Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
REUPLOADED
Summary: Anon request - "Begging for Colby enemies to lovers"
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, drugs and alcohol consumption, threats being made, kind of a dark aesthetic, reader has a 'bratty' attitude, mentions of weapons such as knives and guns, mentions of parent death, semi forced actions, unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, filth
Word count: 11.8k | not edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"You've got to be kidding me." You mumble into your slim champagne glass before taking a sip. Your friend, Leslie, looks up at you, "Who?" She glances back and scoffs, turning back to face you, "Of course he's here."
Your eyes stay on him, tracking him as he walks up to the bar, nodding as the bartender gets his usual.
"He has no business being here." You shake your head and Leslie nods, "Mhm. He'll get what's coming to him. Don't worry."
You look back up, tensing up slightly as you no longer have eyes on him.
"Ladies."
Your eyes lock on your Leslie's, "I knew this place was going downhill." She glances over at the man standing at the table, looking between the two of you, "Why do you say that, y/n?" She swirls her wine in her glass and you lean back, glancing over at him, "They're just letting anyone in here now, aren't they?"
"Yeah?" He questions as he sits down next to you, "I see they let anyone who has a bratty attitude in, too."
You roll your eyes, laughing once before finishing your drink, "Last I checked, this is my father's casino. What do you want. Are you here to accuse him again?" You look over at him and he shrugs, extending his arm on the top of the booth behind you, "Nah, I cleared that up." He sips his drink with a shrug, "Just wanted to talk."
"About what?" You stare at him and he chuckles, "Maybe we should have this conversation else where."
You shake your head, resting your elbows on the table, "Here's fine."
He chuckles and shakes his head, "You know.." he looks over at you, "I really wasn't giving you a choice, darling."
You turn to him, leaning in, "See, the gun that's strapped to my thigh tells me different."
He licks his lips, a smirk growing over them as he turns to look at you, "Are you threatening me?" His tone lowers to match yours and you tilt your head, "Not unless we have a problem."
You lean back, grabbing the fresh glass of champagne that was delivered to your table, "Do we have a problem Mr. Brock?"
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head, "Nope. No problem."
