ride or die | seth (looper) x f!reader
summary : You weren't the kind of girl to stick around. But Kansas City had its ways of getting under your skin. Or maybe it was just Seth. Seth made you want to stay.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
note : just a fluffy meet-cute, seth getting himself into trouble but what’s new, i just love him and he deserves more attention, shout-out to @creme-bruhlee for a banger last name ☺️
Indie. Everyone called you that, and not in a cute way, more in an annoying way. You’re too independent. Oh, look, she thinks she’s independent, kind of way. Always with the mocking tone, most generally from the mouth of your boss, leering over the counter at you. Nobody who you liked called you Indie. Not that you had very many people left that you liked.
It wasn’t that you were picky with friends or anything, it was just, that people didn’t stick around in your experience. It was fine though, you didn’t stick around often either. You tended to sit on the edge of your seat, ready to bolt. But, to your recent dismay, turns out you kind of like Kansas City.
Indie, or not, you kind of like the bookshop you worked at. Kaden, your boss, wasn’t in most days, and you had the place to yourself. It was tiny, and ancient, half the lights above your head busted. And it smelled nice, old and dusty in a cozy way, instead of a moldy way, like at home.
Your time passed inside an insignificant bookshop, down a forgotten Kansas City downtown road, with even a few physical copies in the back. You played the music you liked, would read anything that caught your eye, and sometimes carved doodles into the counter. And then, Kansas City offered something else to like. There was him.
On a Monday, like every Monday, the shop was empty. Until it wasn’t. He was tall and thin, wearing a cheap-looking gray leather jacket, folded like a suit jacket. Smudged eyeliner and sandy hair pulled back, a few strands hanging by his eyes. Green eyes, quiet, like olives when they met yours. He looked startled, crashing in through the front door, fast, almost tripping over himself.
“Oh,” He said, staring. “M’sorry. Thought it was abandoned.”
“Not yet.” You laughed, leaning back in the chair behind the counter, swallowing slowly. You hadn’t been expecting anyone, just swaying alone to the music peacefully, until he interrupted. You hoped you didn’t look as irritated as you felt.
You waited for him to leave. He didn’t.
“Has this place always been here?” He asked.
“I don’t know. Been here a while, I think.”
“Oh.”
You ruffled slightly, looking over his head, than back at his face. He looked like trouble. Looked like a Looper. Maybe even high on something.
“Can I help you with anything?” You asked gently, prodding.
“Uhh—“ He began, before the door just behind him opened suddenly, eyes searching for you. It was Kaden, his graying buzzcut peaking partly through the door, gaze fixed on you, barely giving the guy a glance.
“Indie, be a dear, and unplug the acoustics for me. Electric bill is up my ass, yeah?”
“Sure thing.” You muttered, deflating slightly, as you nodded at him.
He looked to the Looper, fleeting quick judgement, a smile playing at his lips.
“She taking care of you?” He asked, leaning on the syllables long enough to make you uncomfortable. The Looper looked between you and Kaden, and nodded, offering a small smile.
“She’s been really helpful.” He’s quiet but earnest, and you almost smile back him. Kaden pays no mind.
“Good.” He says, before backing out, closing the door.
“You’re name is Indie?”
“No.” You say flatly, hopping down from your seat to unplug the music. He shifts on his feet uncomfortably. “He thinks it’s funny, I guess.”
“It’s kind of cute.” He says, like it slips out, and you can tell when you look up he regrets it. His face turns red, and his eyes lock onto his shoes. It’s sweet, you think, chuckling lightly. He looks up, hearing you, looking devastated until he sees your smile. There’s a soft look in his eye then.
A shout comes from down the street, muffled through the door, and his face drops.
“Shit.” He says under his breath, starting to back up. “Sorry, it was nice to— I’ve gotta, I’ll just go.” He trips over himself, reaching for the door suddenly.
“Are they looking for you?” You ask, watching him as he deflates. He nods.
He thought the place was abandoned, and he was surprised because he was looking for somewhere to hide. You should’ve picked up on it, too distracted by your music, and his smile, to think clearly. And he was now going to, what? Go out to meet them, because he’d stalled in here?
You didn’t know what he’d done to piss whoever off, but you knew, meeting them in the street, in this downtown, was bad idea. Loopers were always in trouble, and you didn’t want to hear about another one, this one, getting peeled up dead in an alley by tomorrow.
“Hop over the counter.” You say, the idea stuck to roof of your mouth.
He stares. “What?”
“Hop over the counter, idiot. You can hide here, just until they pass.”
He stares at you a little longer, that soft look back, a bit of disbelief hanging there. Then the shout comes again, closer this time, and he startles into action, sliding over the counter. He crouches beside you, holding his breath when your front door rattles, opening.
Busy day.
Three men come waltzing in, laughing and jeering as they enter, the sound echoing like hyenas. Two fan out into the shop, stalking down aisles and whistling as they go. The other, ginger with the scruffy beginnings of a beard, and hungry blue eyes comes towards you. You force a smile as he gets closer. He leans on the counter, breathing heavily just in front of you.
He smells like alcohol and mildew.
“Any business lately?”
Normally, you’d probably say something snarky, but you’re hyperaware of who’s crouching just behind the counter. No need to draw attention.
“Just the usual. Anything I can help you find?” You ask, trying to keep polite.
The Looper is so close beside you, you can feel him shift on his feet slightly, trying to keep steady, and his fingertips brush your thigh briefly. You bite you lip, holding in a shiver as goosebumps rise just beneath your jeans. Get ahold of yourself.
“No, baby. We’ll find him.” The guy at the counter looks you up and down slowly, smirking. “Have I seen you around before?”
You hold your breath, keeping your smile stuck on your face, even as he reaches his hand out like he’s about to touch you. Your knuckles whiten against the counter. The Looper, still hidden, shifts again and you can’t see his face, but you can imagine he’s getting nervous. Maybe even indignant, you’d like to think, with how this creep is talking to you.
But it won’t help either of you if he comes out from his hiding place in the heat of the moment. You move a hand slowly to the top of his head; rubbing your thumb over the crown of his hair gently. He freezes beneath your touch.
You force a light laugh, keeping the red-headed guy’s eyes on you. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Maybe we should change that.” His smirk widens, seemingly encouraged.
His posse comes out from the back of the shop finally, drawing his attention away. They shake their heads, bouncing on their knees, ready to continue the hunt further down the road. One has his hand rested on a handgun tucked in his belt.
“That’s alright.” You say mildly. “I’m not really interested.”
The guy clicks his tongue, looking between you and his gang, starting to back towards the door.
“It’s too bad. Maybe you’ll change your mind.” He slips a card towards you, with his number scrawled on it. You barely spare it a glance. He winks.
They’re out the door, and down the road, within the next few minutes. You and the Looper stay still, breathing heavily as you wait for the sound of them to fade out. He starts to stand slowly, and you slump slightly in relief.
“God, he’s an asshole.” You mutter.
He laughs, genuine and heartily, looking over softly. “My name’s Seth. Seth Pryce.”
You nod, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Seth.”
“Oh, Indie,” He chuckles, looking out the window, towards the gang. “I owe you one. I’m pretty sure Kid Blue was out for blood this time.”
“You owe me several, pretty boy. Was that a joke? His breath was awful.” You gag for emphasis and his smile widens. The sight of it makes you feel warm.
Indie.
Okay, maybe, there was one person you liked that called you that.
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