#Bob Saginowski | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tickettride · 1 month ago

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To Be Alone With You

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is bob saginowski x mom!reader

in which Bob is just the grumpy, quiet bartender who always keeps an eye on her store across the street, just in case something happens. In a very friendly manner. She’s too oblivious to everything—too good for this world. He’s just the grumpy bartender who worries about her.

word count: 4,2k

warnings: fluff, just the mob lurking around, Bob is kind of paranoid she’s going to get herself killed, maybe a few mistakes I’ve missed

A/N: sometimes I get obsessed with these random thoughts and ideas and I HAVE to write them down. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bob holding a baby either. Bree was just a "she", but I loved the concept so much I had to give her a proper identity. Hopefully I’ll write more about these two three 🤍

Even when the store was closed, the 'Open!' sign remained on the door. No matter the snow painting the streets or the danger creeping in when the sky turned darker, the sign was just a detail she didn’t think to flip over.

With her kid always perched on her hip and the store she managed on her own, Bob could only assume she did her best to survive. Just like he did.

He had taken a strange liking to glancing at that door every now and then, catching glimpses of her through the window. She’d be behind the counter, either putting things in bags or hugging herself to fend off the cold. Bob had also noticed she arrived at the same hour, usually wearing a long coat that made her look small and a scarf messily thrown around her neck. Even from afar, she radiated something he craved to understand.

In November, the store was closed for the fifth day in a row. On the sixth day, Marv gave Bob a weird look for coming in so early, oblivious about it all. But it was fair to worry—not just because that woman seemed like someone who needed protection. Bob wasn’t one to claim superpowers, but the kind of men who lurked after sunset wouldn’t hesitate to make her suffer for something she didn’t even know about. Violence ran in those men’s veins, and Eric was trouble wrapped in bad intentions to say the least.

Everyone had noticed Bob was off, though when hadn’t he been? His life was just a series of calculated drops, heated meals eaten on his couch, and ticking of the clock which, in return, ate his brain. It wasn’t unusual for him to scowl at the door or at anyone who stepped into the bar. What was unusual, though, was him standing by the window during the quiet moments, when he would usually remain behind the bar, where the money was. The regulars asked what was up with him, and stopped joking when they realized he wouldn’t reply.

He’d seen a man get shot just down the street. What if she ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time with her kid?

It was absurd. He didn’t even know what she sold exactly. He’d been told it was stuff for kids, but he wasn’t sure, and didn't ask. You know, just wondering. Although he’d never seen anyone picking her up or dropping her off in the mornings, Bob couldn’t be so sure about her situation.

From what he’d seen, her kid was still a baby. That was all he knew.

So, despite the desperate lack of information and the fact that the two Chechens would soon claim their stake again, Bob had the overwhelming urge to make sure she stayed far from the dangers he was involved in.

As if on purpose, a few days after disappearing, she returned at an odd hour—around three o'clock. The lights were on as the snowy sky was darker than usual, but Bob didn’t spot her again until closing time.

Marv was busy chatting with someone, and this seemed like the perfect time to meet her. This would pull him out of his crazy haze, and he’d finally see she was just like the rest.

He crossed the road when it was clear and squinted through the darkness, spotting her shape as he drew closer, not even sure what he’d say exactly. A blast of snow hit him in the face as he approached the door, frowning at himself when he noticed the baby toys displayed behind the glass. Before he could decide on his next words, a short woman opened the door and offered an awkward smile, prompting him to step aside and let her pass.

With the door open in front of him, his next options were easy. Walk in, make sure she’s fine. Turn around and leave her out of it.

The second his foot hit the wooden floor, the woman he thought he already knew turned around and offered a bright smile—one she must have given to everyone who dared walk down that street. He took a minute to admire her beauty and how her skin seemed to glow under the light.

“Hi. Just let me know if you need anything.”

Bob nodded stiffly, eyeing his surroundings. Baby clothes. Kids toys. He had definitely not one reason to be standing there, with the heater blowing warm air in his face. Standing there in silence, he looked like one of the men he was worried about.

Checking the front door in case anyone was listening in, Bob cleared his throat. “Hey. I came to see how you’re doing.”

He met her eyes again, which slightly lost their spark. Yet, her features were even more beautiful from so close. There was something so sweet in her face, matching with her voice. A tenderness he couldn’t have noticed from the bar.

She gave Bob a confused smile. “Do we know each other?”

An awkward chuckle slipped past her lips, the sound causing him to stare at her for a long moment, at a loss for words. Why hadn’t he introduced himself first-hand like a normal person?

“I’m sorry, uh, I’m Bob. Bob Saginowski. I’m working at the bar across the street.”

Her eyes followed his, landing on the building which orange lights spilled onto the sidewalk.

“Oh,” her eyes widened in realization. “Right. Sorry, I wasn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he cut her off, sliding his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Bob couldn’t help but think she was smiling at him out of pity, or maybe to let him think it was time for him to go. Although she looked honest and more at ease now he’d told her his name, he wondered if it had been a good thing to come here.

“I’m Bree,” she nervously toyed with her rings. “So, do you have kids, or… are you looking for something?”

“Nah,” Bob was quick to respond, almost laughing at the question. “It’s just that it can get a bit dangerous out here, you know, at night. Thought I’d swing by and check in.”

“Right, well, thank you,” she said, searching for the right words. “I’ve had some issues with my car, so now a friend drops me off and picks me up every day... you know, over by the parking lot next to the restaurant?”

“Yeah, I know it.”

She nodded again, like a nervous habit she couldn’t get rid of. “I have to walk the rest of the way from there, but I’ve seen cars parked around sometimes. I don’t know… it just felt off, you know?”

“I get it. If anything happens, don't hesitate to come for help, alright? I’m right there.”

“Thank you,” Bree gave a sincere smile. “I'm okay for now, but I guess I’ll have to deal with it on my own someday.”

“You’re scared to drive?”

“Not scared, um, I just don’t feel comfortable going out there with my baby. Driving either."

Her baby. Right. Bob considered offering to give her rides—whenever she needed, day or night, weekends too—but his words stuck in his throat when a loud wail echoed from another room, making her flinch.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, I’ll...”

Without a word, Bob watched her stride across the room and push open a door at the back of the store. Should he wait here and make a fool of himself? Leave without saying goodbye, just to avoid any awkward goodbyes?

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

His eyes flitted back to the door, where Bree cradled that little bundle against her chest, cooing lowly. Something tugged inside him at the sight, hearing her say it was okay, that there was no reason to cry.

Swallowing hard, Bob forced a smile when she looked up at him.

“That’s the little monster draining all my energy,” she tried to joke, lighting the atmosphere with a curve of her lips. “My boss doesn’t know she’s staying with me so… if you don’t mind keeping that between us."

“Yeah, of course. Are you—are you taking care of her by yourself?”

She hummed in response, glancing down at the baby. “Yeah. I’ve been having trouble with the late babysitter. Gotta find someone else. She hates sleeping there, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

That didn’t really answer his question about the father or husband, but Bob didn’t want to push. What did he care about anyway? She already had enough troubles as it was.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a quiet acknowledgment of her struggle. “Jesus. That sounds tough.”

Bree chuckled, a bright sound that almost knocked the wind out of him. “I know, right? I must sound like a real 'woe is me' kind of person. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Bob didn’t miss a beat, earning another smile.

It might have been a sign of the times when his phone buzzed in his pocket, lightning up with Marv’s name. He wished he could have told him to fuck off, but instead clicked on the red button and sent a one word text. Maybe he actually needed help with the drop.

coming.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta go,” Bob said while tucking his phone back into his pocket, glancing at the baby’s hand gripping her mother’s hair.

Bree gave a quick nod. "Well, come back soon.”

“I will,” he surprised himself saying, sharing a smile too.

Next time, perhaps he could pretend to have a nephew whose birthday was coming up, and offer to buy something. That would be better than standing there, searching how he could tell her not to linger outside when it got dark. And perhaps he could stick around longer.

When he stopped at the door, his hand rested on the handle, he couldn’t help but tell her, “Be careful, alright?”

With that beautiful face of hers, she just shrugged and joked that she’d try to survive. And just before he shut the door behind him, Bree thanked him again.

Bob had always been observant as a child. Always wanting to analyze the world and decipher the meaning of every little thing. But life in Brooklyn had worn him down. By the time he hit eighteen, there was no longer room for long nights staring at his ceiling. He moved into a shitty apartment close to the house he now lived in, accepted the job Marv offered, and lost that spark. He wasn’t sure how to dream anymore. Not that the bar offered anything remotely close to romance anyway.

It was a Friday, or perhaps a Saturday, when Marv came back from his cigarette break outside with that look in his eyes. Bob knew it all too well. It clouded his eyes each time the men came in to collect their cut.

“What’s up with you?” he asked as soon as Marv came behind the bar, grabbing a bottle.

“There’s another car parked outside. Been sitting there too long.”

Bob frowned, his eyes flickering to the window, though he couldn’t see anything from where he was.

“Where?”

“Don’t make a big thing out of it,” Marv brushed it off, acknowledging a guy on one of the stools with a small nod. “We’ll deal with it.”

Inhaling deeply, Bob tossed the towel behind him and told Marv to watch things for a minute. He wouldn’t listen to the men’s dumb stories while knowing some guys were parked near her, maybe watching her, knowing her kid was in there, too.

“Where are you going?” Marv called from behind him, a shout that he ignored as he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Only wearing his green sweatshirt and his light puffer vest, Bob also ignored the chill air that seeped through his clothes and inhaled another sharp breath. A black car was parked by the street curb, in front of her store. Though he couldn’t see the faces sitting inside, he knew they weren’t just customers of the bar.

“Damn it,” he muttered to himself as he crossed the street in long steps, growing closer to the light.

For some reason, her normal expression eased some of his nerves. Bree was talking to a couple next to a table with baby clothes, focused and serious. The baby sleeping against her chest. She must knew them, he thought.

Bob was sweeping her body with one long glance when she looked over the woman’s shoulder. His hard gaze bore into hers, fascinated by the mere sight of her. She wore a long skirt, like the kind he’d seen his mother wear once or twice, with black boots peeking out from underneath.

Bree’s distant gaze shifted toward the couple as they both glanced in his direction, sizing him up. Quietly, she thanked them for coming, watched them leave, and met his eyes again. At that, an electric current zipped up his arms to his neck, the tiny hairs rising.

How could she make him feel like a fucking kid, he’d never know.

Then, he realized his headaches had less to do with Marv’s incessant prattling and more with how far he was from her. Walking in her store was appeasing.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Bree greeted back. “I supposed you’re not looking to buy anything?”

Stupidly, he thought for a second. “I’m not.”

She nodded, as if to say it’s okay. “I saw your boss outside the bar, watching that car.”

Bob turned around, his eyes narrowing at it, still sitting there.

“Yeah, I don’t know what they’re after,” he said, frowning.

“Me either,” she brushed a soft thumb over the baby’s cheeks which looked splotchy from sobbing. “I just wish they could leave. No one comes in when they park in front of the door.”

As if to tell him it was fine, she offered him a small smile and walked behind the counter to sit on a stool, letting out a tired exhale.

“I can tell them to leave,” Bob offered, his voice rough and quiet. “You know, I can find a way to tell them.”

“It’s fine, don’t bother. I’ll close up soon.”

They just looked at each other, the silence spinning tension in his core. He couldn’t find a single word to break it.

“You can stay for a bit, if you want,” Bree added, her voice soft, just as the baby’s babbling quieted. “I’d feel a little safer if you did.”

His answer came without hesitation. “I’ll stay, yeah.”

“That is, if you’re not working or anything.”

“I’m fine. The bar’s quiet.”

Lie. But Marv would be okay.

“I’ve seen lots of people coming in, though,” she smiled teasingly.

“I’ve worked all week,” Bob simply shrugged, stepping closer. “I can take one long break once in a while.”

Another smile painted her lips, this time more serious. “I can call a friend to stay with me if you have to go.”

“It’s okay,” he insisted, finally meeting the baby’s wide, curious gaze. “I’ve got better company here.”

“Yeah? Are they bad company?”

“They’re just chatty men in need of attention, you know.”

Bree grimaced funnily, bouncing Cleo back and forth in an attempt to soothe her as she began to fuss. “Tell me about it. I’ve had my fair share of needy men.”

“Is that right?”

Another grimace. He chuckled at her self-deprecating joke, coaxing out that dimple in her cheek. She smoothed the growing fuzz of hair back from the baby’s face. Feeling she wouldn’t say more, Bob asked what her name was.

“That’s Ivy.”

“Ivy. She’s cute.”

“Just like her mom,” Bree cooed against the baby’s head.

The gleam in Ivy’s eye told him she was happy. But he couldn’t stop looking at Bree. Could have stood there for hours, watching her smile happily. Even if she hadn’t asked, he wouldn’t have left her alone that evening.

He was about to say something when her smile faded, and she suddenly turned toward the door. Bob followed her gaze, looking out the window just in time to see one of the men step out of the car.

They should have locked the door.

Shit. Why hadn’t he thought about that before?

“You know what?” Bree rose to her feet and walked around the counter. “I'll have a word with them. Do you mind?”

She was holding out the baby to him.

Both confused and nervous about her sudden decision, it took him some time to process her request.

“Nah, don’t go,” Bob looked at her in concern, though he still reached out and grabbed Ivy, pulling her to his hip instinctively. “You’d get shot for no reason.”

“At least they’d get away,” Bree replied firmly, too determined for him to say anything.

And he could even curse with that baby in his arm, watching him warily. Both of them watched her cross the store, her hair bouncing with each step. He would have fallen for her if she wasn’t so reckless.

He’d come here to make sure she didn’t get killed accidentally, and somehow, he’d ended up with a baby in his arms, playing babysitter while she played superwoman. When had it all gone wrong?

“Well, Ivy,” Bob filled the silence, thinking she might find it awkward too. “You’re okay?”

Expecting her to burst into tears, Bob felt his mouth curving up as she bobbed her little head over and looked up at him with that same curiosity. He hoped he wasn’t smelling like beer or whiskey, though he knew she was not old enough to even realize.

“Your mother’s a tough one, little bean,” he mumbled as he tried to see Bree through the window. “I don’t know what she’s gonna tell them, but...”

An amused giggle filled the air between them, coming right from his arms. Something like pride swelled in his chest as he looked back down at her rosy cheeks. She was as close to happy as he’d ever seen her be when aimed his way.

“You find it funny?” Bob mumbled, adjusting her headband as it started to slip off. “I wish I could laugh, too.”

Ivy smiled again.

Bob smiled back at her.

“Assholes.”

Bree walked in, breathing out a long breath to calm herself. Realizing he hadn’t even seen what happened, Bob stepped closer and observed her face. A good excuse to stand nearer. She looked alright. More upset than anything. Not one bloody trace on her face, though her cheeks looked crimson from the cold and the adrenaline.

“I thought they’d keep ignoring me,” Bree uttered in frustration, looking at the car with a scowl. “I knocked on their window at least thirty times.”

Her gaze fell on her daughter in Bob’s arms, and something clicked in her gaze. “Shit, sorry. I'm here.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” he passed her back to her mother, watching as she folded easily into the curve of Bree’s side. “She was cute.”

“Good,” she muttered, kissing the top of Ivy’s head.

“Just like her mother.”

Bree chuckled, a flush in her cheeks, and the sound warmed him up. “Well, I’ll put her down again while I clean up. It’s almost time.”

She hates sleeping there.

“Do you want me to hold her?” Bob asked, clearing his throat in that second of silence. “I’ll walk you to the parking lot once you’re finished.”

Bree’s eyes sparkled when she bit her bottom lip and asked, “Really?”

“I can…” her lips looked so soft, “I can hold her while you clean up. She didn’t seem to mind.”

Why was it a bad idea? Bob could think of a million reasons—the most important being his stupid attraction. He wouldn’t be able to get her off his mind if he went on, but since he was already caught in the trap… he might as well be of service.

“Okay. Thanks.”

Offering her a small smile, he scooped Ivy out of her mother’s arms again, even though he still was terrified of dropping her. This time, the baby didn’t wait for him to speak to beam up at him.

“Why, she seems to like you,” Bree drawled, looking surprised.

“Does she?” Bob asked, looking back into her hazel eyes.

Like her mother’s.

“Yeah. She’s usually a little shy.”

Well, he got it. He was still a stranger.

Bob stood around while Bree cleaned the store in a few minutes, making it quick. She even threw out the classic, “Tell me about yourself,” which immediately made his palms sweat.

“Um, not much to tell. Grew up around here, never really left the bar. My parents lived next to the laundromat.”

“So you’re a local,” Bree smiled up at him while counting the cash, putting them in clean piles.

“Um-hm,” he bopped Ivy’s nose to make her smile again. “You’re not?”

After a few seconds of silence while she counted, Bree closed the cash register and turned off the lights behind her.

“I’m not,” she confirmed. “I used to live in the Bronx. Until I found out I was pregnant. We moved here, but it didn’t really work out.”

So they lived alone. At least Bob felt less guilty about looking her like that, with his puppy eyes.

“You live nearby now?”

“Yeah,” she walked in his direction like in a dream he had, moving into the last bits of fading light. “About ten minutes away. I’d walk if I was alone, but…”

“Do you want me to drop you home?”

“Oh, it’s fine. My friend’s got a messy shift at the restaurant, so he might be late.”

“I don’t want you to wait here alone. I mean, alone with Ivy.”

The words came out before he had time to properly vet them. At that, Bree chewed on her lips thoughtfully, her gaze drifting through the window.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

"Nah. I just… don’t have a car seat or anything.”

Lost in her thoughts for a moment, she finally said, “You know what? That’d be really nice. I’ve got a baby carrier in the back. I can keep her under my coat for the ride.”

Pretending to understand what she even meant, Bob nodded along and waited as she slipped into the back room. Two minutes later, she returned, baby carrier in hand, her coat, bag, and scarf draped over her arm.

“I’ve let my friend know you’ll drive me home,” she told him.

Bree quickly strapped the carrier to her chest, her brows furrowing in concentration. Bob couldn’t quite figure out how she managed to tuck Ivy into the carrier so effortlessly, but it worked—her daughter didn’t make a sound.

“So you just… wear her like that?”

Bree grinned at him, taking her jacket from him. “I promise it’s safe. She likes it.”

“You do make it look easy.”

“It is easy, until you’ve got to zip up your jacket. That’s the tricky part.”

Struggling to get her second arm into the sleeve, Bree mumbled a low curse.

So he came closer, awkwardly muttering, “Let me help.”

She let him, her cheeks flushing as his breath grazed her nose. He risked a glance down at her for a split second, swallowing hard.

“Careful with her head,” Bree whispered.

Lightly gripping the zipper, Bob nodded silently. He just hadn’t expected her to smell so good. Something flowery he would think about for days, a perfume that would accompany her face in his daydreams. He tugged the zipper up slowly, his heart flipping at every inch and at the look she gave him. Perhaps there was a small, tiny, chance she felt that thing as well.

“Thank you, Bob.”

He didn’t need any more.

Bree closed the store with trembling fingers and let him lead her through the street, the little head peeking out from her coat.

“My car’s just over there.”

She nodded, throwing careful looks over her shoulder. “Thank you again. That’s really kind of you.”

“Ain’t nothing. Want me to carry the bag?”

“If you don’t mind,” she looked so bashful then it made him smile.

“Here,” he took the bag from her hands, glancing at Ivy fighting off her heavy eyelids, a low sleepy sound coming out of her mouth. “She’s okay? I mean, she’s comfortable enough?”

“She’s just tired,” Bree kissed her head and covered it with her hands again. “You’re good.”

“Okay,” Bob laughed a bit, not quite knowing why, his shoes crunching over the snow. He was just tired too. Not believing she was actually talking to him, trusting him enough to take care of her.

He pulled his keys from his pocket, the metal slipping slightly from his fingers. Their breath clouded in front of them.

Bob made sure they were settled correctly, his hands lingering for a moment to make sure Ivy was comfortable. He circled around to the driver’s side, the weight of the moment settling. From watching her across the street to sitting beside her inside his truck. It was surreal.

Ivy stirred once or twice, letting out tiny sighs that made Bree smile to herself. Bob caught it out of the corner of his eye and felt that thing tighten in his chest again. The sudden desire not to be alone anymore. He’d never thought much of these things before, but something about this moment made him think hard. This time, he told her he could give her rides whenever she wanted, that he'd be happy to help since his shift at the bar was flexible—another lie. Unsure at first, Bree came to agree with him picking her up in the mornings. You know, it’d be more practical for your friend.

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy x oc #bob saginowski #the drop #tom hardy x reader #thebikeriders

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angel-inked · 1 year ago

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Don't lose sleep over it.

Forrest sleeps on a mattress on the floor, ever wonder how that came to be?

This also got a lot longer than I thought it would lol

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @hoodeddreams13 @liliac-dreamer @inkwolvesandcoffee @potter-solomons

A slow day at the station with fair weather meant sitting out on the front porch, you were sitting in a rocking chair with a towel laid over your lap, peeling potatoes for tonight's supper, stealing glances at Howard, Danny, and Jack. Howard and Danny were passing a jar between themselves, despite having a crate sat at their feet, the pair of old friends were content to share one at a time as if it made it taste better. Jack let out a heavy sigh, resting his hat on his knee as he leaned back against a poll that aided in holding up the roof that covered the porch, brooding over God knows what. A relaxed smile rested on your face, the late afternoon that was slowly turning into an evening was almost perfect, given the absence of one of the brothers.

“I could run them blockades.” Jack said flatly. “You? A blockader? Shit.” Danny scoffed. “Ya know, Forrest don't like hearin’ none of your shit.” Howard said with a smug grin, knowing that no matter how ever many times Jack was told to stop complaining, didn't mean he was going to stop anytime soon. “Forrest ain't got no vision,” Jack griped, and you shook your head. That boy would be rich if he could make a living off of talkin’ about vision this and vision that, you thought. “He still sleeps on the floor, like a goddamn chinaman.” Jack continued as Danny passed the half full jar back to Howard. The eldest glanced at Danny as he took the jar, he sat it on the old oak barrel next to his side of the bench. He leaned his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and smiling at Jack. “I'll bet you don't know the story behind that do you, little brother?” He asked. Jack only stared in response, making Howard snort a laugh, “All started the day somebody broke into the goddamned place…”

“Son of a bitch..” Forrest grumbled quietly, walking up the front steps, glancing back at Howard over his shoulder. The eldest snapped his head up to attention, “You seein’ this shit?” Forrest gestured to the broken window, shards of glass littered almost half of the front part of the wrap around porch. Forrest sighed as he entered through the door, retrieving his revolver from his belt. “You check upstairs.” He said calmly, they've already dealt with their share of less reputable sources, it was the nature of their business and not many in said business had the pleasure of officials who turned a blind eye to them and their doings in broad daylight. Howard nodded and moved past him, marching up the stairs with all the grace of a compact herd of bulls. Forrest sighed heavily, damn it Howard. Thankfully there was only one set of stairs, however he wouldn't put it past some people to fling themselves out of a second story window depending on how desperate they were, he's pulled enough of his own risky getaway stunts to understand this on a personal level, and getting away from Howard was certainly something that could drive someone to such measures. The kitchen and barroom, and more importantly his office appeared untouched as he moved through the rooms. He stood steadfast in the doorway of his office, eyes studying every inch of the room to satisfy himself that there wasn't a single belonging out of place, with as much time as he spent here, of course he would be the one to know. He breathed deeply, a long deep comfortable breath of cigar smoke soaked walls mixing with the leather polish he used on the boots that he kept for nice, not that “nice” counted for much around here. He hung his hat on a crudely fashioned iron hook Howard had put by the door some time ago now, Howard was of course taller, so eye level for him was a bit over Forrest's head but that didn't matter, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. A content sigh left his lips, half a mind to pick up one of his ledgers.

“Forrest!” Howard called, Forrest flinched at the sudden break of his comfortable silence, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, grumbling incoherently to himself as he took a step backwards out of the doorway, supposing being hollered at by his brother was better than hearing a gunshot. His heavy boots thudded as he moved up the stairs, he'd never exactly gone out of his way to find Howard, didn't have to. Just follow the string of curses, they'd always lead right to him. Howard stood aimless in the middle of the bedroom, Jack's bedroom.. or what was left of it. Clothes were scattered across the floor as if thrown, Forrest knew they were folded and put away in the chest of drawers this morning, he'd been the one to put them there. Mattress and bedding turned over carelessly, they fared better than the frame itself, looking like someone had taken both ends of an ax to it. A splintered pile of broads, like someone had been in desperate need of firewood. Forrest wouldn't really blame them had that been the case, he'd been in that position before, knew a lot of others who had also been there before.

Howard glanced around the room, gaze finally settled on Forrest leaning a shoulder against the door jamb with his arms crossed across his chest. The shorter male flicked his hazel eyes toward the leftovers of their younger brother's bed and back to Howard's face, he hadn't been able to tell if the feeling that spider-walked down his spine was a shiver or a tingle. The eldest settled on a mix of both, deadlocked by what was outwardly the stare of the middle brother, but inwardly, a dead ringer for the stare of a mother. Forrest had always looked the most like her. He'd always had her eyes, greenish hazel with flakes of honeyed brown, he attempted to shrug off the haunting memory. “This is it,” he stated, answering the unsaid question, “nothin’ else.” You learned how to answer without being asked if you spent enough time with Forrest, something the youngest had yet to master. Silence fell among the two men, Forrest readjusted his stance slightly, shifting on his feet, eyes moving around the bedroom. Howard idled, taking his time to stow away his weapon, awaiting his brother's command. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rested his weight on one leg, a hip stuck out to the side, eyes following and tracing the paths the eyes of his younger brother carved out. “Hmm” Forrest finally hummed, stepping over the threshold, one hand settling in the pocket of his patterned sweater vest, “Best find something to fix that window,” he started, “bar it at least, until we get a replacement.” Howard nodded, and Forrest continued, “I'll sort this mess out.” His free hand gestured to the room, Howard nodded again, moving past Forrest without a word, off to do as he was told.

Forrest huffed, recalling how he spent their last trip into town doing all he could to hold Howard back from lounging at a pair of, well he still thought of them as boys, they were grown now. Howard ran with them once, if only because they were his age. They snickered at each other, Howard and Jack were whooped house dogs, according to them, and Forrest was an overly bossy prick apparently. “They don't know us.” Forrest had said out of earshot in an attempt to quell a frenzied Howard. He shook his head as if it would rid his mind of the memory, focusing on the task at hand. He flipped the latch on the window open, grabbing the stick that Jack used to prop it open. He sent the first piece of wood sailing out of the window, hurtling toward the ground. He'd stuff it in the barn later, even if it did end up as firewood later. Wood could always be used for something.

Howard spat on the ground, holding the rusty nails with his mouth may not have been the best idea in hindsight, but it got the job done. He yanked on the similarly rusted rebar, with not a single clue nor care where Forrest and Cricket came up with it, to make sure it held, it was a crude fix, but he still grinned when it stayed in place, he had gotten what he was after. The old screen door wailed on its hinges as he made his way to inspect his work from the inside. His pleased grin only widened. His attention snapped to the stairs when he heard a thunk, wood against wood, followed by a soft string of uttered curses. “Forrest?!” He called, no answer, figures. His feet carried him up the stairs before he really had a say in the matter. Whoever had broken the window was well and gone, but his strong instincts to protect kicked in nonetheless. His heavy boots stomped against the wooden floor as he rushed to his baby brother. The doorway was blocked by a piece of furniture, a bed frame, maybe? he couldn't see around or over it. “Forrest?” He said again, more confused this time. “Well, push the damned thing already.” Forrest responded from inside the room, sounding particularly frustrated. Howard propped a shoulder against the dark colored wood, bracing his legs as he put his weight into wedging the heavy object out of the way. It emitted a manner of creaks and groans, complaining with every inch of movement, a number of groans, grunts, and grumbling came from the two men brute forcing the movement upon it. Forrest would give him an earful later, but Howard ceased his pushing momentarily, adjusting his stance and growling at the stubborn simple bed. Resetting his feet and putting all his weight into ramming his shoulder against the frame, and something gave, it was through the door finally.

Forrest fell backwards with a thunk, he gazed up at the piece of furniture that now towered over him from this point of view on his rear. “Bastard…” he murmured, cursing directed at the inanimate object, not Howard. He huffed before going to get to his feet, a pair of arms snaked under his pits and lifted him, remaining in place until he found his balance. Howard rounded his side and came into vision, blue orbs ran over Forrest multiple times in quick succession. Howard could step up if needed, but without a solid source of direction, he would ultimately be entirely lost. Those concerned eyes came to rest on the middle brother's face. Forrest only softened his gaze like this for his brothers, bunching part of Howard's jacket in his fist, a couple light tugs and a pat on the shoulder made Howard smile at him. With the bedframe no longer stuck, Forrest muscled it into place with ease as Howard's features scrunched into a puzzled expression. “Where'd you get this?” He asked, not thinking about how his body seemed to help move the mattress in place automatically. Forrest paused, staring Howard down from the opposite side of the bed, a soft grunt fell from his lips as he turned to put the rest of the bed back together. Howard once again made to help without much thought on anything except what Forrest wouldn't tell him, he cornered the shorter male as he put a pillow in its proper place, studying Forrest's expression. “Aren't I worth answerin’?” Howard said, placing an arm either side of his younger brother's head, leaning on his hands and the wall. Forrest sighed heavily and audibly through his nose, ducking under Howard's arm and making for his own bedroom door. Howard of course, followed, stopping the door from shutting completely with his foot with very little force, albeit said door was slammed in his face regardless after Forrest smacked his side into it. Howard remained in place for a moment, staring at the door and nodding at nothing in particular, eventually sullenly walking to his door at the end of the hall.

“It's been that way since.” Howard finished telling his tale, “you got back from Cricket's, and didn't know the difference.” He added. The orange, pink, and purple gradient of the sunset was accompanied by the approaching rumble of an engine, the brothers shared truck came to a stop and Forrest lumbered out of the driver's seat, and the aforementioned Cricket Pate appeared from the passenger door, the grin plastered to his face got bigger when he spotted Jack. “Jack! You ain't gon’ believe this.” He chirped happily, showing off his newest jar of hooch. Forrest let out a satisfied groan as he twisted his midsection, making his back crack with an audible pop. He thudded up the steps with no hurry in his pace as Cricket chattered on about how he'd perfected his recipe, “I.. uh, had a little help, of course.” He added, glancing up at Forrest, who shook his head and shrugged, not sharing in the boy’s excitement with how many years he's been runnin’ shine now, wasn't worth fussin’ over. Forrest sauntered to your side, stubble pressed into your cheek as he caressed it with a gentle kiss, “Darl’” he drawled softly in greeting. Cricket had gone quiet, as Jack's focus shifted to his big brother taking his relaxed moments toward the front door, one foot got over the threshold before he stopped and turned back to Jack, who figured he knew he was being stared at, “The hell you watchin’ me for?” The middle brother asked, Jack turned away, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “Hmft.” Forrest grunted at the lack of answering, and then he disappeared inside.

#hope you enjoy #wip wednesday #wip wip wip #tom hardy #forrest bondurant #lawless #fluff #there might be a Bob saginowski piece coming soon 😉#for now enjoy some fluffy Forrest thinking about his brothers before himself #🖤🖤🖤🖤

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