For the prompt thing. F! Reader and Micah? If you can, thank you 😊🐀
Thank the lord, for the notorious Micah Bell has decided to come to bed for once. It's a rare sight, seeing Micah unwind and climb into bed beside you, letting out an array of soft grunts and groans as he hits the floor (probably over-doing them for dramatic effect.) Micah slithers up to you, snaking a hand around your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest like the needy bastard that he is.
You snuggle into him, your eyes falling shut, and you're about to fall asleep until Micah speaks up. "What is this?" Micah questions, tugging at the fabric around your body, kneading the vaguely familiar texture. "Is that my shirt?" he asks, deciding that the fabric is the same one that hugs his stomach on the daily.
"You mean our shirt?" you correct him with a soft and smug laugh, and despite not being able to see Micah's face, you know that he's rolling his eyes at your comment.
"Our shirt..." he mutters beneath his breath. "Needy thing. Guess you'll be wantin' to wear my hat next?"
"Like you don't take up every opportunity to place it on my head," you scoff. Micah places a kiss on his forehead, resting his lips against your skin as he continues talking, his facial hair brushing against your hairline.
"I already told you, you look nice in it," Micah tuts. "What's mine is yours, doll. But you ain't havin' those revolvers of mine," he warns, as if you could ever forget just how precious those guns are to him.
"Alright, I'll settle for Baylock," you gleefully thank him, peeking your head up to press your lips against his, only for Micah to playfully swat you away, scoffing at your bold remark.
Can I request something where Javier will go up to the reader at a random point during the day (when the reader is with someone) and will whisper the filthiest things to them and then go about his day as though nothing happened and then finally the reader does it back to him and he can't take it!!!
yusss here’s a drabble for you, female reader!!<3
He's a pain, isn't he? Javier knows what he's playing at, he knows exactly how to push your buttons, and what order to push them in, and he just has to do it whenever you're occupied. It started off small at first with Javier making minor sexual comments whenever you pass by, usually along the lines of "keep wearing yourself out with all those chores and you won't be able to ride me later," and "I'd ask to spend a few minutes out of camp with you, but I'd much rather make you wait."
Well, enough is enough. Despite the fact that you like them, they're slowly becoming agonisingly painful, and Javier takes a sadistic pleasure in seeing you fidget and squirm for the rest of the day, struggling to keep yourself steady as you attempt to keep your mind and body busy with camp chores. It's about time you got your revenge, and you're currently waiting for the opportunity to arise.
Does Javier know that you're out to get him? He seems to be surrounding himself with people today, bouncing from each camp member, nattering away and sending you the occasional smirk. What a smug bastard he can be, but you have to give him some credit - he plays this game well.
Finally, after God knows how long, the opportunity arises for you to take your revenge. Javier's standing by the campfire, a cup of coffee in his hand, zoning out, probably exhausted from all that socializing.
You approach him from behind. "Javi'?" you call out, and gently press your head against his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist, acting like the big spoon.
"Mh?" Javier responds, peering his head over his shoulder to raise a brow at you.
"Do you know where my lingerie is? You know which set, your favourite one," you casually ask.
"I have no idea," he replies with a small shrug. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I think you know why."
"I don't, love. How about you tell me?" Javier encourages in a flirtatious tone. He rests one of his hands over yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, his gaze half focused on you.
"Alright," you say with a soft sigh. "I was thinking - you've been busy today, very busy, so I might dress myself up in all your favourite things and take care of you later."
"Take care of me how?" Javier lightly chuckles, as if you're somehow incapable of being in charge.
"I'll take the reins, you know? Maybe I'll sit on your lap at the campfire later, grinding against you whenever people aren't looking, and eventually drag you into our tent."
"That doesn't sound like you're taking care of me," Javier sarcastically comments, but his face begins to turn red when you continue telling him your evening plans.
"I'll be wearing your favourite lingerie for a reason, Javi'. I know how much you enjoy seeing me in it, especially when I'm busy between your legs, wrapping my lips around your cock."
Javier continues to blush, forcing himself to look away from you in an attempt to hide his face. "I know what you're doing-"
"-and then I'll continue taking care of you, letting you relax as I ride you. You deserve to be taken care of, especially when you've had such a busy day," you continue, cutting his words short.
"Alright," Javier sighs, licking his lips anxiously as he peers around, checking that nobody is within earshot. "You win. I understand now how... frustrating this is."
"Do you?" you question. "I don't think you quite get it yet, love."
You remove your arms from Javier's waist, and plant a kiss to the back of his neck before turning heel and walking away. Javier calls out after you, asking where you're running off to. "I'm going to carry on doing my chores," you innocently reply, sending him a small smile and merrily going on your way.
Javier lets out a defeated groan, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, wincing as he feels the hard fabric of his pants brush over his erection. He removes his poncho from his shoulder, letting it fall over his body in an attempt to cover his obvious tent. Another gulp and he's finished his coffee, discarding it in the washing up pile as he walks past Pearson's wagon, trailing into the forest to get a head start on tonight's antics.
Could you please write something about "Charles Smith being tender and possessive of his wife", I love your writing ✨🖤
thank you<3 here’s a drabble for you
"Don't you dare touch her," Charles spits, standing tall as he marches over. He only popped out to use the outhouse, trusting that you'll behave, keeping yourself occupied whilst leaning against the bar. However, a stranger assumed you were another working woman, just like the other women in the Saloon, and it doesn't help that you're dolled up tonight, celebrating yet another year of marriage with your husband.
Charles can be intimidating when he needs to be, even in his embroidered shirt and smart pants, his iron still hanging from his hip, as it's unfortunately unsafe to leave without one. You were gushing about how beautiful he looks the second he slipped his clothes on, and you continued babbling away as you helped braid his hair, followed by him lacing your corset whilst he placed soft kisses behind your ear, whispering "I know you think I'm beautiful, but just you wait until you see how you look."
And even now, with his chest puffed out, his fists clenched tightly, and that protective look in his eye, he still looks beautiful. Charles slips his hand around your waist after swatting away the strangers hand that was reaching out to grasp you. The stranger opens his mouth, and from the furious red blush on his cheeks, you can only assume that he was about to insult you both. However, Charles cuts him off. "I don't want to hear it, you leave us be."
The stranger rolls his eyes, but quits his efforts, trailing off to find somebody else to pester.
Charles turns his attention to you, his stance instantly relaxing as his gaze meets yours. The grip around your waist playfully tightens, and despite the thick layers of your clothing, you can still feel Charles's thumb stroking over your back, a comforting motion that he often does without realizing. "Are you alright? Did he do anything?" Charles questions. As he speaks, he places his other hand on your chin, tilting your head up tenderly and watching your eyes, checking for signs of discomfort.
"He didn't do anything, you got here just in time," you smile, and Charles sends a smile twice as soft back at you.
"Good," he sighs as he pulls you against his chest, urging you to rest your head on his shoulder. "It seems I can't leave you alone for two seconds without you causing trouble," Charles jokes, biting at his tongue to prevent himself from chuckling.
"Well, it's a good thing I've got you to save me from it," you reply. Charles places a kiss on your forehead before pressing his cheek against your head, his fingertips fiddling with the fabric of your dress, subtly kneading at you.
"Yeah," Charles sighs. "You've always got me."
my husband (charles smith) + “let me take care of you” (sick or nsfw ;) )
OBVIOUSLY I'm going to go with the NSFW option. I know you mentioned a female reader, but this came out gender neutral instead :^)
---
"What's a matter?" Charles questions for the tenth time tonight. You can be quite the fidgeter, but tonight has been worse than usual, all thanks to the heated sensation between your thighs. It doesn't help that Charles has been feeding it, caressing your thighs as you sit on his lap, attempting to distract you from the campfire stories by discreetly kissing along your neck.
"Nothing," you quietly reply.
Charles lets out a defeated sigh, beaten yet again by your stubbornness. "Come on, something's up. Tell me."
You briefly pause, shuffling higher up on his lap, speaking directly in his ear in an attempt to be seductive and secretive. "You know what's up, Charles."
"Oh?" Charles replies with a quirked brow and a smug expression. He kneads your thigh yet again, dangerously close to your crotch, and kisses that soft spot behind your ear before whispering "let's go to bed then."
"Now?" you almost stutter your response. Charles is playing a risky game, attempting to seduce you whilst being this close to the other camp members. Hopefully they haven't heard, but even if they have, it's none of their business.
"Yes, now," Charles orders. "Let me take care of you..."
“You are crushing me right now.” fluff with flaco and a gn reader for the prompt list thing? <3
ahhh i haven't written anything for my husband in a while!!!<3
Ugh, what the-
You're jolted awake from the sudden weight on top of you. With your arms flailing about, and your body wriggling like crazy, you manage to shimmy out of the trap, sitting upright in bed to question what (or who) has squished you.
Flaco's sound asleep, snoring softly, with his arms outstretched, taking up all the bed. He had rolled over, attempting to snuggle up to you, only to crush you beneath his body, incredibly desperate for any kind of physical contact from you.
"Flaco," you grumble, prodding him awake. He groans, licking his dry lips before speaking up in a dry, raspy voice, his eyes remaining shut.
"Mhm?" Flaco responds.
"Move across, you're taking up all the bed," you state, lightly pushing his side to encourage him to roll over.
"O-okay, okay," Flaco says with a nod, following it up with a soft "sorry."
He shuffles across the bed, returning to his side, and with his arm stretched out, you cuddle up to him again. Your eyes soon fall shut, your breaths are steady, and you're about to fall asleep, until Flaco rolls over, and in an attempt to spoon you, he squishes you again.
"Flaco!" you cry out, wriggling from his grasp. "You are crushing me right now!!"
"Eh?" Flaco questions as he moves away, propping himself up on his elbow. After rubbing his eyes with his other hand, he stares down at you. It's impossible to be mad at him, it was an accident, plus he looks absolutely adorable like this; messy bed hair, half-shut eyes, shirtless, and now reaching out to affectionately rub over your arm. "Sorry, amor."
"It's alright," you sigh. "But can you roll over? I want to be the big spoon, so you don't roll crush me again."
"Yeah, okay then," Flaco replies, his words falling quiet from being half asleep.
He lies back down and faces away from you, reaching behind his back to find your hand and wrap it around your waist. What a needy man; sure, he's a killer, a gunslinger, a man with both a name and price on his head, but behind closed doors, Flaco is the biggest puppy you've ever met, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
You snuggle up to him, smiling sweetly at the outrageous size difference. After placing a gentle kiss on Flaco's shoulder, his ponytail brushing against your cheek, you shut your eyes and drift back off to sleep.
Maybe Flaco will wake up later with you crushing him instead.
For when requests are back open- first kiss w Micah?
HEY. sorry this request took so long!! I couldn’t think of the perfect situation, and then @oatcakebabie suggested this, so kudos to her for this game >:3
Reader is gender neutral!!!
This is such a childish game to be playing, so silly, not the game you'd expect a bunch of fully grown, bloodthirsty, fearless outlaws to be partaking in. But here you are, watching as Sean spins the bottle yet again, eager as always, and pulls a face of disgust as it lands on a gang member who isn't exactly partaking.
"I ain't kissing Cain!" Sean grunts, and reaches out to spin the bottle again.
"Ah, you gotta!" Mary-Beth jumps in, snatching the bottle away before Sean can reach it.
"What? why? he's a dog, and dogs can't play this game!"
"Where does it say that, huh?" Karen butts in, chuckling at the sight of Sean attempting to climb out of the hole he's dug.
"I ain't got a rule book on me-"
"-so you can't prove that dogs can't play?" Mary-Beth butts in, giggling along with Karen.
Sean doesn't reply, he huffs and puffs, turning to face Cain with a frown on his face. "C'mon then, you mutt," Sean sighs as he leans in. He scrunches his face up, shutting his eyes, and before he can even pucker his lips to give Cain a kiss, Cain has already begun licking his face, wagging his tail as he jumps into Sean's lap.
There's laughter around the campfire, yourself and the others watching through teary eyes as Sean manages to push Cain off him, urging for Cain to calm himself down. Within time, Cain does, but snuggles down on Sean's lap, making sure the camp knows that he's now got eyes for Sean.
"Lovely, just lovely!" Sean comments as he wipes his face with his sleeve, wiping off all the slobber he can. Sean doesn't bother sorting out the mess that he's now in, his clothes more creased than ever, and his hair is a scruffy mess, instead reaching out to take the bottle and push it in your direction.
"Go on then, your go," Sean urges, resting his hands atop of Cain. He gives him a small fuss, muttering under his breath about what a pain Cain can be.
"Oh, alright," you sigh. The game hasn't been too unfair on you so far; you were tasked to kiss Javier, who happily accepted, and Charles, who isn't playing but allowed you to place a kiss on his cheek. At least you haven't had to kiss any dogs, or Uncle, who keeps attempting to butt-in in an attempt of getting some affection. Poor man!
You place the bottle on its side in the centre of everybody, and give it a spin, watching nervously as it eventually lands on someone... There's a small gap between two of your fellow camp members, pointing at somebody who insisted that he definitely isn't playing.
For whatever reason, Sean had asked if Micah wanted to play, seeing as he's sitting nearby, to which Micah replied "I ain't a child." Sean had pushed and said that he's only rejecting because he knows nobody will kiss him, and Micah grumbled "if that's what helps you sleep at night," before moving a few seats away. He's sat in one of the tents, whittling a piece of wood into a spike (maybe to stab Sean with?) and probably eavesdropping into your group conversation, even though you're all talking rather loud.
There's a mixture of disapproving sighs as everybody looks over at Micah, who perks his head up, sensing all the eyes on him. "Oh, you might as well spin again, Micah isn't joining in," Karen comments.
"Wait, no, no!" Sean butts in, attempting to press all of Micah's buttons, "if Micah's going to sit here then he has to play, that's the rules!"
Micah raises a brow at his comment, "now, if I remember rightly, Charles also isn't playing, but he's still sat amongst y'all."
"Correction, Charles is... half-playing, he appreciates a good cheek kiss here 'n' there!" Sean corrects him, and Micah grumbles at his sassy reply.
"I ain't movin'."
"Then you're playin'."
Micah lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, shuffling up from his elbows to sit upright, one leg stretched out and the other folded. He sighs once more, and then decides to ask an important question. "Who's meant to be kissin' me?"
"Uh, me," you sheepishly reply. Micah isn't somebody that you interact with on the regular, passing comments here and there, but you've never had a proper conversation with your fellow camp member; of course, you've heard (and seen) all the red flags surrounding him, but that doesn't mean that you can't... find him attractive, right?
You'd never dare to tell anybody about your minor, secret admiration for the blonde man, nor that you've thought about him in a few ways before. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the way Micah looks at you, quietly replying "alright, if that's what you want," with a shrug.
"Y-you're alright with it?" you question, wanting to make sure you heard his reply correctly.
"That's what I just said, ain't it?" Micah rolls his eyes. Ugh, the sass, the audacity, but you only have yourself to fault for being into it - for being into him.
"Now, you ain't gotta if you don't wanna. This is Micah, we're talkin' about, eh?" Sean butts in with a laugh. You notice how everybody else nods along with his comment, and you can't help but feel sorry for Micah. Having all these people cower away from him must make him feel undesirable, and if you're to stoop to their level, then you'd be just as bad.
But God, you want this, so much so that you're shuffling over to Micah, settling beside him. His eyes are wide, but he quickly relaxes them, flashing you a cheeky grin in an attempt to cover up how surprised he is that you're actually going through with this.
Micah's enough of a gentleman to remove his hat, resting it on his lap, and then tilts his head and waits patiently, allowing you to take the lead. You nervously lick your lips before going for it, pressing your lips to his, your eyes scrunched shut. You're certain that you look uncomfortable, despite not meaning to be, it's the nerves!
Within seconds, you relax, untensing and moving your lips. To your surprise, Micah matches you, kissing you softly, his slightly chapped lips gliding over yours, his facial hair tickling your upper lip and cheeks. There's a burn in your stomach, and you're thankful that you're sat down, as your knees feel so weak that they definitely would have bucked beneath you.
This is just meant to be a kiss, a peck on the lips, maybe a few seconds longer. But Micah's now deepening the kiss, moving a hand up to cup your jawline as he nibbles on your bottom lip.Oh lord. You bite him back, earning a deep and drawn out chuckle, his lips pressed right against yours as he laughs. "Calm down," Micah mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear, "this is just meant to be a kiss," he says, and pecks you on the lips before moving away.
Micah returns to sitting back on his elbows as he places his hat back on, cockily brushing you off as if nothing happened, but you can tell from his rosy cheeks and blown pupils that he enjoyed that as much as you did. You let out a deep sigh as you shuffle back over to the others, not saying anything, unable to look at the variety of wide eyes and open mouths gawking at you.
"Right, that was weird," Sean finally speaks up, attempting to sweep some tension out of the air.
"I think it's time we all went to bed," Mary-Beth suggests, and everybody agrees, rushing to their feet and dispersing, leaving you starstruck at the campfire with Micah barely a few feet behind you.
There's silence for a few minutes, and you zone out, staring at the campfire until you hear a rustling behind you, followed by a hand gently pressed on your back, and a set of damp lips whispering huskily into your ear.
"You come and find me if you ever wanna play that game again, just me and you though, alright?" Micah suggests, chuckling as you eagerly nod in agreement.
He stands, wandering off from the campfire, heading out to the outskirts of camp - one of his favourite places to enjoy his own company in.
The offer is there, and Micah definitely won't mind if you decide to take it up right now.
for the character + word how about flaco hug!! i really want that man to bear hug me
this is sad cause i’ve been feeling meh recently :^( gender-neutral reader<3
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"Hey, look at me," Flaco softly commands after handing over your payment. The brim of your hat is lower than usual today, covering your eyes, only for the brief moments that you've interacted with the man.
It's not something that you want to do, but you know by now that Flaco has a heart of gold, and the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt or upset you. So, you tilt your hat back to where it usually sits, and make direct eye contact with him. The puffiness to your eyes is obvious, and from the permanent pout that you've worn all day, Flaco knows this isn't simply from rubbing your eyes. No, you've shed a few tears over the last couple of days. Well, more than a few; enough to the point where your expression is taking a while to return to normal.
Flaco lets out a soft sigh as he gently places his fingertips beneath your chin, keeping your head up for him to examine the damage. "You wanna talk about it?" he offers.
"Nah," you decline, forcing yourself to look away from the guilt of rejection. Sometimes you can't quite find the right words to express how you feel, and this is one of those times.
"Okay," Flaco accepts. "How about you come here instead?" Flaco offers as he moves his hand from your chin, stretching his arms out instead. The sight alone makes your heart melt; a man who easily reaches 6'4, with a permanent scowl, and a gruff voice that alone scares the wolves away, is offering you a hug in an attempt to make you feel better.
You don't bother nodding or verbally replying, instead, you press yourself against his chest, your fingertips barely touching as you wrap your arms around him. Flaco softly laughs as he engulfs you, wrapping you up in his warm, furry coat, his cheek resting on top of your head. He holds you for however long you need, not letting go first, allowing you to take all the love, comfort, and warmth that you need from him.
And when you do finally break apart, Flaco asks you to stay. "You need a friend right now, I can see that clear as day," Flaco states, and smiles like a puppy when you accept.
---
Bill's a stuttering mess, as always, struggling to keep eye contact as he attempts to talk to you. "I got you something," he manages to blurt out, his cheeks turning salmon red. You knew he had something for you the second he began approaching, his hands behind his back, and a nervous expression across his face.
"Oh?" you curiously sigh. "What is it?"
"I... uh.... here-" Bill exclaims, and almost shoves the bouquet of flowers into your arms.
You take the bouquet, fawning over the array of colours, shapes, sizes, and so on. There's a mishmash of plants, wrapped together in a ribbon, and to your surprise, the bouquet is neatly presented - not that you have any doubts in Bill.
You let out a sigh. "Thank you, Bill."
Bill pauses before searching for reassurance. "You like them?" he nervously asks.
"Of course, I do," you smile, and take a small step forward to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Bill's face continues turning redder as every second passes, and he stutters an excuse before scurrying away, leaving you to take the bouquet over to your tent and place them in a vase.
Should you tell him that some of them are weeds?
