Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader, Jake x OC
Word Count: 22.7k
Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin'. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons and Guns, Physical Fighting, Blood, Broken Bones, Bodily Injury, Heavy Angst, Domestic Violence, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, Mentions of Hard Drugs, Reckless Driving, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Betting, Crying, Big Emotions, Mentions of Foster Homes, Abusive Foster Parents, Fluff. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral M!Receiving, Foreplay, Slight Penetration.
DANNY POV
The throbbing in between your eyes wasn't from the beers you drank last night, but instead from the stress of the overwhelming feeling of doom looming over the shop the minute Jake told you to get set up. You hated these damn poker games. You were shit at poker anyway, and though you had gotten better over time, it still wasn't enough to beat the sharks you played against. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stood back and looked at the set table, fixing any little detail you saw fit before sundown came.
One by one the regular guys started to file in through the tiny storage hallway in the back of the shop, taking their normal spots around the table. They shared a few greetings, but no one dared shake another's hand. These games were strictly for pure sport, they always had been. These men were here to play the game, win their money, get the gossip, and leave. You couldn't half blame them. Your mind buzzed with the memory of what Bubba had confessed to you the other night, or, stopped himself from confessing. You knew it had to do with Ace, and you knew it was serious. You were almost scared to learn.
Clancy, John, Bird and Joey... all the regulars and few stragglers you saw every few games or so gathered around and pulled their wads of folded bills from their pockets, displaying them on the table. Joey shot you a dirty look as he took his seat. "What are we waitin' on? Deal us in, Jake." he spat as he lit a cigarette.
You looked at Jake who had already started nipping from a bottle of clear tequila. "We gotta wait on Teddy, you know that." he said blankly, screwing the top back on to his pint.
"Ah, fuckin' Fridge. Always late to everything. Where the fuck is he, anyway?" Joey continued, looking to his friend who responded with a shrug.
Just then, the squeaky metal door pushed open, revealing Teddy with two of his minions in tow. "Evenin', fellas! How's the pot lookin' tonight?" He bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the tiny room. He yanked the metal folding chair out from his spot at the table, flipping it around to sit in it backwards as he chewed his cigar with his free hand. Your eyes flicked to him, then to Jake, who was already returning your annoyed expression. It seemed as though Teddy was already on his bullshit tonight. He pulled his silver flask from inside his coat pocket and took a long sip before handing it off to the man to his right.
"Everyone ready?" Jake picked up the deck of cards silently, asking Clancy to cut them before he began dealing. Jake always got to deal first, and luckily everyone kept to the rule of house. The smell of tequila was already emanating off of Jake, and you could tell he was already slow in his movements. He wasn't anywhere near drunk, but he was teetering on the edge of getting there. You pinched your nose, feeling that same headache making its way forward again.
Damnit, Jake. Get it together...
"Take it easy, Jake. We don't need any more buildings caught on fire tonight..." You whispered into his ear. He returned it with a dismissive scoff.
