modie x fem reader whose a high maintenance posh girl. they’re from two completely different worlds but opposites attract. he makes sure she gets her nails done, hair done, buys her lipgloss and listens to all her long stories about girl drama, watches all her girly shows with her when theyre home alone like gossip girl etc. and he’s lowkey interested in it
MODIE STEPPED THROUGH THE ENTRANCEWAY TO THE HOUSE, bags of shopping in-hand. It was just before midday, and streams of honey-bright sun were casting a yellow hue throughout the hallway. “I’m home!” he called out, the door closing behind him with a light click. He set the bags down by the windowsill, careful not to knock over the array of miniature sculptures, candles, and potted foliage. Then he stepped out of his trainers, stripping off his coat and balancing it on the rack adjacent to the door. “I’m upstairs!” you replied.
Modie practically leaped up the stairs, bags slung over his shoulder, two steps at a time. Once he found you sprawled out in bed, he practically beamed. “Got all your lipstick—“
“Lip-gloss,” you corrected, smirking. “Lip-gloss,” he repeated, a hand reaching into one of the bags to pull a few out and inspect their labels. “Fenty Beauty Gloss Bomb Universal Lip Luminizer, Fuzzy? Fussy?” he transcribed, voice overly pompous until he could no longer decipher the text. You gave him a small smile, head leaned back against the pillow. Content to simply watch his efforts. Eventually, he got bored after a minute or two, and ended up pouring them out of their bags and onto an empty space on the duvet. You tugged it towards you with a scoff, setting a few on the bedside table and unpacking one of the various lip-glosses to apply it. Immediately, he leaned in to give you a peck on the lips. One that left you giggling after. “You’ve got some on your lips,” you pointed out, cocking your head to the side, smiling with your teeth.
He didn’t wipe it off with his sleeve. “You gonna kiss it off ‘f me?”
You rolled your eyes. “I would just get more of it on you.”
He hummed. “I don’t mind. Still means I get to kiss you.” He smiled dopily, head slightly tipped forward. It almost looked as if he was batting his eyelashes at you, staring through the knit of his brow. Eyes soft. You gave in with a chuckle, trying your best to maintain your unamused demeanour. But you didn’t mind, if anything you wanted it too. He laughed softly into the kiss, tugging at your bottom lip before pulling back momentarily. He let his thumb stray across his lips, trying to wipe some of your lip-gloss off; smearing it instead.
“Here,” you snickered, leaning over him to stroke his lips and remove all trace of if on him. His arms weaved around the small of your back, tugging you closer. You were both in quiet hysterics by the time you finished doing so and reluctantly began to squirm away–allowing you to fall back down next to him in the bed.
“Who’s this?” he pointed out, casting an accusatory jab towards the flat screen tv. A brunette man was depicted across it, light dancing off of his skin. He was seemingly midway through talking before you had paused the show prior to Modie coming back home. “You would know if you were paying attention,” you pointed out. He raised his brows at you, sporting a matching grin.
“Missed the start ‘cause I was too busy buying all your fancy stuff at the shop,” he hummed, smile turning mildly smug. Modie shrugged off his jacket, shifting into the bed alongside you, then you unpaused the programme.
“She’s such a bitch,” you muttered after a few minutes. He glanced over at you, tilting his head to the side. “Who? Serena?”
You grinned at the fact he knew her name, and had been paying a decent amount of attention, but didn’t comment on it. “Yeah, don’t like her. She reminds me of this girl I used to know at school. So annoying,” you shook your head, eyes glued to the screen. Modie seemed more interested in blinking at your side profile in the mean time. “Yeah? What was she like?” he grinned, suddenly intrigued.
“Don’t,” you warned. “I could go on for days.” Instead of heeding your own warning you continued regardless, counting on your fingers as you spoke. “Every time we spoke she just sounded like she thought she was–like, above me. You know what I mean?” Modie nodded intently, head pushed against the pillow. Gossip Girl playing in the background. “Everything she said was basically the only opinion ever, like. If you didn’t agree then you were automatically a bad person according to her. Literally makes zero sense.”
“Oh, and her voice!” you groaned, shaking her head–putting on a whiny, overly-sophisticated accent. “So annoying. Don’t know how I put up with her.” Modie nodded, eyes glued on you. “Sounds it.”
modie x fem reader. he pretty much hates everyone except her, he only ever smiles at her and laughs at her jokes. they’re not together but he’s soo in love with her, she’s his soft spot and all his people know it
“AY, MODIE. YOU GOOD?” he swivelled round on the balls of his feet at the sound of his cousin’s voice. “Yeah, calm.” They both leaned in, giving one another what could usually be considered a side-hug, however more distanced than someone would usually assume, the individual stepping back as if flinching only a second later. Modie looked him up and down, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then darting out onto his lips to wet them. “Where’s the mandem at?” he asked, his head cocking to the side.
Leyton simply shrugged, hands in his pockets and looking around behind him cautiously, then at Modie once more; releasing a translucent white cloud from his lips as the cold weather swallowed his warm breath. Modie huffed, eyes darting and ears practically pricking up as he heard distant police sirens, then looked down again as he put his hood up. He heard a car coming closer, the sound of gravel being moved under the tires bringing him out of his senses, eyes drawn to the people coming out of it. Si, Dwight, Farah, and Tyrone coming out of it with nonchalant expressions, sighing as they spotted Modie who gave them a pensive grimace in return.
“How’s things on the road then?” Farah’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek, then sucked in her bottom lip as if to refrain herself, head locked over at Dwight who exhaled deeply. “Yeah it’s calm, innit,” he shrugged, Modie had the suspicion he wasn’t being wholly honest. “You dealt with the Summerhouse yutes then?” he inquired, staring at him coyly as if egging him on. Si and Tyrone looking down at the ground, just behind the pair in front. “We’re dealing with them, ‘low it,” Modie grinned, the corners of his lips coming into what could only be considered a threat: simply through a smile.
He laughed then, everyone around him exchanging glances with each other. “Why ain’t you dealing with them now?” he cocked his head to the side, coming closer to Dwight and jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest while he mumbled under his breath in the same monotone voice. “They ain’t been in ends for bare time, fam, no one knows where the fuck they are.” Modie glared at him, then at Farah who was side eyeing him, quickly averting her attention when their eyes made contact. “Then go fuckin’ find them?” Dwight huffed out his cheeks frustratingly, kissing his teeth and raising his hands in mock surrender. “A’ight safe.”
Modie nodded, in what someone might have assumed to be appreciation, however it was more-so relief he wouldn’t have to do it himself. Then his brows knit together tightly in concern, like a thought had just resurfaced in his memory. “What ‘bout Jamie ‘n’ that fat donny?” they all glared at him, hesitant expressions etched across their faces. Farah’s mouth fell agape and Modie scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “Why you lot acting bare buki?”
“They’ve been runnin’ the fields while you were locked up, innit,” Farah stated, and Modie could have almost laughed. “Those two?” he grinned, the corners of his eyes wrinkling up, hissing softly under his breath as his left eye winced under the pressure from the burn wound. He scrunched his face up momentarily, running a hand hesitantly across it and narrowing his eyes as if to ease the pain; he turned away from everyone, then looked back – blinking rapidly, trying to soothe the pain.
“You want sum’ for that, fam?” Leyton cocked his head to the side, like he was trying to comfort his cousin. “Fuck off, what they’re saying true, yeah? You been lettin’ those two run ends?” Leyton nodded dumbly. “They–” Modie rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “A’ight, don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it. Jamie thinks he’s top boy now, yeah?” he nodded at the group of people in front of him. “You think he is?” no one even responded, not one single movement from their heads to suggest otherwise. A simple shake of their head, or a nod, would have sufficed for Modie.
“How are they gonna get rid of the Summerhouse problem then, yeah? You think Jamie’s gonna fuckin’ take care of Sully?” he scoffed. “Bell Jamie, tell him come meet here. Wanna talk with this yute.” Dwight took his phone out, poking digits into the screen as Modie keenly watched him. “Ay, I said bell him, yeah?” Dwight huffed, pushing the phone to his ear. “Speaker, blud.” Then he held out the phone screen for everyone to see, volume up, Jamie’s number popping up onto the screen next to the words ‘ringing’.
Modie glared down at the screen, watching it with a severe determination, like he had something to prove. “Yute won’t even pick up for his own mandem, what makes you think he’s gonna step up against man like Sully?” he chuckled softly under his breath, leaning back up to his full height and pulling his hood back down across his shoulders.
“Modie, is that you?” a voice sounded from down the alleyway. He turned so fast he almost got whiplash, eyes suddenly softening out of his control as he watched you recognise his face while he turned around, a grin spreading across your face as you strolled up to him. “You busy?” you looked at the people surrounding him, the phone that was ringing prior now stuffed in Dwight’s pocket. He caught your gaze and shook his hands around, as if you were misunderstanding the current situation. “Nah, nah. I’m calm, you need sum’?” he asked, looking down at you, the hardened expression he previously embellished across his features disappearing.
You shook your head with a coy smile. “These your friends?” you gestured to the group, whom he glared at distastefully, eyes boring into each of their skulls individually. “Oh, hi Leyton!” you said cheerfully, giving him a small wave. “Yeah, these are my– friends,” he stated, nonchalant and biting his lips. “What’ve you done to your eye?” you said curiously, Modie looked away, shifting the left side of his face away from your view and then tugging onto the small of your back – leading you away from the group and into a secluded area just a small walk away. “You okay?” you inquired as he looked behind him, paranoid even, his hand still on the small of your back which he retracted without saying a word. He felt the warmth radiating off of your body, the touch of your skin still lingering on his palm.
He decided then and there that he was being too obvious with his feelings towards you, that the people just a few metres behind him would catch on to it and use you against him; but if anything, he was more frightened of you finding out about his opinion of you – he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you. Something about you deserving better than him, at least that’s what he told himself. “Yeah, I’m calm. Don’t need to worry about me,” he gave you a downturned smile in return, tilting his head down to look at you. A hand coming up to softly touch the skin around the wounds on his face, not even skimming it, just caressing the area around it and he could swear you were healing him. “What d’ you do to it, then?” you repeated. “Cookin’ ‘n’ tha’, you know how bad I am at it,” he lied, quietly huffing while exhaling through his nostrils. He doubted you would buy his story, especially since it didn’t add up with the fact he was across televisions all around the country, labelled as a wanted prisoner on the loose.
You just nodded, nothing more, nothing less. “You gonna get it checked out then?” Modie shook his head, the lower half of his face scrunching up as he spoke. “Nah, it’ll be fine in a few.” You nodded reassuringly, hands still pressing soft embraces against his cheek, nose, and forehead. “How’ve you been?” he asked, almost murmuring it as if to not disrupt your movements across his face. You shrugged, tucking your bottom lip in. “Same old same old.” He wet his lips, eyes drawn to your eyes while yours were fixated on the hands across his face; he liked it this way, he knew you did so anyway – him looking at you, while you didn’t look at him. He liked the lack of exposure to it all, the vulnerability – he wouldn’t know what to do if you looked at him in the way he imagined he looked at you.
You stepped back then, Modie still attaching his eyes to your figure. “See you later then, I guess?” he nodded, waving you off as you went down the pathway and past the group of people Modie had discarded, giving them all a polite smile and a wave. Everyone knew he had a soft spot for you, but they knew they had better keep it to themself or face the consequences for it.
IT SEEMED AS IF NOTHING WAS GOING HIS WAY, even the weather; crisp air biting and nipping at the cut on his cheek, a sharp sting coming from it when the wind blew at his face. It was nine sixteen, somewhere in north-east London, he didn’t know where – Dushane just gave him an address and he drove over with Dris in the passenger seat, listening to him complaining about Erin being home alone. Sully eventually found the building he assumed they were staying in, and strolled up to it, eyeing two pedestrians walking on the other side of the road. The street lights flooded yellow shadows around him, he walked past it to the door with Dris tailing behind.
“Took your time, bruv,” Dushane shook his hand and gave him a side hug, doing the same with Dris as they made themselves acquainted in the decrepit building, Sully collapsing onto a sofa and spreading himself out onto it for comfort. He sighed deeply, there were various people gathered around the room, some youngsters even being there which was untypical. Everyone was decked out in black puffer jackets, only Jaq had her hood down, hands stilled in her pockets as she watched him and Dris be introduced to the room with a slight frown.
“What we doin’ then?” he glared at Dushane. “Fuck you mean what we doin’ Sully, take a guess,” he kissed his teeth and looked around the room, half-torn curtains flailing about in front of the window. He glared at one of the people in the back of the room, a black balaclava adorning their face. “Yo, what are you wearing a bali for, stupid yute,” he shouted, half-chuckling to himself at their apparent stupidity. They narrowed their eyes at him, staring right back. “Sully, calm down, fam. Leave her be,” he looked away, addressing everyone’s attention to the table in the centre of the room and jabbing a finger at it. “Listen, yeah, this is where we’re all gonna meet from now on. But don’t be stupid ‘n’ come in through the front entrance, go through the back ‘n’ only when you need to be here. Yeah?” people nodded, grumbling affirmations and their own understandings at him.
“What’s going on with Jaime then?” someone asked, Dushane contorted his face up as if disgusted by what they just said. “Don’t worry about Jaime, he’s just a yute. Worry about yourself,” he announced, his eyes searching around the room for whoever asked. There were a good twenty people crammed into the room, Sully was just surprised no one had nicked the seat he was sitting in before, though word had probably gotten around that he had told someone before to move off of one before, to say politely, it was more so a threat involving the gun stashed in the front of his jeans. “If it’s not an emergency or something that ain’t important, just meet in ends, don’t be stupid about it,” Dushane continued. “If I catch you here tryna waffle about what you’re doing, won’t end well for you, trust me,” he enunciated.
People nodded around the room, but out of the corner of his eye Sully could still see the masked individual giving him a dirty look. They were, as he described before, wearing a black puffer jacket like everyone else – must have been a new trend amongst the youngers – a black bali, with a matching black baseball cap, hands stuffed in their pockets – or her, as revealed by Dushane – must’ve been one of Jaq’s mates or some gyal Dushane was linking. Dushane was too boujee about his women, this one clearly wasn’t, Jaq’s mate it is. He glared at her momentarily, looking her up and down. Only her eyes were revealed, piercing into the side of Sully’s skull, maybe she was just thick or a junkie.
“A’ight, now get out. Don’t tell anyone ‘bout this place, yeah?” everyone ushered their way out except for Sully who was still lounging on the chair, Jaq, Dushane, and Dris, who was now smoking. Dushane tilted his head at him, ignoring the flow of teenagers beside him going out the door. “Yo, Dris. You taken your meds today?” he just nodded, Dushane smacked the cigarette out of his mouth and stood on it. “Stop takin’ other shit then.” Dris rolled his eyes, staring at the stamped out cigarette on the floor. “Fuckin’ dickhead,” he mumbled, Sully laughed, his eyes locked on the people still leaving until he noticed a necklace hanging around the masked woman’s neck, he frowned, recognising it and subtly pouting to himself. Then he saw the matching bracelet on her wrist, he stood up immediately, shouting at her while she was halfway out the door. “Yo, come ‘ere,” he flicked his head at her, she looked down and exhaled deeply, walking up to him without saying a word.
He looked down at her, at the necklace, different coloured links going round her neck and ending in the middle with a seashell; the same one he had bought before for his you. He was originally going to ignore it, being realistic to himself it was just a necklace, probably only cost one quid from a beachside shop. Maybe he was making a mistake entirely, he just wanted to make sure. Maybe she had stolen it from you. He remembered you pleading with him to get a matching necklace, and he just scoffed at you, grinning.
“I don’t like necklaces,” he had said, smiling at you while you looked up at him with pleading eyes, then held out a bracelet. “That’s why I got you this,” you had said, it was the exact same, but small enough to fit around someone’s wrist. He rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Please, Sully, come on. It would suit you, wanna remember this day don’t you?” the corner of his eyes crinkled, looking away and placing a hand over his head, then slipped the necklace on his wrist with thinned lips as you celebrated, dancing around in the sand in front of him. Of course he wanted to remember that day, it haunted his dreams and his nightmares so much that he woke up in cold sweats with visions of you sleeping beside him. Once he rubbed his eyes and cleared his vision you were no longer there. He had only given you the bracelet when he left to stop the nightmares, at least that’s what he told himself, he didn’t tell you anything. Just left it on your bedside table while you slept, unaware of him being there at all keeping in mind it was three in the morning and he had just broken into the house through an open window.
He had wondered if you always kept a window open for him, somewhere. In case you wanted him to come back. “Where’d you get the necklace ‘n’ bracelet?” he interrogated, she said nothing. “Why you wearing a hat inside too?” he criticised, still nothing. “Ay, what’s wrong with this bitch?” he stared at Dushane who looked at him as if he had something to say, but didn’t want to. He turned to Jaq. “Who is this yute?” he questioned her, she just shook her head, shrugging and looking at Dushane. “Why’s no one talking, ay?” he kissed his teeth. “Dickheads,” then pulled her into a separate room, still saying nothing. “Take off your bali,” she shook her head. “Hey, I said take it the fuck off.” She finally made an audible noise, kissing her teeth and tilting her head up at him, taking the baseball cap off and stuffing it in the back pocket of her tracksuit bottoms.
Then peeled off the balaclava bit by bit. Sully stared at you in shock, his eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed, half-pushing you against the wall of the room and locking the door best he could. You shoved him back, throwing the cap and the balaclava down onto the floor. “Why you so rude, man?” he furrowed his brows at you, his bottom lip tucked in. “I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” it was you, he couldn’t believe his own eyes, he knew he recognised the jewellery. He just couldn’t comprehend that his girlfriend – if you were still calling yourself that – was now in this industry, the one thing he didn’t want to happen, the one reason why he left in the first place.
“You fuckin’ left, Sully. What was I supposed to do?” he ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply, murmuring profanities under his breath that gradually gained in volume. “Why here?” he hissed, his hands on your shoulders. “Why are you doing this?” he almost growled out, a rasp in his voice, you just kissed your teeth. “I dunno Sully, why’d you leave?” you continued, jabbing a finger at his chest while he looked away. “There’s your fuckin’ answer for you,” he sighed deeply, stepping back and basically kneeling onto the floor with his hands covering his face. He had loved you, present tense, he loves you, he will always love you; but this was overstepping the mark and you knew it. He couldn’t even imagine comparing you to the woman he left with his daughter a year ago, now you were decked out as he never even knew you, as if you were like him. He didn’t want you to be anything like him. You dreamed of a white picket fence life in a two-bedroom flat, you didn’t know what he dreamed of. That’s the problem, what did men like Sully dream of?
“Née, you have to go,” he reprimanded, not even looking at you. “Please, just go, it’s not worth it.” You looked down at him with a cruel glint in your eye, lip threatening to start quivering as you faced the man who left you. “What’s not worth it? What’s changed, Sully?” he looked up at you with a disappointed expression, his facial features hardened with an unbecoming guilt, as if he caused this, a corruption of something so pure. The whole point of him leaving last year was to keep you safe from a rival gang that was so very close to ending his own life, what was stopping them from using you as leverage? He couldn’t help himself, he needed to leave for your sake, of course he didn’t want to – he was selfish like that – but he had to, and yet the consequences of his actions got you into even more danger. “You were fine with doing this shit all those years before, when I said it wasn’t worth it,” you tore through him, adding to your argument.
“It’s different, it’s not like that, Née. It’s not that simple, you know that,” he mumbled. “Don’t fucking call me Née,” you sharply declared, both of you in silence, staring at each other until Sully returned to looking at the floor, staring at the dust residue beneath you and him – there was no more you and him – he held in a tingling sob threatening to escape through his mouth and nose. “What was I meant to say to tell Josie, huh?” you blinked at him, anger overcoming your senses and you had to hold yourself back from letting it do so, you had experience doing so in the last year. “What was I meant to tell our daughter,” you repeated. “When she asks me ‘where’s daddy’?” Sully was glad he was hiding his face from you, ashamed, as his eyes turned wet at the mention of his daughter, gulping back a wail, or a scream.
“Where’s daddy, huh?” you shook your head down at him, lip curling up as if you were about to cry, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away without him seeing. You sniffled. “Sorry, baby. Daddy left ‘cause he’s too much of a fuckin’ pussy to stand up for himself ‘n’ his family, huh?” you shoved his shoulder again, he remained unmoving. “Why’d you fuckin’ leave, Sully?” you shouted. “Babe, I was gonna come back, I just needed time,” he mumbled his excuses, standing back up with gleaming eyes, you didn’t even correct his word of endearment, just shook your head at him with trembling lips, screwing your face up. “What was I meant to do? Wait for you? How long? Let me ‘n’ your daughter starve?” he shook his head dumbly at you.
“You didn’t put food on the fucking table, Sully. This is me stepping up for our daughter, so fuck off ‘n’ leave me be,” you leaned down and grabbed the balaclava and hat off of the floor, dusting it off with your shirt, stretching it out. He watched you unlock the door and leave, and opened his mouth, he didn’t even remember what came out of his mouth but all that it was met with was silence.
A few moments passed as he just stared blankly at the open door, then went through it, the group of people from earlier darting their eyes over at him as he came out through the door you just went through. “What, blud?” he narrowed his eyes at Dushane interrogatively. “Nothing, brudda,” he kissed his teeth, watching as Sully peeled back the curtains to watch you crossing the road with your headphones on. “Why’d you let her join, you fuckin’ wasteman?” Dushane raised his hands in mock surrender. “Listen, fam. She needed some p’s, we’re just helping her out, you know what I’m saying.” He glared at him, and then at the two other people in the room. “Fuck off,” he mumbled, walking towards the stairs and pulling his phone out his pocket.
ONCE SULLY REACHED HIS NEWFOUND BED, if you could even call it that, it was like as if he had never left you both; the ringing in his ears was accompanied by giggles of his daughter, and when he closed his eyes he could see her with her arms outstretched, reaching towards him – but he was out of reach. He woke up in the night in a cold sweat, running a hand over his face, visions of you and Josie being subject to the tortures of this industry, blood smearing her face while she giggled and clapped at him, while you were pointing a gun at him, a drugged out expression on your face.
He exhaled deeply, marching his way to the downstairs sink, pushing his head around to splash water all over his face, running his hands through the cold stream and flicking the droplets onto his face. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, stuffed half-hazardly in there, and flicked through his photos of you. One of you, him, and Josie all in the photo together, he was holding her up on his shoulder while you held onto his arm, gleaming at the camera with a cheesy smile; another being of you holding out your hand towards the camera — he had just got the phone and had wanted to try it out, you, however, disagreed, claiming ‘you looked bad in the morning’ and so he had been chasing you all around your flat for a good ten minutes for a photo of you until he accepted that this was the best he would get.
The palm of your hand was blocking the camera, and it blurred out most of the photo, however in the top left corner he could see your grinning face tilted in his direction. It was one of the only photos he had of you in the morning, the others were mostly of you sleeping, blissfully aware of what he was doing in those early hours. He sighed deeply, wiping his eyes, and checking his messages with you – he had blocked you, but he hadn’t deleted your contact – the last being you asking what he was getting for dinner, unaware of the thoughts racing through his head at that current moment.
He debated for a good minute on what message to send, you probably weren’t going to see it anyway seeing as it was three in the morning, and most likely you had blocked him in retaliation. He deleted the message he typed out, swiping off of the messages screen and staring at his black phone screen in silence. Memories of you and Josie came in waves, mostly at night. He didn’t believe in God, but if he did, this was probably his doing in an attempt to punish him for leaving you both, for his sins. Would God punish you?
He stood upright, previously hunched over the sink with water dripping down his face and hands onto the floor, going back upstairs to try and find the room where Dushane would be laying low for a few days. He was sleeping on his side, thin cover only over most of his legs, the rest of it drooped down onto the floor. He had a sudden urge to pick it up, tuck him in like he had done previously with Josie, but he didn’t. Get it together. Jaq was at her girlfriend’s or her own flat, and Dris was at his with Erin by now. Sully checked his watch, then down at Dushane’s sleeping body. He shook him.
“Yo,” Dushane grumbled in return, tucking his arm under his torso and wetting his lips. “Yo, Dushane,” Sully said louder, pushing him about with a bit more force. His eyes opened and darted around as if paranoid, reaching for the pocketknife in his back pocket, Sully backed up with his arms up in mock surrender. “It’s me, fam. It’s Sully,” Dushane narrowed his eyes interrogatively, looking around and Sully returned the look with his brows knit together in concern. “What?” he sat up, pushing what remaining cover he had left off of him. “What do you want?” he shook his head, running a hand over his face. “Née.” He paused, Dushane looked at him pensively before sighing. “What’ve you got her doing?”
“Is this really the time?” he fixed the pocket knife to its place in his pocket again, picking up the cover from the floor nonchalantly. “Yes!” exclaimed Sully, watching as he moved about on the bed. “Is she even in Summerhouse now?”
Dushane let out a deep exhale, the cover now fixed accordingly on top of his bed. “Listen. These are decisions she’s made now, you’ve got nothing to do with them. You made that choice, ‘kay Sul’?” Sully raised his eyebrows, deadpanning at Dushane who was sitting in front of him, looking up. “What are you doing, big man?” he joked, Sully coming closer to him, looking down with half-lidded eyes. Dushane scoffed, rolled his eyes, and then kissed his teeth. “She’s in Manc,” he looked down, averting his eyes. Sully huffed, looking away and biting the inside of his cheek. “Postcode,” he stated.
On roughly four hours of sleep, Sully took the train to Manchester, earning unappreciated glares from more elderly individuals sitting on the carriage opposite to his, gossiping amongst themselves out of earshot as he leant on his hand, looking out of the window. His eyes threatened to flicker closed as they became heavier, to fall asleep and dream of you once more. He watched as trees whirred by, the estates gradually melting out of view as he travelled to Manchester Station, getting off and watching as the pensioners hobbled their way out of the doors, bags slung over their arms. If you were here you would have probably told him to help them out, but you weren’t here. Or you would’ve done, he didn’t know what you would tell him now after all this time, probably more so in the direction you lectured him – and rightfully so – yesterday.
Once he got out of the station, he propped his hood over his head, taking an uber to the destination Dushane had mentioned you would be at prior. It was about six-thirty in the morning. Sully doubted you would be awake at this time, you had always said you weren’t a morning person, but then again this job changed people; he saw that for himself, he hoped you hadn’t changed too much. The sun was just coming up, orange skies blaring light into his vision, according to Dushane you would be meeting some buyers at a marketplace at around seven – at least that’s what he had predicted based on travel times. Gaggles of people grouped up around the stalls in the market, despite the early time; there were various fruits piled in neatly stacked boxes and an ethnic shop filled to the brim with ackee and saltfish, jerk chicken, and various Jamaican ginger beers that he practically floated his way to.
He allowed his nose to lead the way, smelling it from a mile away, licking his lips as if already imagining the flavours on his tongue. “I’ll have a bit of everything,” he nodded, giving the woman running it a polite smile which she gratefully returned, filling a plastic bag with the food and drinks. It crossed his mind that maybe he should get you something, to apologise in at least some way that didn’t involve words; as he knew he wasn’t going to be able to express himself in that way as you, obviously, had the stronger argument and he knew it. He had failed you and his daughter, he knew that. The woman manning the stall handed him the plastic bag, and Sully reached for his wallet. “How much?” he looked up at her through his eyelashes, she simply shook her head and smiled. “It’s on the house.”
Sully raised the bag at her, a sign of gratitude, and looked inside it as he walked through the marketplace; taking a sip of the beer and eyeing out any potential meeting spots such as the secluded garage he could see out of the corner of his eye. He watched the crowds of people gradually dispersing and returning to the marketplace, browsing for wares, none seemed to him like they were on the road; there was no inconspicuous handshakes or ‘gum’ exchanges that Sully knew as being people dealing and dishing out drugs, not even a backpack. Though he did see two officers making their rounds just coming through the marketplace, adjusting the strap stuffed in the front jeans over his jacket.
He avoided eye contact as they walked past, facing the other direction whilst he strolled up to the garage and checked his watch – five-to-seven. He saw you walking through a door next to the garage, twisting your head round and looking behind you, directly at him. He scowled, marching up to follow you into the building and oversee whatever exchange you were carrying out until he was approached by two yutes; no older than Jamie’s younger brother, or around that age. “Yo, where you from?” Sully rolled his eyes, one hand in his pocket while the other was near enough to it, holding onto his bag. He looked around and behind him, then peered over the shorter teenagers to look at the entrance you just went through. Two or three range rovers pulling up to the destination.
He kissed his teeth. “Fuck out the way,” he glared at the two teenagers, he couldn’t exactly shove them away as there were heaps of people shortly behind him watching, and he couldn’t exactly afford to go back to prison for something as small as this. They didn’t budge, the youth of today. “What you movin’ mad for, cause I ain’t ever seen you round ends, innit,” Sully almost laughed, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he waved them off. “Ay, you lot are jokes,” he grinned, shaking his head at their attempts at bigging themselves up. “Don’t be tight, just tell us, yeah?” Sully raised his brows at him, looking behind him again before bringing the gun from the front of his jeans out slowly, so only the barrel was showing.
The two teenagers glared down, backing up away from him and eventually making a run for it down an alleyway opposite. Sully chuckled softly, pulling the gun back into place and covering it up. He then saw you coming out of the building, unscathed, if anything he was impressed – and yet disappointed at the same time. Your gift would have to wait. Sully crossed over from the marketplace to the pavement opposite your side of the road, leaning onto a lamppost, he doubted you would come over, it was just a reassurance to himself and a reminder to you: he was watching you. You glared at him, a different backpack this time; then made your way back in the direction you came from – most likely the long route to Manchester Station and back to London, he assumed you were too paranoid to be caught going through the marketplace with such a large amount of people and the police that had just walked through. You were still smart with it, he almost laughed.
He waited a few minutes until tailing behind you, the sun now properly emerging, and he wondered if you had even slept at all. You now had your hood propped over your head, in fact, he was sure you were wearing the exact same thing yesterday; turning a few times through an alley, and then through a populated area in a bid to lose him. He persisted, after all he had been in this industry longer than you, and pushed through the groups of people hustling along the pavement waiting to cross the road. You finally stopped when you reached the back entrance of a group of shops, a bike shed next to it with a dent and graffiti on it, infested with weeds and grime. He stopped, slightly hiding behind a building, watching as you just stood completely still, likely trying to compose yourself. Why was he hiding?
The answer being the way you swivelled round on the balls of his feet, staring at him once more as he tilted his head and attempted to look nonchalant, ignoring the way he had technically stalked you here. He came out from his hiding spot, looking down, bag still in hand and likely a bit colder. “Fuck you following me for?” you spat, glaring at him from around nine feet away. He shuffled his feet along the gravel, not feeling like a convicted murderer in your presence. He didn’t answer, ignoring you, and shrugging. “You want some beer?” he showed you the contents of the bag, pulling the handles open. You didn’t even look; brown eyes boring into his skull as his darted around for anything but to meet yours. “I said the fuck are you following me for, Sully? You stalking me now?” he scoffed, turning his head to the side and then looking down at you, retracting the bag. “Can’t I look out for my girl no more?” you raised your eyebrows at him, tilting your head down. “You still calling me that?” Sully kissed his teeth, then wet his lips. “What’s with all the attitude?” he grimaced at you. “You call this attitude? You’re on some joke – ay, are you taking something?” you frowned up at him, deadpanning at the complete audacity your ex-boyfriend had. He rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue flat against the roof of his mouth. “No, I’m not taking nothing. Keep your fuckin’ voice down, yeah?” he glared at you, placing a hand on your shoulder whilst looking around, you swiped it off and he huffed, arms going back to dangling uselessly by his sides.
“What are you doing here then?” he looked back at you with half-lidded eyes, staring down, fixated on every little movement or twitch that came with the expressions on your face. “Gotta take care of you, cause you’re clearly not used to doing this shit.” You chuckled softly under your breath, looking down and shaking your head. “Fuck are you laughing at?” you thinned your lips, unresponsive, bottom lip tucked in. “I was fine doing it until you found out,” you mumbled. “Now you’re just gonna, what, spy on me whilst I’m doing my job?” his expression didn’t change; he just looked unconvinced and disappointed. “Did I ever do that?” you asked, jabbing at him. “This isn’t your job,” he cut in. “You were fine by yourself–”
“Fine? Is that how you expect me to be when you just fuckin’ leave on us? No note or nothin’?” he clenched his jaw, teeth grinding against each other. “Née, I told you this. I left you money, you were gonna be fine without me.” You shook your head, chuckling, and staring over at a group of people hovering around a bus stop who were watching you intently. Your voice was condemned to a hushed whisper, breathing deeply as you attempted to contain your rage to a lower volume so as to not cause a scene. “I didn’t want your fuckin’ money, Sully. I haven’t even used it,” you retorted, pressing your tongue against the back of your teeth. “I wanted you, ‘n’ you just left,” you shrugged, thinning your lips once more.
“Clearly you didn’t want me enough,” you added, looking him up and down before crossing the road and making your way back to the route towards Manchester Station.
In my head, T becomes the only other soft spot for Sully other than his daughter of course. T knew about Jason and she knew how much he meant to Sully and how much his death broke Sully so you can imagine how many lengths she'd go through to hide the truth about her brother. She remembers the words that Sully once spoke to her
"You and Tash, you're all i got, I ain't living for no one else but you two. If anybody even tries to hurt either of you, I'll fuckin kill them!"
Omgg the suspense & drama! Omgg Sully is going to snap when he finds out about T’s brother hurting her 🫣😔Sully can’t control his angry esp if it’s someone he loves!
Feed me more 👩🏾💻I wonder if T can help Sully’s control his anger but sometimes it’s uncontrollable!
Here's a completely different Sully x T story lol.
In the Summerhouse courtyard Sully and Dushane corner and interrogate T's nephew as well as her nephew's friends, who are all secretly dealers, but T doesn't know that yet. T arrives at Summerhouse to pick up her nephew and she notices both men harassing the group of kids. Her protective instincts kick in and she rushes to confront the two men.
"Who the hell do you think you two are picking on kids, piss off". She manages to shove Dushane but she fails to do the same with Sully because he grabs ahold of her arms and he shoves her up against something and she struggles to break free.
"LET ME GO, WHAT THE HELL!", she screams at him but he doesn't budge, he just keeps looking down at her unimpressed.
"I could end your fucking life right here right now", he taunts her as he towers over her, showing his dominace.
Out of nowhere, T kicks Sully in the balls very hard and she manages to break free from his hold and get away with her nephew and his friends following right behind. Instead of going after T, Dushane is left stunned at what just happened, completely ignoring Sully doubling over in pain. Sully vows to get his revenge on T.
Unbeknownst to T, the school that she is a teacher aide at is also the same school that Sully's daughter attends 😬.
A little info on T
T lives with her sister and her sisters 2 kids on the other side of town. Her nephew is rebellious and gets into a lot of trouble. T, her sister and her niece are oblivious to him being apart of the drug world as well as being affiliated with Jamie Tovell and his gang. T is a teacher aide as well as a tutor. She's tough as nails and can hold her own if needed. T is completely unaware of the activities going on around Summerhouse when she arrives to pick up her nephew. T is very protective of her sister's kids.
Omgggggg I love this scenario!!!! Cause Sully is cold to people he doesn’t know at 1st until he starts to trust you! Omggg showing his dominance is so attractive 🫣😝ima slut for Sully okayyy!
I love how T isn’t scared but clueless to her nephews’ side hustle 🫣the drama that would be when Sully & Dushane find out it’s Jamie’s crew & then Sully seeing the girl who isn’t scared of him is teaching at Tash school.(Sully’s daughter)
