up, she knew when to run and hide. In fact, she had perfect the art of it over the years. So much so, that the chances of ‘running into’ any of her former lovers that she had so royally messed up was very, very low. She would’ve made sure of it. But what was that bit about it being a small world out there? Paranoid as she was, she had a hard time believing this was a coincidence. Once upon a time she had Shane’s heart in the palm of her hand and she very well crushed it with a single clench of her fist, knowingly placing another target on her back. And call it self destructive, but something about that life attracted her to no end. It was all fun and games until shit hit the fan... which was what was happening right now.

Did he actually track her down? Did he want revenge, like her ex did? She couldn’t blame him for it, but she still did. After all, Nikki had always felt like the world owed her something. And so, when every fiber of her very being wanted to tell him off, in a familiar fashion of Nikki Sanders, she knew that it was better to run instead. Fighting off the desire to tell him an equally sarcastic remark, Nikki saw her way to the door and took a run for it, through the sweaty crowd of people who complained against her sudden shoves. She needed to get out of there before it was too late to save herself.

[macheriewrites]

nitrohelium‌:

Ex-King Silver still left a bitter taste in Serge’s mouth. The band, the sold-out concert halls and rocking on stage with his brothers was always his dream, and to know he played a big role in its downfall was still a fresh wound despite being sober for the past year. Year in and out of his same bullshit, in and out of rehab and the boys’ patience wore thin with each of them leaving in turn. His own best friend decided to leave the band for good to pursue a life back in Wilmington with the woman he loved, and Serge was hit with sinking realization that everyone was growing up and settling down instead of spending nights in foreign hotel rooms and strip bars. Los Angeles, with all its comforts and temptations, was the furthest away from Wilmington, but he always preferred the rough edges of New York city. People were honest to a fault, instead of the plastic facade in the Orange County, and it was something he could appreciate. In New York anything was possible, even for a washed up rockstar restarting his career as a solo musician.

The sounds of his guitar came over the speakers as he gave it a quick tune, about to begin the first few bars of a song he wrote for his father. The song was an honest look at the fraught relationship he had with the Reverend, but reflective in the ways he sang his apology through the chorus. It wasn’t a secret how complicated their relationship was; there were plenty of interviews Serge gave over the origin of many of his songs and quotes he had said half-drunk and still angry at the older Halliwell. But things changed after funeral – something about the fact that was a little too late, a theme that underscored most of Serge’s life lately and what he thought about Wilmington. Beyond his mother, his sister and a few old friends, there wasn’t a reason to return to Wilmington when he now lived a few hours away… and he was certain there wasn’t any need to rehash the past with a certain blonde who treated him as a near stranger. 

Rightly so. It was better to let bygones be bygones without him making another fuckery of how their lives intertwined. He was sober now for a year, but could he truly blame the alcohol and the drugs? Serge was still the man he was; toeing a dangerous line and taking whatever he wanted – which at the moment, with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a guitar on his lap, was the pretty little brunette leaning across the stage in front of him. “Gav? Yeah, gotta turn up the bass on this a little. We want the place humming like a livewire when the drums kick in,” he drawled out over the microphone, shooting a smirk at the brunette as he pulled the cigarette away with a puff. “Gotta get gorgeous girls like you up and dancing, y’know? We can’t afford a fuckin’ dull show around these parts.” 

Call it fate, or just the greatest misfortune, but just hearing the fist syllables he spoke in that mic had her thrown off. She would’ve recognized that voice anywhere, anytime. And out of all the gin joints... Holding that iPad, her hands were a little shaky as a huge part of her wanted to try as hard as humanly possible to pretend that it was all in her head. Had to be, right? Something about New York City in particular, the club atmosphere and the overall mood seemed to have been a foundation for the flashbacks; and boy, were there many of those. Aubrey could have acted on false pretenses of course, but memories were a different thing. Buried feelings were even worse. All of the sleepless nights with just one text and three words ‘I need you’ were enough for her to hop on a flight to the Big Apple and do what any girl, hopelessly in love, would have done. Help her man be the best version of himself. That was the only thing she knew how to do in those years, anyway.

But that was just the thing-- Serge Halliwell was not her man. He was a rockstar, a hearthrob, wayward preacher’s son and many things in between, but she never could really connect to those visions of him. Aubrey always saw him as so much more, despite the mistakes he was making, wrecking and wasting his life away like it was nothing important. There was a time she believed she would have always been there, no matter what. There was nothing he could have said or done to deter her from having her in his life. Until there was. Years went on, a pair of silly high school kids grew into different people, polar opposites, with almost nothing in common. Nothing but one thing, that was -- a single string of unresolved, overwhelming can of feelings neither of them had ever dared open, but that kept them somehow bound to each other, even when on the opposites end of the world. And some would have thought that it was a beautiful love story that ought to have had a happy ending, but real life was much more tragic than that. 

And so, standing there in the little black dress with blonde highlighted strand of hair getting in her face, Aubrey blinked and realized she was barely breathing, because it was him. In all his glory with a cigarette hanging from his lips and a smirk to die for, it was impossible not to have her heart flutter, because it always did. But what was she to do? Approach and pretend nothing was wrong? The way they left things off-- time and time again-- giving her just enough to reel her back in and leaving her hanging, thinking about him for months on end, unable to move on because of that tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe... things would work out this time around, but never actually reaching that momentum. ‘’Hey, boss!’’ Someone caught her attention because their voice echoed throughout the empty club as the guy with a big box showed up, clearly addressing her. ‘’Do you want this in the office or where?’’ They asked, snapping her out of her thoughts, causing heads to turn, even just briefly. ‘’Uh-- you can leave it in the office, thank you.’’ She responded, this time clearly knowing that, if he hadn’t seen her by that time, he must have seen her now.

[macheriewrites]

Mateo’s head was reeling. He was so deep in this Angelica shit that he hated himself for it every passing day -- today more than some other days, too. He had to look into this woman’s eyes, whisper the sweet nothings he didn’t mean, and hope to bypass the entangled web of chaos that was Angelica Lizzio’s head. Best case scenario? She believed him -- that he found something more in her, that he trusted there was this whole other, real person behind the unpenetrable wall that she had risen around herself because she had to. That was just the thing though; Mateo wanted to believe that was true. In most cases, if she was just another girl he had met -- he would have given it a shot. But now it was starting to severely mess with his head. It was hard knowing what he knew, hard to pretend without actually giving in just a little bit into the temptation of having this gorgeous woman before him, and praying that he would have her wrapped around his finger before the next snow fell. The M.C. needed it; they were getting impatient and playing the long game had never seemed so difficult before.

Mateo was of the more patient side from within the club. While a lot of them were ex cons, ex military, ex-- something, he had a pretty content childhood with no apparent trauma. It was no wonder he was able to handle most of the shit they were doing with composure many of the brothers didn’t possess. Being able to estimate a situation instead of jumping head first was what made him a suitable VP. But now, the VP was crumbling and he couldn’t really say that to anyone. He was feeling the silent pressure of them wanting him to make headway so Angelica’s people could finally stop taking their streets, they wanted back the lulled feeling of owning their town without having to worry that someone might put a hit on them when they step outside just because of the business they were doing. And he was most of all feeling the pressure of making sure Angelica fell in love, grew some legitimate feelings for him while he remained unscathed in the whole ordeal. How did he ever think this was something that he would be able to do?

Staring at the ceiling from an old, ragged and torn armchair that barely fit within the confines of his trailer, Mateo could hear Micah’s voice in the background. Talking, on and on and on -- the way she normally did, but today? It felt like she was just adding onto his already bad mood and he just wanted to be left alone. That was it. ‘’Stop,’’ He told her, almost muttering the words out. When she didn’t -- whether she heard him or not, she continued yapping, and he was growing more and more irritated. ‘’You need to stop that--’’ He added but was cut off again. She chuckled, he could tell she was trying to tease him and normally he found it endearing, but not today. ‘’Just fuckin’ stop talking for once in your goddamn life!’’ He spat the words out. She drove him up the wall and he couldn’t handle it, not today. @micahpriors 

[macheriewrites]

sierramused‌:

AND NOW I’M MISSIN’ YOUR LOVE / SHANE & NIKKI.

— @macheriewrites​.

               “Fuck,” the curse rolled off his tongue expertly, almost devilishly sweet, in classic Shane Orsino fashion as he pulled himself from the ruby red Jaguar. It was harsh enough to instill a sense of fear into his enemies all while making a woman quiver in shivers, but this time around, it was all simply due to the fact that he couldn’t stand the heat of the desert. “Wanna tell me again why Tony thought this would be the best place for his tribe?” He mused to his associate, head shaking, but that was simply Shane flicking the MC some slack while they weren’t around to hear it. He had been sent by the Italians from New York to get a job done within a two-week timeframe, having been two days in on the so called mission, but if he was going to stick around the Godforsaken state until they got word it was wrapped, he wasn’t going to do it with a dry whistle.

              So, Shane took it upon himself to let his associate take him where he had been itching to get to all day — Bourbon Heat, the bar hidden in the nook of the casino that was littered with the MC’s enemies that he had heard so much about. The enemy line between the Jesters and the Sinners hadn’t applied to him, knowing his presence was much more than just a simple rivalry between two motorcycle clubs, so his arrival was echoed when he and Angelo buttoned up their white shirt and tucked their forty-five caliber handgun against their suspenders while bypassing the security in the front.

              But there she was, Nikki fuckin’ Sanders.

              The spitfire of a blonde that sulked in the back of his mind had been one of the many faces was looking to find during his stint in the villainous city, and one that he hardly could forget even if he tried, a whistle toward the camgirl signaling his arrival and want for her attention. “What’s the special tonight? Heard this was the best place in city, or at least, that’s what some townie told me the other day on the streets while looking like a lost puppy dog.” He put on that mock grin, battling with the urge to completely wrangle her neck right then and there. He wasn’t even within five feet from her in that bar and he could already spot that crown tattoo on her skin, knowing it was an identifying mark with his club’s enemy. He briefly wondered if that was her trying to hide from him, or her ex.

Blonde locks of hair delicately falling down Nikki’s neck and hugging the petite body all the way down below her hips, she could feel the heat sticking to her skin as if it were white on the god damn rice. Being from the area, it was something Nicole Sanders was more than used to -- in fact, she only knew how to function in this hellish heat. It kind of went along with her personality -- a fiery temper, spunky, a true firecracker of a personality with a wicked sugary smile to die for and a whole lotta venom coursing through her veins. She was aware of who she was, probably hated it most of the time, but learned to accept it and carry it the best she could. Standing in front of a dirty, stained mirror in the confined restroom of the Bourbon Heat bar, she took out her red lipstick and stamped the product back onto her lips. She wasn’t packing on too much, but restroom walks were moreso breaks from the wilderness of the outside than anything else.

She could hear the girl behind her getting annoyed because she was taking her sweet time, and it only made her take some more of it. God, she couldn’t stand women. She did so much better with men -- women were jealous, envious and in Nikki’s experience, constant backstabbers. She had never had a friend that was female that didn’t end up fucking her over, and it was something that had stayed with the blonde. When she was sure that the blotting paper worked and she wasn’t shiny and gross -- at least on the outside, Nikki placed the products back into the purse and sent a wink to the clearly annoyed woman behind her. ‘’Take it easy, babe, that stress’ll give you wrinkles.’’ And with that, she was out for some more fun before she actually had to go and work back in her small studio place. A nightcap, so to speak, always helped make her feel more relaxed in front of a camera. It wasn’t like she needed much -- the attention, any attention, was something the blonde could drink on a straw and never satisfy the thirst. 

Holy shit.

She stopped in her tracks, a special kind of panic rising from the pit of her stomach. She took a panicked step back but her back hit against the bar that she didn’t even realize she was standing next to, and her eyes immediately searched for the exit. Unfortunately for her, the bar was crowded, as per usual. After the little stint she pulled on Shane, seeing him there was the last thing she hoped to have to deal with... ever. But she was starting to build a pattern -- fucking men over and then having to run from them, only she would argue that at least one of them fucked her over first. Shane, on the other hand -- while difficult for the most part, didn’t do it first, and she had all the blame thrown into her face. But it was always better, at least in Nikki’s eyes, to take that ardous step first before anyone had a chance to break a little more than just her heart. After her ex, she was done playing around with it anyway.

‘‘Do I look like a god damn bartender?’‘ She mouthed back, teeth clenching as she just wanted to get out of there.