Beyond The Fury
Characters- Mob!Hardin Scott x Reader
- Warning- Mentions of drugs, death, murder, dirty cops and a lot of really bad language coming from Hardin. If I have missed anything please tell me below. Smut in the next chapter!
Description- requested by @kiarawilliams127 this is the one where Hardin Scott is the ruthless son of a well know and respected Mob boss. This is set at a time where Ken is still in Hardin’s life and never left or changed. Hardin never had a chance to hate him, which led him too this..
Slow burn ahead??
Time has done damage we never could.
Maybe not physical damage but the mental challenge was definitely there. Lurking and waiting.
I have seen so many things over the course of these past years, been so many places. Lost so many people.
All because of my fucking father.
Back when I was a child my father was nothing but a drunken idiot. He couldn’t protect me nor my mother. My sweet sweet mother.. she was a fool. So blind to his game and to his words.
It was all proven to her one night. Just how much of a monster Ken actually is. She had to learn the hard way.
I replay the memory in my head everytime I try to sleep. It was the source of all my nightmares. The roots that night had planted in my mind were far too deep for me ever to forget. To ever move away from.. so I resorted to this.
Drug money, mafia meetings, money laundering and mindless killing- I wouldn’t say it was mindless. My chest aches with heavy guilt everytime I recall what I do to people. It isn’t right, I know that much. But for Ken to stay as far away from my mother as possible it’s something I need to do..
I was never given a chance to be soft. I was always bloody knuckles and punishing splinters of glass..
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me.
I frantically toss and turn in my sheets, the fabric tangling around my legs before I kick them off completely. Small beads of cold sweat form on my forehead as I sit up from my bed, my head pounding.
My breath shakes as I push myself up from the bed and walk towards the window where I open it to let in some cool air.
Another nightmare. Fucking fantastic.
I stand beneath the warm droplets of water, my back pressed firmly against the freezing cold tiles. How did I let it come to this? Was it even slightly worth it to continue with this charade? To continue to hate myself and everything that I am? And what I have came to be.
I feel my shoulders begin to slump, my head rolling back until it harshly hits the wall behind me. The tension that possessed my body soon washed away. My wounds sting as my bloodied knuckles strain beneath the water, although the pain was my only reminder that I wasn’t numb. That this was indeed my shitty reality and I was still trying to live through it as best as I possibly could.
I am lost. Completely and utterly broken. I was left to be swallowed by the darkness in an endless abyss a long time ago.. I fear I cannot be saved.
It’s hard to sell dreams to someone who has only ever walked through nightmares. That’s why I have never believed anyone when they were convinced they could help me.
I turn off the shower, allowing my body to grow cold with the crisp air of the bathroom. The once warm droplets of water streaming down my pale inked skin.
Once out of the shower I throw on a black button up shirt and dress pants. There was no occasion, I just wanted to look like I had my shit together. Even if I didn’t.
I trot down the stairs to the kitchen and open a bottle of whisky that sat looking awfully lonely on the counter top. Bringing the bottle to my lips I tilt my head back and take a large swig of the strong liquid. My mouth buzzed and I bite back the urge to make a sour expression at the taste that electrified each and every tastebud I had in my mouth.
What a way to start the day.
Today was the day. I was finally getting to play and sing at tonight’s little get together. It wasn’t so much a get together but I knew people would be there to watch. The thought was unsettling. To have all those strangers prying eyes feast upon me in such a ‘scandalous’ outfit..
I suddenly shiver as I then begin to rummage through the large bag Bruce had threw at me a couple of days ago, pulling out a gorgeous gold dress that was decorated with thousands of sequins.
It was absolutely breath taking.
I stare at it for a moment, chewing on my bottom lip as I get lost in a train of thought. Maybe it was too pretty for me to wear? Would I look silly? Could I even pull this off..?
Insecurity began to eat away at my brain, however I knew that if I didn’t wear at least one of the outfits I had been given Bruce would be furious with me and the last thing I ever wanted to do was make my boss mad.
Bruce seemed to me that he was a survivor. Everytime I meet someone who seems to have had an interesting backstory I long to know what made them this way. What they had to do to stay alive when life was so unforgiving.
As mountains do not rise without earthquakes.
I gulp down my thoughts, standing from my seated position in which I had been sat clad in a towel for almost half an hour.
I untuck the fluffy towel and let it pool around my ankles, my damp hair brushing against my back as I bend over to pull my white underwear up my legs.
I take the soft fabric of the dress and slip it over my head, my arms finding my back as I pathetically try to zip it up by myself.
The creamy sheets of the silk dress slipped onto my shoulders, peppering my body with soft, sensual kisses. Like a lover, it entirely seduced my senses and swiftly conveyed me into a moment of bliss.
I turn in the mirror, trying to catch a glance of my reflection where I could officially decide if I liked how the dress fitted or not.
I huff out. Maybe it will look better with heels?
I haven’t wore a pair of heels in god knows how long, so it should be interesting to try and find a decent pair to wear. Most are scuffed and discoloured from my college days where I thought it was acceptable to walk around with heels on for almost 8 hours daily.
I slip on the heels I had managed to find sitting at the bottom of my wardrobe, sighing softly as I already knew my feet were going to absolutely ache when this shift was over and done with.
Next I move onto my make-up. I never wanted to go overboard with it so I simply patted on some nude lipstick and took my mascara through my eyelashes. I added some gold shimmer to the corners of my eyes to give them a sweet highlight and make them look larger whilst also subtly colour coordinating my eyes with my dress.
Luckily it was still early in the morning so when I left for work not many people were able to judgingly stare. I knew to them I looked extremely overdressed but I was only doing what I was told.. plus I actually felt kinda pretty?
London’s harsh air whipped at my exposed legs as my heels clanked against the sidewalk. A warmth arises to my cheeks due to the frosty breeze that continued to abrasively blow in my direction, luckily the walk from my apartment to the bar wasn’t very far.
Besides the cold weather that mercilessly englufed me in a treacherous numbing my chest felt light with butterflies. I was so excited! I finally got to play the piano that I have emotionlessly stared at for the last couple of weeks…
As I think about it my mind drifts to all the people that would be there, and then it hits me- what if Hardin shows up?
My heart spasms and my breath hitches in my throat. Something about him enticed me.. lured me in.
His voice, his demeanour. His everything.. part of me wanted to know more about him but that part of me was always hushed by the strong thought to stay away from him.
I know nothing of what he does or who he is. All I know is that he must hold some sort of importance.
The sort that made even the bravest of men quake with fear..
Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture.
I have grown to hate Ken with every crumbling inch of my very being. What he allowed to happen was unforgivable.. and unforgettable.
They say my trauma made me strong. I was young, I never wanted to be strong. I wanted to be safe. Loved. Unafraid of whatever lurked beyond my front door. However that was deemed extremely difficult when I was constantly fucking afraid of leaving my mothers goddamn side.
I let out a deep sigh as I push open the doors to the bar. Ken wanted me to collect some money Bruce recently owed us and to say I was shocked when the place was absolutely packed was judged very fucking incorrectly.
And it was only 5:30 p.m.
I feel my face lock with confusion as my eyes drift over each and every individual that was seated at the multiple tables. All of which were angled towards the stage. I take a hand through my hair, my eyes finding the bar and when my eyes meet Bruce’s I tilt my head.
Where fuck is she?
I watched as my feet glide against the glossy hardwood floor, my scuffed boots positioned next to the polished pointer shoes of ‘upper class’ men who were accompanied by stuck up women.
I reach the bar, my head drooping to the counter as I wait for my presence to be made known by Bruce- which doesn’t take too long, thankfully.
Whilst I waited I took on board the multiple initials that had been carefully carved into the aged wood of the counter by young hooligans. A small smile ghosts my face.
“Hardin?” Bruce speaks out, a seriousness to his voice. My ears perk up and I lazily drag my eyes up from the counter where they then meet his face.
“The money, Bruce.” I seethe as I warn him, my hands finding my pockets as I desperately try to expand my shrinking patience.
My muscles begin to tense and my teeth grind together as I feel my stomach twist. I need a drink. I’ve been stressed from the moment I opened my fucking eyes this morning.
Just before my agitation got the best of me a loud ring of interference booms from the mic that stood on the stage and ricochets off of the hollow walls of the bar, catching my attention.
My eyes frantically dart to the stage. I oddly feel my chest tickle as it flutters and my pants become uncomformably tight. There she is. What a fucking beauty.
“U-uhm hello e-everyone. I’m Y/n and I’ll be playing f-for you guys tonight.” Nervousness was evident in her voice as she tumbles over her words in the most adorable way, her tongue darting out to slide over her plump lips.
Erotic thoughts swirl through my mind as I notice how tight her tits appear in the dress she is wearing. Each of her curves were inched in perfectly and I just couldn’t help the small, inaudible groan that left my throat. Fuck. She looks fucking amazing.
She squints up at the warm light that was centred on her body, her eyes glittering with each beautiful colour that was flecked in her iris.
I want her. I need her.
When I saw her up on that stage, it was as if -momentarily- nothing hurt anymore. The storm I had raging inside of me was finally calm and it was all because of a single glance at her..
To me it was pathetic. I’ve only ever encountered this girl a handful of times and yet here I am, longing to see her and desperately hoping that she wanted to see me too.
As she began to sing I was completely captivated by her. Her voice was smooth, clear, quiet but also powerful. Soothing, in a way. In a way that mended my fragile soul and took charge of all my senses. It was beautiful. But also extremely fucking sexy.
Her eyes meet mine and I notice a hot flush spread across her cheeks. Her lips part in the most lustful way before her gaze quickly moves to the floor. I smirk.
I soon hear a hum come from my side which breaks my daze. I look to Bruce in annoyance. What the fuck is he humming at?
“What?” I snap, my brows scrunching as they rest lowly on my forehead.
“You don’t see it.”
“See what, exactly?” I push further, exasperation evident in my voice.
“The way her face lights up whenever she sees you.”
My mouth snaps shut and my eyes discreetly find the stage again. Any sarcastic or rude remark I was going to make has vanished. Does it really light up? Or does it fall?
My jaw clenches as my eyes once again drink her in. I’m drunk on her and that’s saying something considering I’ve been dousing myself in alcohol all damn day.
She was the sweetest of poisons.
And I would gladly take a swig with no hesitation.
She is peace. The only sanity held in this torn up city. Although I may not know her fully I feel as if I know her enough.
My mother always warned me of the drugs that swarmed the streets. However she never warned me of the ones with green eyes and a heart beat.
His presence was the upmost addicting thing I have ever had to crave. He painted the perfect picture for all my wants, needs and desires.
He was perfectly imperfect. But that’s exactly what I liked about him.
I felt his gaze scorch into my figure with the most intense multitude. He sparked a flame within me and rudely did not provide me with an explanation on how to put it out.
Time comes to a stand still as my performance ends. Small applauses echoed from all around the spacious room, but the only one that seemed to have any meaning to me was Hardin’s.
I blow loving kisses towards the crowd before I cascade from the stage, sluggishly making my way towards the bar where I find my place next to Hardin.
“I’ve not seen someone use that stage in years.” My eyes finally find the English man perched beside me, his black dress shirt clung tightly to his chest and I had to force my gaze away from him.
“So quiet tonight, Dove. Something bothering you?” He perks one of his thick brows and I give a hum, shaking my head as I smile. Dove. What a pretty nickname…
“Just tired is all.. how’s your drink?” I pathetically try to divert the attention away from myself, however Hardin is no fool and clicks on immediately.
“You were amazing up there. And trust me, I don’t just dish out compliments.” He spares me a quick glance. I feel my cheeks begin to redden and my palms become damp with sweat.
Before I can thank him for his kind words that yanked on my heart strings a unfamiliar man slithers his arm around my shoulder. He reeked of nothing other than alcohol and cheap cologne.
“Ello’ sunshine.” He slurs, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I look to Hardin and his face stiffens.
“Uhm..” I gently push against the mans chest, internally cringing as he just chuckles at my weak attempt.
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as he leans in again, his horrid breath fanning my face before it just suddenly disappears…
“Leave her the fuck alone.” Hardin effortlessly throws the drunken man back a couple feet and finds his place in front of me. Like he was almost garding me from the him.
Bruce emerges from the back room hidden behind the counter and his eyes narrow as he takes in the scene unfolding in front of him.
“Y/n your shifts over, go home.” His eyes remained trained on the drunken idiot and my jaw slackens.
“I said go home!” He grits through clenched teeth, his small eyes finally find my face and I raise both of my hands in a surrender as I march my way around Hardin. Giving him one last smile before I head towards the back room to grab my things.
Bruce seemed irritated- angry. I did not intend on pushing him any further so I scurry to the back exit as quickly as my wobbly legs could carry me, my bag strap slung messily over my shoulder.
My arms push open the door, the cold air immediately attacking my bare skin.. however it wasn’t the air that gave me goosebumps.
There is some disturbance up ahead, a dark figure throws a man to the ground and what I hear next leaves me weak. Speechless. My ears ring wildly and it’s as if time has began moving in slow motion.
Two rounds echo from the gun.. two bullets impaling the unfortunate man that now laid lifeless on the stony ground. The gunshots briefly light up the ally way and I quickly clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle my scream. It was him.. it was Hardin! I violently push back against the wall and crouch behind a large garbage skip. The smell of rotton food filling my nostrils. But nothing could mask the stench of death that now lingered throughout the entire alley way.
Hardin… Hardin just shot someone. The rude man from the bar.
Hot tears prick my eyes and when I was certain I was now alone I bolt from my hiding place and towards the lights of the street. Hoping it would offer me some sort of sanctuary.
I tumble over one of my heels as it slips from my foot, instead of sliding it back on I kick the other off and run for the hills- or my apartment for that matter barefooted.
Rain conjures a sweet but deadly pattern upon my skin. Billions of clear globes cascading from London’s confident night sky. I shiver, my hands coming up to wrap around my torso as I weakly attempt to provide myself with some sort of warmth. My pace begins to quicken as I continue my jog towards my apartment, practically falling through the front door when I get there. My hair soaked and my dress sticking to my damp skin.
I push back against my front door, my eyes falling shut as I let out a loud sigh. Hardin killed a man. He murdered someone! The hairs on the back of my neck stand uncomfortably and it’s only then that I realise I still haven’t turned on any of my apartment lamps.
My apartment has a scent that lingers… cigarettes? Pine? Alcohol..? None of which I associate myself with.
The darkness shades the living room from the streetlights outside, like the thick velvet curtain at an opera show.
I shakily bring my hand up to the sleeve of my dress, slowly peeling it from my shoulder only to be stopped by the eeriest sound I have ever heard. A cough.
My eyes dart in the direction the noise has came from and it’s only then I notice the dark silhouette of someone’s frame. My heart began beating so fast I’m sure it could be heard even by the intruder, it was as if it was going to jump out of my rib cage.
My hands tremble and my eyes begin to water as I sluggishly reach my hand towards the door knob of the front door. Something was there in the darkness- watching and waiting. And it was anything but good.
With every move I make terror twists and tightens in my chest, like a sharp blade being forced through the protective plate of my sternum.
“I wouldn’t do that, Y/n.” I stop. Completely paralysed by the familiar voice. I had long forgotten that he did indeed eventually find out my name… which made this whole thing a bit more creepier.
“H-Hardin? What are you doing h-here..”
End Of Chapter Two.
After We Collided | TEASER, GIFS.
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After - Molly & Tessa Scene
- Molly & Tessa
are they holding hands or no?