the daughter sheriff never engaged in the life her father wanted her to have, therefore, she worked at the local saloon. besides drunk men and heatwaves, everything was normal. boringly so— until a tall, cocky bandit came through.
starring: bandit! riki x reader
cw: cowboy au implied of smoking/ drinking readers is a bit younger mention of racism and misogyny weapons suggestive i highkey hate this sry in advance
since last year, caused by the unceasing tentatives of your father, the sheriff, to find yourself a man, you started working at the local saloon.
on a facade, you were searching for “possibilities candidates” but truthfully, you were protecting the little independence you had left.
your job didn’t help but confirm your decision of not wanting to settle down. the saloon was located at the entrance of the little town you lived in, the only one in kilometres. which caused every type of man to come in— from locals, to foreigners, and even bandits.
on a side note, you never got the narrative behind ‘em, people in those parts loooved to talk, hiding the reason why; boredom, envy, loneliness. they couldn’t be bothered to think outside the little box which this town provided. often bandits werent even evil people, just different from the norm.
still you couldn’t voice this kind of thoughts, mostly cause you were a female— what could you understand about it? and also, the title sheriff daughter weighted hard on your head.
today was just like any another day, the heat was making your hair stick to the back of your neck, so you decided to braid ‘em ,to avoid extra heat. thankfully, the saloon wasn’t the busiest today. five tables were occupied in total: two by different friends of your dad, you prayed the lord they were too drunk to ask question.
but luck wasn’t con your side today.
“sugar! come over here.” one of them called, the way he adressed you already making you sigh but still, you spoke with the manners your father taught you.
“can i help you gentlemen’s?” you said through a forced, polite smile. “you want me to get you more beers?”
“nah, just—“ he started, before tugging your hair tie, causing your hair to fall back over your shoulder. “keep ‘em like that, yeah? you look more feminine ‘sugar.”
you wanted to smash his head onto the table, hard, so maybe those ugly gold teeth would fall off, along with that infuriating smirk. but couldn’t.
instead you find yourself chuckling, before going back to cleaning the other tables, in the background, those assholes were still laughing, but you pushed through.
their conversation then shifted, just like their attention to the bandit notice board in front of you. after (of course) making other crude comments, the oldest started, voice rough from the too many cigarettes smoked over the years.
“seven new bandits, look at their rewards, they must be really low scums— look how much they wantin’ for just one.”
another one chimed in. “look at their nasty face, hah! bet your goddamn horse they aren’t even from here.”
“savages.” then, a dart hit the poster, bullseye.
the day passed achingly slow after, between serving drinks and cleaning, the only thing that was helping was the afternoon breeze, coming from the small wooden window at your left.
you stepped closer, before grabbing a cigar from your pocket, the calming burn filled your lungs before the smoke dissipated in the building. thankfully, even the most annoying man knew the unspoken rule of not disturbing you on a smoke break.
at least that’s what you thought.
the front door creaked open, a soft thud echoed for a few seconds until— “hello.” a rough, but measured voice came through.
“do you know were i could find a place to spend the night?”
that when your gaze flicked upwards, but you couldn’t see much, the bottom part of the man face was covered by a kerchief— causing his voice to be slighty muffled— and the top part by an hat.
the only thing you could make out was that he definitely wasn’t a local, giving by the height and skin tone, and that he had somewhat manners.
“uh, there’s a place near this saloon, you can take your horse too, if you have it.” you said, not noticing how your back straightened.
but he did, lips curling slighty under the brown kerchief. “that’s lovely. thank you.”
before you could say anything, he was gone. boots thudding against the hard floor.
you didn’t think too much of it as you closed the saloon and walked back to your house, still, maybe ‘cause it had been as whole since a male had adressed you with decency, the mysterious guy lingered in your mind. the trail of thoughts got interrupted by the door closing.
your father appeared in the door way, a long sigh leaving his mouth as he dropped his sheriff hat onto the wooden counter near by. lilia, his horse, coukd still be heard in the distance.
“rough day?” you asked while working on dinner
he grunted in response. “yeah, bandits are overflowing n’town, goddamn animals.” — “i’m gonna give you new stuff to put up on the notice board.”
you nodded, biting down the words ‘if you didn’t even catch ‘em, how can you say that’. instead you placed on the plate his dinner, sliding it on the table.
he broke the silence again. “g’nna to back to the office later. don’t stay up.” with that, he stood up and didn’t look back as the door slammed shut. a soft sigh left your lips. at least he didn’t—
“and don’t think i’ve forgotten the whole ‘i’m working bullishit.’ you’re a fine woman, c’mon [name.]”
“so, what do you think?” aisha, one of the few barable people in this town asked. you shrugged, too busy cleaning the counter top and half empty glasses of beer to listen.
“didn’t hear ya.” that earned a scoff from the poor girl. turning on her seat as she watched you move off the counter, putting new wanted! poster on the wall.
“course you didn’t.” she muttered before adding. “i saidd. tonight, my uncle’s farmstead, there’s a rodeo, ya coming?”
“okay, fine.” you said, while fixing the last one.
nishimura riki; wanted; 320,000 $
“thats a goddamn wave of pence.” — “it is.” you agree. “why even put it on, if they don’t got a face?”
“ask the sheriff.” a dry laugh left your lips as you said it.
later that night, as you wrapped around yourself your shirt— too thin for the cold wind, you found yourself getting dragged by aisha inside.
the place was a mess, the whole town was in there (a nightmare honestly) shouts, sounds of beer slurping, horse whining from whiplash injury. you could head your father voice somewhere, and made a mental note to avoid that part of ths residence.
she pulled you to the side, presenting you her two friends— loud, obnoxious, the kind of guy you’d serve at the bar.
they would speak with their eyes instead of words, but it wasn’t a good thing. they don’t look, they stare, undress you with that predatory gaze as if they had any right too.
you didn’t even try to keep up with the conversation, looking around the room until—
well, more like you saw that annoyingly pretty hat on top of his head.
but his kerchief was off and jesus christ. you weren’t really a religious girl, but if that wasn’t god’s favourite, who could it be?
he was leaning onto a pillar, in the back of the room, talking to another guy, who was dressed with similar clothes. but in his presence was completely forgotten.
strong jaw, but lips that you just knew, were soft and tasted like honey. you didn’t need to imagine how he sounded like, but you saw how his adam apple bobbed in his throat as he spoke/drank. your gaze traveled up to the sharp bridge of his nose, and stopped at his eyes. they were the kind that could’ve make even the most innocent, religious girl break.
you realised you were staring at the blonde head as aisha snapped you out of your thoughts. pulling you in other useless conversations, your mind was elsewhere.
you didn’t catch that he stared back after, before his friend snapped him out. “no, no.”
“didn’t say nothin’.” the taller guy said, easing his hands. — “didn’t have to. sheriff daughter, yeah. she’s nice than him, but still—” jake, his friend tried, but he knew it futile, not when the other was tracing her every move. from the way she grabbed herself a glass of a dark drink, or how she didn’t look once at the exhibition in front of her.
hours later, you needed fresh air, you knew rodeo’s had never been your thing. seeing how those men used the animals just to boost their ego icked you.
that how, you found yourself outside, leaning on one of the wooded door, ignoring the crack it was making, just like the shouts from the people inside as you smoked another cigar stole from your father. you couldn’t ignore the cold that was threatening your body tho.
“do locals underdress too or it’s just your thing, beautiful?”
you jolted, a curse leaving your lips from the sheer surprise. he laughed, the sound boyish, rich, filling the farmstead as he leaned to one of the pillar near you, keeping a mindful distance. “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
you were in pure silence, shocked from too many things.
first, he approached you, called you beautiful (and you didn’t mind it) and he’s polite, besides looking like that.
“it’s fine, just, didn’t see you.” you spoke, looking down at your cigar, before back at the guy at your left. “want ‘it?”
“yeah, pass that.” he hummed, before moving closer, not quite closing the distance but still. from there, you could sleep his scent— the kind that lingered even tho you didn’t necessarily wanted to.
ash and tobacco, hay obv, but with a freshness that made it different from anybody else.
a few drags filled the silence between you too, you couldn’t be bothered filling it. but he spoke. “you don’t fit in this place.”
what— “sorry?” you blinked, amazed by his, well his everything, but let’s say fowardness.
“been watching you.” he said as he passed the cigar back. “you’re smarter, a town like this. . is a cage.” then, to easy the conversation. “and ya sure as hell can’t dress for ths weather.”
you don’t acknowledge his words, can’t, not when your ears are growing warmer under your hair. “did you find the place to sleep?” that earns another laugh from him, he knows what you’re doing, but won’t press.
“yeah, a little crowed but s’alright. horse loved it.”
the two of you keep talking for a while, the cold wind is a constant background in the farmstead, causing goosebumps all over your skin. he looked like he wanted to say something, but you were faster.
“s’getting late, i need to find my father.” you said, brushing your clothes, throwing the cigar out.
“with smoke still reeking from you? mm’ dunno if that’s a smart thing to do.”
“but—” you started, going home alone was not on the list, with the people that came through at night.
“lemme walk you’ home.” he hummed before standing up, and he was tall, annoyingly so — sure you weren’t tall but still. you don’t even know why your mind went in that direction, but the way he had to tilt his head to properly look at you? blonde pieces of hair peeking out? yeah.
that is probably why you couldn’t find in you to resit, and just feel to steps with him. the night was quiet, thanks to the temperatures finally dropping, which made everyone— beside you, taking how you dressed up— more at ease, as you guys walked away from aisha’s uncle farmstead, the shouts dissipated, leaving only the sounds of cicadas filling the empty roads.
“you never told me your name.” you muttered, god knows why, after a bit. “what?” he asked, leaning down to hear better. you swallowed, before trying again.
“your name.” you repeated. “i’m [name], you?”
it didn’t go missing how his eyes flickered slighty towards the ground, hesitating. he licked his lips, throat bobbing. “nishimura riki.” a few beats passed but you just nodded. repeating the name, testing how it sounded falling from your lips.
“you’re not from here.” you pointed out, but immediately reassured him, given how his eye’s sharpened. “where?”
now, under the dark moon, nishimura had been throw off for the first time in his whole life. no one, understandably so, had ever been okay with the fact that he was different. paler skin, almond eyes, sharp nose and everything else. people would get killed for that— he saw it, so defence came naturally.
the revolver placed on his leather brow belt proved it. but you? you didn’t care, not at all. and he is sure, that out of all the guys back there, not once, you looked at them like that. curios, welcoming.
it caused him to slip. “i, uh— far east.” he saw you nod. before you spoke again, pointing at the weapon latched to him. “ever used it?”
“besides animals and for stupid games?” nishimura repeated, wanting to make sure that’s what you were asking. when you didn’t budge, he sighed, palming it. “few times, not proud of it.”
he stopped at the house in front of him. it was clear you were the sheriff daughter, besides the slight creaks of paint near ths side walls, it was the best residence of the town.
“thanks for this, didn’t have to.” you hummed, taking him in, unsure if you’ll ever see this handsome man again. he waved his hand in response, stepping closer. “only little boys would be that dumb, walking back alone in this parts is dangerous for anyone.”
then, he untied the kerchief off his belt, which he had previously put it there, and moved— your breath itched slighty, from this distance, you could smell that damned fragrance again.
his thumb brushed over the back of your neck, a firm, but not suffocating nod holding the kerchief together. excluding the warmth his action caused, the feeling of the fabric covering your shoulders was definitely better than the cold wind caressing it.
his eyes never left yours as he did, you took note how he titled your head slighty. he gave the back of your neck a stroke, before pulling away, leaving you stunned.
“go inside [name], bandits linger at night.”
he turned on his heel and left, walking back to the residence where he was sleeping, presumably.
your fingers found the skin under your jaw, feeling the stead thump! thump! of your heartbeat under the flesh, which increased whenever that smirk invaded your brain.
the same cold breeze lingered the day after as you stepped out of your house, grazing the skin of your face as you headed down town to help with daily commissions. the town buzzed with people every first saturday of the month.
any kind of people came there, from farmers selling their products to minstrels who entertained kids and built games for the day being.
you were now talking with hannah, the lady who seller liquors, you needed to stock it up. last night the plsced was filled with drunk men, meaning they emptied every single bottle.
the market was close, so you had decided to walk back there. but as the weight of the bag strained your shoulder, you realised you overestimated yourself a bit too much. but before you can grip the bag filled with liquors, a hand came faster, sliding between the plastic straps and tugging it away, the sting on your hand slowly subsiding.
at first, you stiffed, thinking it was one of the guys you met at the local church last sunday, weirdly obsessed was an understatement. but any complaint stopped from leaving your lips when you looked up.
“need a hand?” nishimura said, and you never felt self conscious about your looks with a man, but seeing how effortlessly attractive he was today, the cold panting his nose slighty red, made you almost envious.
on the other side, tho. . he was thinking the same, you were there, cheeks tinted with a warm blush caused by the cold, hair messy from the wind; it was fucking his head up.
but he didn’t say that, instead, took the keys of the saloon from your hand and walked in. “where do i put this?” he asked. “it’s fine i can—”
“didn’t say that beautiful, where do i put them?”
you scoffed, but still, a faint smile found place on your lips. “in the back, follow me.” that same smile got bigger when he answered with a ‘yes ma’am.’
the atmosphere wasn’t tense as he helped you, besides some bickering when he made fun of your height as you tried to put some brandy and rum on the top shelfs.
as he tried to help you, taking the few bottles from your hand, he noticed. the kerchief he gave you days before tied around your wrist.
“looks good.” he said, brushing his thumb against the fabric, before getting back to setting up the liquors. you were silent for a few seconds, to busy replaying the warmth of his hand against your skin. “keep it there, m’kay?”
before you could pull back, he leaned down, lips brushing against the fabric for a few seconds, not kissing it, just taking the scent pouring near your wrist.
“o—okay.” you swallowed, hesitating before pulling away. for a second, nishimura thought he crossed the line, and was ready to smack his head into the stuff you just bought. but then he saw that shy, rosy smile on your lips, and just smiled back.
a week later, you were busy cleaning the central wodded table, while your father took your ear off with complains and complaints. “i just, want you to be secure ‘hon, a nice man, y’know i’d love grandkids running round.”
exactly, you’d love. not me.
but just like usual, you restrained. “i know father, but i haven’t found someone worth of taking away your surname yet, they’re either too old or too savage.”
you surely couldn’t tell him about the encounter of yesterday, the brown kerchief pulsing on the right wrist of your hand. nor how the bottle he was holding was the same nishimura tried yesterday, soft pink lips tinted with liquor.
while your father and his friends kept chewing your ear off, you had changed positions, wandering near the wanted! notice board, when a not-so unfamiliar name flashed your eyes.
the bold graphic mocked at you, and now, days later, you understood why the name sounded familiar. he was wanted? but for what?
you let your fingers run on the yellowish paper, the ink, despite how old it was, still smudged under your touch. still now, you couldn’t to recall what made you do it, or more, you didn’t want to say it out loud.
you checked around the saloon: your father had now shifted his attention to michel, his beloved lieutenant, and the other tables were filled either with blind elder people or drunk messes. so when you carefully removed the poster off the wall, and folded in your pocket— next to that kerchief —nobody noticed.
the saloon should’ve closed earlier today, something about a town festival happening downtown, that what your father told you. so near the closing hour, nobody was there, and you were left alone, tapping your polished brown boots against the floor as you looked at the piece of paper in your hands.
then nishimura, leaning against the saloon old door, looking at you with that same gaze from a week days prior. this time he wasn’t wearing a hat, blonde hair framing down his face, still another kerchief— same color as the one he ‘lend you’ — covered half of his face, and now you knew why.
“g’evening.” he spoke, walking down till where you were standing, looking down at the paper you were holding in your hands. “what’s that?”
“you tell me.” you said, sliding his wanted! poster over the table.
“about’ time you’d connect ths dots, angel.” he said. not wording out how clear it was that you had hidden it in your pocket, the folds still visible on the paper. “you hid it.”
besides the little name he had just gave you, which yeah, if felt damn good. . . “my father is ruthless to—“ you started, before stopping yourself. at your little slip, he pulled the fabric down. “bandits? yeah. hell, i know.”
a very shaky sigh left your lips, you were scared. whatever simmering emotion that had been burning inside you, finally broke through, revealing how scared you had been the whole day after you found out.
“hey— hey, beautiful. . listen to me, please?” his words made you bit your lips, a hundreds thousand thoughts running in your head. you weren’t sure about what to do, besides not telling anyone.
nishimura was quicker tho. “i’m not gonna hurt you.” his voice softened at that, the usual raw and gruff in his voice partly died down. that made you look up to him.
you had beautiful eyes, he thought.
“people love to talk, twist things into orribile stories.” but you still looked a bit scared, so he kept going agaisnt better judgment. “i’m not that kind of man [name], and i’m not dumb. not gonna fuck this up. not with you. swear on my leather boots”
“i won’t tell him.” you said after a few minutes of tensed silence. “but i swear to god, nishimura. don’t make me regret it.”
he sighed, slumping down on the seat near by. “thank you.”
“you gonna be around?” he added.
“i’m stuck here, yeah.” at that, he smiled. before sitting up and pulling out of your back pocket the matching fabric, and draping it over your head like a bandana.
“i’ll be back then.” he hummed, pushing a piece of hair out of your face, before disappearing like smoke once again.
and he did, with a boxy smile on his face and a tinted brown horse to his side.
seeing the beautiful creature immediately but a smile just as warm on your face, before you walked closer and let the animal nuzzle into your hand, after you made sure she was comfortable with it.
nishimura was amazed, both from how beautiful you looked when smiling like that— all of your face lighting up, eyes creasing— and by the way you were treating the horse like an animal and not some kind of possession.
“who’s this pretty girl?” you asked.
“dunno, never gave her a name.” he replied, while taking your hand in his, guiding you to pet her properly. “why’s that?” — “felt like owing her, i know she’s a female. strong legs and goes faster then you think.”
“i don’t need much else.” he continued, moving closer, his thigh brushing against yours while you pet her together.
then nishimura broke the comfortable atmosphere.
you didn’t though to much about it. if anyone saw you right now, letting a “bandit” steal yoy from your duties, they would’ve thought the devil had took you, and immediately sent to the town pastor.
but then his hands boxed your waist, pulling you up on the horse with a strength you now wanted to discover, and talked to you like you were someone worthy. . . temptation and sin never sounded softer.
the wet ground was tickling your boots as nishimura dragged you god knows where, some hung about learning how to properly use a weapon, in case some creeps would bother you.
“we’re close.” he said as an wooded, forgotten building came through, it was the old stable where everyone had lead how to ride a horse, now, people mostly came to practice shots.
“i’m warning you, my father and i never did this.” you warned him, which didn’t scare him. “s’fine, i’ll teach you.”
as you arrived, nishimura placed the cans in a line, putting enough distance between each one, while you loaded the revolver, which felt stiff in your hands. he snapped you out of your trance as he walked back to you, his thighs brushing against yours as he took the gun from you— checking it— the difference in how he held it was giant.
you could smell his scent again from this distance, that same minty but burnt perfume that lingered with each move he made. he raised the gun, his body moving with ease as he positioned himself before shooting a perfect straight line, one of the cans falling to the ground.
it was a sight to see, you hated guns, weapons, or whatever you’d like to call ‘em. but mostly you hated how men acted with them. but him? he didn’t use them to stroke his ego, it almost felt like an art form, as fucked up as it is.
your lil’ trance stopped when he coaxed your arms up, making you pick up the revolver, loading it with a sharp click. “don’t be this stiff, part your legs just a bit.” in all honesty, you were listening to half of the words that left those soft lips by the way he was pressing closer to you.
“good.” he said, velvety voice dragging from the colum of your neck to your ear, while he moved closer. “now, keep your arms straight.” he purred, his hands moving from your hips to guiding your arms, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. you prayed he wouldn’t notice. “go on, shoot.” and you did.
the can fell to the ground, while you grinned like a kid, and when he saw that, he couldn’t help but smile. “good job.”
you wanted to push nishimura, telling him he shouldn’t go behind people like that. but why lying? you could still feel his touch pulsing in your blood. you closed your mouth, huffing ‘asshole’ under your breath.
“yeah, yeah. take another shot f’me?” he asked, hands overing near your waist as you reloaded, taking a deep breath before angling your hips like before, to help your balance. you followed his instructions. earning another good shoot, and praise.
“see? you’re a natural.” he said, before brushing his lips agaisnt the colum of your neck.
that was a bad, horrible, hair pulling idea— your brain screamed at you, fast steps echoing in the dark night as you reached for the residence where nishimura slept. outside of it, there was the new friend you made today, that pretty horse, who saw too what happend. and, on your life, you bet she felt the tension as much as you did.
the cold didn’t faze you like the night when you met, where you first learned how scary desire (and other things you didn’t want to name) really is.
now, every road you took, you hoped to catch his eyes somewhere. everytime you came back from commission, you prayed to feel that warmth of his hand again, holding it for you while staying close— making sure nobody would bother you.
or how you spent nights looking at the scenery outside of your room, where the little incident with the revolver happened; whole reason you were doing what you were doing right now.
because you knew, it could’ve never be temporary, just like nishimura said, voice run around town. and ‘sceriff daughter is finally seen with a man’ was a scoop nobody dreamed of running away from. let’s not forget that he was a bandit too, god knows what—
“[name]?” a rough, low voice cut through your thoughts.
oh, shit. you were so engrossed in this situation that you didn’t even realised you had knocked. now a sleepy nishimura was looking at you.
his blonde hair were messier, he had definitely run his fingers through it multiple times. the first two buttons of his shirt where open, revealing a tattoo near his collarbones.
and those damned lips, the same one you imagined kissing yours for the whole day, hell. for the whole week.
nishimura on the other hand, was too busy staring at your pretty little self to realise how fucked up you were.
he tried, really— he tried to keep himself at bay. you were the sheriff daughter, that day at the old stable had been a dangerous slip. but with the way you were looking up to him, all rational thoughts were evaporating like gun ash.
you had never been prettier; he could tell you walked there fast, ths little tank you had under the coat slipped from your shoulder, revealing a silver of your soft skin which reflected in the light, accentuating your collarbones.
he swallowed the raw need before speaking.
“are you okay?” he asked, voice dropping in a soothing note that had never been there before, you noticed. nishimura did too, causing his jaw to tighten slighty. that did not your infatuation at all. and when you didn’t answer? he tilted your face up, sofltly tapping on your cheek.
“[name], c’mon. you’re worrying me.”
“i— you’re fucking with my head. and you should go, before someone finds out, this. . you.” your words, matched with the shakiness of it, made his chest tighten, heart hammering against his ribs. “us.”
“but, then you’ll leave. and i can’t—“
you looked so frightened, but like the most heavily angel sent from above. god knows why god let you to him..
but what kind of bandit was he, if he didn’t take something from every city he passed?
so here, he started by your lips.
when his mouth, ghosted yours, you could feel him almost stopping, hesitating. but you pulled him down by that stupid kerchief and melted agaisnt him.
you tasted like everything he could never get— cinnamon, honey. you melted in his mouth with the same sweetness as a dessert after a long day of work.
a soft whimpered was muffled when he sucked on your tongue just like you imagined. the warmth of your mouths melting every rational thoughts he had.
if your father stomped there right now and pulled a gun to his head, he wouldn’t let himself stop. “you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he groaned, ignoring the strain of his neck as he kissed you slower. “been thinking about this since i saw your pretty ass serving beers.”
“you really think i’ll let you go?”
you laughed into his lips, pulling him back by that stupid cross necklace, not caring of the scandal you were getting tangled in.
you hoped the stories would live up to the real thing.
all for a damn screw up- bandit.
taglist: @prettybs ^3^ @veulette @gweoriz + i wanna tag @kissued MY BABE, cause if i got this idea is thanks to her new theme. love her. ++ js she gonna drop a sheriff! riki soon :3
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