#Granny Boone x Reader Drabble

[slashingdisneypasta]

MultiVillains x Reader || Drabbles

Plots / Includes: Just some very short, very self indulgent, very fluffy drabbles of them taking care of you while you’re sick because I am dying (: (: (:

Human!Chucky Lee Ray: The bastard climbs through your window (Even though you have told him a million times that he is WELCOME to USE the FRONT DOOR.) not looking for much more than a hook up… and finds you curled up in bed; ‘Dying’, as you tell him.

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone: You’ve been totally overworking yourself at the pub recently and today you wake up sick as a dog- and well, there’s no damn way that your partners are going to let you leave the house until you’re 100% better. *This is set in the world of This Oneshot, where they’re in love with you but you’re uncomfortable with the whole thing… but also subconsciously like them a lot too.

Wheezy Weasel: Turns out your boyfriend, who is not the picture of health himself, is actually quite good at taking care of people when they’re sick. You now know how the rest of the Toon Patrol have survived to adulthood. (Sidenote: Especially Smartass. That man does not stop to rest.)

Warnings: Boone and Buckman lightly kidnap you but only out of love, and Wheezy undresses you but its really not sexual at all. Its all fluff ^^

Tag list: @marinerainbow , @miss-understood and @astridflo

Human!Chucky Lee Ray:

“Easy does it, easy does it… agh!- “

The sound of Chucky toppling through your bedroom window rouses you from your heavy dozing session, and when all the pain comes back to your head and your nose starts dripping once again you let out your own groan; Throwing the blankets over your head to hide from the world. “Chuckyyyy!”

“Fuck, I always forget how high up this damn window is. You should put a step stool here for me, one of these days I’m gonna break my face.” He grumbles, making a cacophony of creaky and flappy sounds as he gets up and brushes himself off. 

“Get outtt,” You groan again, squeezing your eyes shut. His loud voice is grating on your very sensitive earbuds right now. Feeling the bed dip beside your hips, you assume Chucky has sat down and when a hand lands on your waist, you sigh. “… I’m sick, Chucky… “It would be nice if he would comfort you, but you kinda doubt it.

“Ohh… Yeah, that explains the clinical atmosphere in here. You at deaths fucken door, or something?”

Sniffling, you roll over under his hand to face him and nod under the covers. “Yes.”

“You are not, shut up.” Despite his annoyingly harsh words, Chucky slides down to lay on the mattress next to you, above the covers though. “Well, guess I’m not getting any… go back to sleep, then. Just stay under those blankets, I don’t need to be catching whatever disease you caught.”

Peaking just your eyes out from under the blanket and your noise is as nasally as it gets- it makes him snigger but you ignore it. “You’re staying?”

He smirks, yanking the blankets back up over the rest of your head. “It’d be kinda of rude of me, to turn up here to fuck you but just leave cuz I can’t… wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I’m staying here.”

“… Thank you.” You know Chucky’s not great with his emotions, he’s always either too hot or too cold but this is an uncharacteristically soft moment for him- you’re going to enjoy it while it lasts.

It jostles you when he moves to get comfortable, stealing a pillow that was half under your head and folding it under his own, sleep entering him voice as he settles down. “Mhm.” Okay. Comforted by the fact he’s going to stay, you let your heavy eyelids fall shut again and snuggle closer to his warm body. “… mm, sleep tight… “

Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone:

At first when you wake up and force your body up into a sitting position, you have no clue where you are. You’re squinting around at the unfamiliar bedroom you’re in all alone, feeling a confused sense of dread flood your blood stream- the kind where you don’t move a muscle, just your eyes as you gaze about the room and try to figure out the puzzle.

… Until you’re suddenly thrown into the worst coughing fit of your life- just really terrible. It make syour eyes water and mucus build up in your throat. When it’s over, thankfully, you give a big, terrible sniffle and groan long and hard into your hands. Whatttttttttttttt? No… I can’t be sick… Noooooo… You have a business to be running! Where the fuck are you and where did this virus come from? None of this will at all do-

“You’re awake, then! ~ “The door immediately across from you opens up then, and you’re not even surprised at who comes in- exasperated, yes. Nauseous at the sight of syrup drenched pancakes in her hands, yes.

But not surprised.

“Boone… “You start, and find that you’re voice is as course as it gets, and promptly lose your mouth because- ow.

“I think you should go back to sleep for a while, but I got you some breakfast here to pick at first! You need your strength, sweetheart~ “

I’m not your sweetheart, you think, giving her a deadpanned glare as she comes forward with the stack of sugar dressed up as Breakfast. Usually pancakes would make you happy, but right now with how you’re feeling and your sore throat? Hell no. Just smelling them make you feel like being sick. “… that’s okay.” You force out, despite the pain. “I’m fine. I’m just going to go to wor- “

“Your throat must be killing you,” Boone laments, ignoring you entirely as she sinks down on the bed beside you. “Georges coming with some lemon and honey tea, that’ll fix it right up!”

… that actually does sound pretty helpful. “Thank you, but- “

“Don’t talk honey, we’ve got you.” Boone cuts you off again. Yes, that would be the problem, you sigh in resignation, but go totally stiff when the woman reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear; A deeply concerned look on her face. “Where is that old bastard with the tea?” She seems to mutter to herself, then, and you’re rolling your eyes when he appears.

The mayor takes a seat on the opposite of your legs that Boone is on and wraps your hands around the mug in your lap, wrapped in a tea towel so it doesn’t hurt to hold. “Goodmorning darlin!~ Gotcha some tea, here- careful, its hot.”

Yep- not your darling. But thanks, I didn’t realise that tea was hot. Nodding gratefully nonetheless of your sarcastic inner thoughts, you cup the mug carefully in your lap and your body actually relaxes to the smell- embarrassingly enough. You can feel the stuffiness in your head clearing as the steam wafts up to your face.

Boone’s feeling your forehead, which must feel like a kettle, and frowning. “Make sure you force some food down, too, an empty stomach’ll just make it all worse.”

Taking a glance at the pancake sin her lap, you press your lips together in a straight line quickly and look away. “… How did I get here? Y’all didn’t kidnap me, did you?”

It was a joke, apparently a poor one though because Buckman almost looks guilty when he goes to answer. “Well… not per say… I don’t think… “

What!? “Not per say??”

“Well, you fainted at the pub and we- well, we made an executive decision to just… take you home after that.” Honestly, it’s a mystery to you sometimes that he is the smooth talker in this damn town. You open your mouth to say something about his lack of tact, when the full meaning of his words set in.

“- I fainted??!”

“You’ve been workin’ real hard lately, sweetheart,” Boone explains, producing a damp cloth from a bowl on the side table and pressing it gently to your head. At the same time, her husband pats your hand, and- And it feels good, damnit! You wish you would have the strength right then to fly out of there like a bat from hell, but you just… don’t. Too tired, too sick… too weak. “It was likely to catch up to ya eventually- you really shouldn’t push yourself so hard... ”

“I’m fine- “  

“Oh, so you don’t mind collapsin’ on the floor in front of the whole darn town every now and then?” Buckman cuts in, raising his brows at you- to which you roll your eyes at and turn away from him. Well, no, you don’t enjoy that. “In that case, maybe we should just install some mats- “Turning to Boone, he continues the lark and if looks could kill then your mayor would be dead and buried by now. “What do you think, dear, bear skin or cotton?”

“I’d say both, considering the big ol’ egg forming on their forehead here.” Oh, so it will be twin graves.

“So right.”

“… “Cheeks warm from more than just your fever, you glare at them both hard for a good moment, before being angry at all becomes too exhausting a thought and you just give a deeply frustrated sigh; Lifting the mug to your face and avoiding eye contact with either of them.

Hopefully you get better real quick.

Wheezy Weasel:

As soon as you admitted that you were sick, Wheezy had you up on your feet and was marching you off to the bathroom. “C’mon… “He mumbles in that lazy drawl of his, closing the door behind you both. You stand there with your arms crossed, just struggling to stand as you watch him reach into the shower and turn the taps on. He feels until the water is a good, hot temperature and steam billows out of the cubical before stepping back and gesturing with his thumb to the stream. “Test that,”

While you reach in delicately and check it yourself, nodding when you get used to it quickly, Wheezy kneels down and starts unlacing your shoes. You drop your arm back down to your side, the limb too heavy to hold up for long, and give your boyfriend a little peculiar smile. “Wheezy… “

“Just relax Y/N, I aint gonna try anything.”

“I believe you… “You’ve been together for nearly half your lives now, seeing eachother naked is not a big deal. I mean, you like it of course, but it doesn’t have to be about- its not always- there’s not always a sexual undertone. You feel comfortable with him, is what you mean.

“Okay, step outta those.”

As you follow his instructions, slipping your feet easily out of the sneakers that he loosened up for you, he gets up again and unbuttons your shirt. “I can take care of myself, you know?”

He gives a huff and rolls his eyes. “As a matter a fact, no, I don’t know that. You tried to go t’ work today. So that means, I’m in charge now.” You can’t help the little, tired grin on your face as you let him help you out of your shirt, even holding your arms up for him when he guides them up into the air so that he can lift your undershirt carefully over your head. “So deal with it.”

“Yes sir.” You tease, getting a rough chuckle from the smoker as he moves onto your pants. Getting more and more tired the more you stand, you take advantage of his presence in front of you and wrap your arms over his shoulders to help hold you up; Letting your head fall forward and your eyelids fall shut while he focuses on unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping your bottoms.

Once he shoves your pants and underwear down, you step out of them and he chucks your discarded outfit onto the bench before guiding you towards the shower. “Alright, lock the door when I leave. Don’t need Greasy or Psycho waltzing in here while yer relaxin’.”

“Hmm,” You hum, eyes still closed. When he gives you a kiss on the forehead, though, you open them up slowly and look up at him only slightly adoringly… okay super adoringly, because he’s perfect and oddly kind and you know you’re so lucky to have him. “Okie.”

With his hand still cupping half your face, Wheezy gives you a half stern look. “Stay in there until you feel your sinuses loosen up, okay?”

“Yep~ “

“I’ll bring ya pyjama’s in a couple minutes and leave ‘em on the floor outside. Then go straight t’ bed, and I’ll bring ya some soup.”

“Yes sir… “

“Hm,” He huffs again, a lazy smirk spreading across his face for a moment before he gives you another forehead kiss, pats your back, and leave you to it.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Wait, you headcannon that Granny Boone is bisexual, right (i remember seeing something about that on your blog somewhere)? If she and Buckman are married, does he know? I mean, with his opinion towards Lester being gay, I doubt it. But she and Buck seem in love too. I wonder how they make it work.

On a plus side, at least Lester has Granny to back him up in his identity ^^

Oh you're probably remembering this one!

And also the fact that generally in my Poly!B&B works, reader is usually a female XD

Yeah, I can see her as Bi! Buckman probably considers it one of Boone's 'crazy things'- everyone knows she's nutty, even more so then he is. So this is just one of those weird things; you know, not really her... just a freaky fad. (Yeah 😒)

Besides, honestly, if it means he doesn't need to complete the sex himself, he's probably partly relieved 😅

I have lots of thoughts on this relationship; Thank you for asking about it! XD

[slashingdisneypasta]

Masterlist: Mayor Buckman

🔞 = Smut || 🔂 = Poly || * = Requested

---<- 🥀🥀🥀 ->---

Blurbs: How Self Conscious are they in Order of Most to Least.

Blurbs: Most Delusional Yandere's to Least.

Blurbs: Most Possessive to Least.

Blurbs: Period Sex 🔞.

Blurbs: Shovel Talk.

Blurbs: S/O thinks they Smile 'Too Much'.

Blurbs: Unsolicited Dick Pick.

Drabble: Horror Villain Apocalypse.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Fem!Alive!Reader- Sleepy Meetings.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Fem!Bartender!Reader- Here for you.

Drabble: Mayor Buckman x Modern!Reader- Let me leave.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Addicted.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Inspired by the song According To You by Orianthi.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Sick You.

Drabble Set: Platonic!Horror Villains x Reader- Bonding.

Drabble Set: Platonic!Horror Villains x Reader- Bonding Part 2.

Headcanons: Awkward Moments.

Headcanons: Dating Horror Villains things Dump.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- Six; The Musical AU.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- Types of Kisses.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x SunshineIncarnate!Reader.

Headcanons: Horror Villains x Reader- You Almost Choosing Another.

Headcanons: Supernatural Villains Soulmate Marks.

Horror Villains and: What they would Put in the (7MinsInHeaven) Hat.

Imagine: Being too Late to Save Them.

Oneshot: Granny Boone and Mayor Buckman x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader- Throuple.

Oneshot: Hewitts / Pleasant Valley x Reader- The Multiverse Theory and the Horror Fandom.

Oneshot: Mayor Buckman x Reader- Hell.

Oneshot: Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!Undercover!Singer!Reader- Haunted.

Oneshot: Yandere!Mayor Buckman x HarpersFiance!Reader- Preachers Daughter.

Slashers / Horror Villains As: Animated (Children's) Movie Villain Songs.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Love Potion.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Finding out you're a Virgin 🔞.

Reactions: Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader- Them Getting Confused for your Grandparent.

Would They or Wouldn't They?: Abandon You After Their Own Orgasm 🔞.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Masterlist: Granny Boone

🔞 = Smut || 🔂 = Poly || * = Requested

---<- 🥀🥀🥀 ->---

Blurbs: Period Sex 🔞.

Blurbs: Shovel Talk.

Blurbs: Unsolicited Dick Pick.

Drabble: Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbien!Reader- You and her Beard.

Drabble: Horror Villain Apocalypse.

Drabble Set: MultiVillains x Reader- Sick You.

Headcanons: Awkward Moments.

Headcanons: Dating Horror Villains Things Dump #2.

Headcanons: Supernatural Villains Soulmate Marks.

Horror Villains and: What they would Put in the (7MinsInHeaven) Hat.

Imagine: Being too Late to Save Them.

Oneshot: Granny Boone and Mayor Buckman x Fem!PleasantValleyResident!Reader- Throuple.

Oneshot: Hewitts / Pleasant Valley x Reader- The Multiverse Theory and the Horror Fandom.

Oneshot: Poly!Mayor Buckman and Granny Boone x Fem!Undercover!Singer!Reader- Haunted.

Reactions: Horror Villains x Reader- Finding out you're a Virgin 🔞.

Reactions: Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader- Them Getting Confused for your Grandparent.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader || Drabble

Plot: I’ve been thinking about this for a while, so here it is. Just some petty bickering between you and your lover’s beard. This is what happens when a gay woman’s bisexual lover marries a straight man. There is also, of course, feelings.

Warnings: Eh, bickering. Boone does not mind seeing you and Buckman fight at all- in fact, she watches it happen. So, she’s mildly abusive.

I was fine with the men Who would come into her life now and again I was fine, 'cause I knew That they didn't really matter until you I was fine when you came And we fought like it was all some silly game Over her, who she'd choose

(Lyrics from ‘It’s Over, Isn’t It?’ From Steven Universe)

~~~

Knock knock knock!

“Aghhhh… “The primal, frustrated groan escapes you before you can restrain yourself. You both pull back at the same time, whether because you really both felt you needed to or because you knew she would and refused to endure that embarrassment of seeing her run off to him again you would never admit. You close your eyes, letting your hands fall from her soft hair to your lap, defeated for the time being. “At least he’s learnt howta’ knock… “

“That’s right.” Boone grins, eyebrows furrowing in a look caught between amusement and empathy, especially when I open my eyes and pout up at her. Her hands find your upper arms, near shoulders and holds your comfortingly. “There’s that. Wait right here, I’ll just see what he wants- it is his home.”

You take such a deep breath that your shoulders raise, and then fall dramatically as you sigh it out. “Okay… “With one final comforting squeeze to your shoulder, Boone gets up and rounds the corner from the living room to the front door. You amuse yourself with picking up your tea and dragging it to your lips as you hear the door open and quiet voices.

Like a secret. Like an inside conversation between them.

Her, and him.

Rolling your eyes and your shoulders simultaneously, trying to shake off the jealousy, you try to enjoy the feeling of steam on your face and the smell of the tea. It is nice. You brought it over from the town to the west when you went to visit and attend a ball.  Its jasmine and apricot and, honestly, you bought it for the packaging on its own. A beautiful deep purple and marmalade coloured box with intricate gold designs around the label. You had felt a bit magical just buying it, actually.

As you take a sip, the conversation at the door stops and instead footfalls replace the noise- footfalls that are definitely not your lover’s. Too heavy.

You hurriedly put down the cup and the saucer back on the table because you don’t trust your suddenly icy fingers not to shake too hard and spill the drink just in time for George to stick his head around the corner and greet you. For some reason, despite him being the second, the intruder in this relationship, the whole thing between you and Boone still feels clandestine. He knows all about it, he knows his role as her ‘beard’- yet you still feel like the outsider. The other lover.

It’s not a nice feeling.

“Afternoon, Y/N. Sorry to interrupt your lil girl’s night, hope ya’ll are havin’ fun! - I just forgot my hanky. I won’t be a moment.” Oh my God, he’s so patronising. ‘Girls night’?! It’s a date, you son of a bitch! He flashes a fake smile; A politician’s smile, before popping off up the stairs to search for it.

And, hanky??? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous or translucent. You were headed to the bar for the night, sir. You couldn’t have used a napkin for your sniffles!?

You raise the tea back to your lips, throwing your head with elegance instead of pushing back the hair. “Of course, sir… “

“I just new you would understand!” He calls back, ruffling through some draws in the room above you. Boone, looking apologetic - but, still. Half amused. Half happy. Because he’s here, - sinks back down into the couch beside you, knees touching yours. That does calm you a bit- those small bits of affection always do. The small things always still feel rebellious, even now.

“Hm, really.” You ask sarcastically, raising your eyebrows at Boone but responding to her George. She grins and shakes her head, always liking it when you’re cheeky. Finishing another sip of your tea, you set it back down again as George comes back down the stairs, pocketing a particularly gaudy napkin with G.W.B stitched into it in thick lettering.

Then, to your horror, he looks between the door and the room you and Boone are sitting in and decides to come and seat himself down on the couch across from the two of you. Boone quickly, immediately puts a hand in both of yours, in your lap and you hold onto it like your life depends on it.

Or, like Georges life depends on it- which it very much might right now.

This man just loves to toe the line with me, doesn’t he… You think, glaring daggers at him. He’s so cheery, like he really doesn’t see much wrong with interrupting like this. Like he’s just being ‘cheeky’.

Oh noooo, no, no. He’s mistaken. He’s waging war.

“So, how have you been Y/N? Boones told me you went to a Ball in neighbouring Greenvill. How was that?”

Sarcastically, I quip back. “Oh, Greenvill was fine. Grapes are good this time of year- “Immediately I snap out of my restrained silence and lean forward, pointing a finger at him. “No, no, no. Don’t do this to me. We are not going to do this. No. Walk your britches out that door right this moment!” Boone squeezes your hand and pats it, watching your and her husbands now darkening glares at each other with a cruel entertainment.

“Oh, I’m just bein’ polite, dear. Do we have a problem?”

“Yes!” Absolutely!

“Well you can talk to your community representative about that! - Oh, wait.” He makes a show of putting his finger to his chin and looking as if he has just remembered something. “That’s me, isn’t it??”

“You know very well what this day is- mine. My day. What can I do to make you leave? Do you take bribes?”

“Now sweetheart, you and I both know there ain’t nothing you can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Oh, you are going to launch off this seat and dump the tea over his smug, patronising, misogynistic head. “Oh, well, what about threats, then??”

“If you can dish it out then I hope you can take it, too, Y/N.”

Seeing the line, the unspoken line that we never cross coming fast like a steam train, you pull back. Straightening your back and taking a deep breath through your nose, you calm down. He does the same, glancing up and muttering something to God, and Boone just looks from you looking silently at your knees and fuming, to her husband rubbing his hands together and looking down at the floor; And she smiles. An evil twinkle in her eye that neither you nor Buckman catch.

“Okay, Bucky, I’ll see you later? Y/N’s right, we were havin’ a date, and its not over yet.” Boone winks conspiratorially to him and you roll your shoulders back in discomfort- so does he. Her thumb rubs gently over your knuckles, and you let out all the breath you were holding in in an attempt to be quiet and calm. “That was my polite way of askin’ for you to leave, in case you didn’t catch it.” She jokes, with a hint of seriousness- because she really was hinting for him to leave. But she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

Its like the tenseness of the room doesn’t even touch her.

“… “Georges glance at either o you in turn is dark, tired, before he gets up and straightens his back again after leaning on his knees for too long. “Course. Have a good evening, you two. Uh, “You can tell he’s struggling to think of a polite goodbye as he slowly moves out of the room, and you make yourself watch for a moment. Out of respect. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like him. There’s too much love and hope for the same woman between us for us to ever have a non-confrontational conversation as things are they this way, but we’ve both been in this horrible situation that he’s enduring right now, too many times. When you have to leave her, Boone, to be with the other. Like you’re the outsider. And I can sympathise with him… sort of… for that. “The tea smells lovely.”

Then, he leaves- but not before flashing you a look, and you share a moment. One teensy tiny moment without hostility.

A sharing of the wish that neither of you had to do that walk.

Then the man’s gone and Boone lets go of my hand, bunching her fists in your skirts to get your attention back which you gladly give with an - at first, - empty smile. “Now, where were we? Ah, I think we were just… about… here.” Our lips connect, and I forget all about what I was just thinking about.

Here. Always here.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: (This is set right after the events of the last drabble, Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader except this is a completely different reader and we follow Buckman after he left that drabble) You multitask running a bar on a Friday night, fending off Hank (An OC I guess?) who’s self-proclaimed love for you can be a real hassle, and comforting the mayor on a bad night.

Warnings: Reader gets harassed, but its not a threatening kind of harassment. Hank’s just annoying and you can handle it.

~~~

“Hank, go home.”

“But love! - love, stop wiping down the tables. St- Stop it. I- I’m trying to profess my love to you baby!” The man falters, as you continue to finish wiping off a table and move on to the next empty one to take the empty glasses. “Come, come on… “

“No time, Hank.” You roll your eyes, getting back behind the bench, putting the glasses by the sink and, just as the man raises his finger as if asking to talk again you drop down to your knees to grab a new rag. “Very busy!”

“Honey, I love you!”

“So, so, busy!” For god’s sake, Hank! Get the hint!

“But! -“

“Excuse me Hank, thank you. Y/N, rum if you please?”

Hank looks unsure, stepping back and letting Mayor Buckman sit down in the stool he was blocking as you get up and flash the harasser a ‘Oh, what can I do???’ kind of smile and shrug combo. Hank looks at the mayor, looking almost defeated. He’s been up to this business all day, it’s about time he gives up! “Mayor!”

“Coming right up, Mr Mayor.” Quickly turning to get the bottle off the shelf and a clean glass, you ignore whatever Hank’s now doing for a moment. You’re sure he’s looking wounded again and mopey but that’s not really your problem, now is it? Finishing up pouring a nice big pint for the mayor, you turn around and see both men doing the exact same thing- the picture of vanquishment. Two sad sacks sitting side by side with their elbows on the bench. Hank, holding his pounding head and Buckman rubbing his eyes.  

It honestly makes you want to laugh a little bit; But, you’re a professional. And as bartender, you are also the town therapist.

“Your rum.” You set down the drink in front of Buckman and he quickly wraps his hands around it, dragging it towards him. Staying busy, you start washing the dirty glasses from before with no need to plan your next movements table-wise. You’ve been doing this for years, so you have a system. In a moment, you’ll hit tables 2, 4 and 6 to ask if the parties there need refills, then see off tables 7 and 5 who were just having dinner and then have nothing much to do since all the parties are going to need are refills from then on.

So plenty of drunk therapy time.

Drying the glasses, you turn around back to the bar to see Hank drop his face into the wooden bench and Buckman finish his drink and push the glass back, tapping the rim for more. Well, I know whats wrong with Hank… Sighing, you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Mr Mayor? Paperwork getting you down again?”

“No… “He rubs under his nose. “Just… ah… women troubles, I suppose… “Buckman rolls his eyes

Hanks sits up straight, pouts with a splinter in his nose and hits the bench. “Talk to me about it, brother.”

“Calm down there Hank.” You deadpan, before tapping your nose and looking meaningfully at him and returning to your mayor as Hank finds for the splinter and winces. Your furrow your eyebrows sympathetically to Buckman as you put down the glass you were drying and pour him more rum. “Sorry to hear that sir. Granny Boone and you are having trouble?”

“Nothing that we haven’t always had.”

… Oh.

OH. Oh.

You clear your throat, trying not to give anything away to Hank who’s listening. You know all about Boones lover; you should have known it was about her. The lady comes in here every now and then to drink and she let slip once about what’s going on between the 3 of them, and it was big news for you to hear - still is, actually, -, your jaw nearly hit the floor when she said it, but you moved on. Such is your creed as a barkeep; Besides, that was definitely not the craziest, and most certainly not the most horrible secret, that you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing about in this post.

“Uhm, you mean, the other woman?” Buckman’s eyes blow open and he opens his mouth to shut you up as Hank raises an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity. You wink and smirk when Hank is looking at Buckman instead of you, leaning on the bench and hoping he gets the hint. “Theodosia? Your perfect purebread? Gorgeous, silky black main?”

Hank makes an ‘Oh’ face and nods; That makes more sense, doesn’t it? A horse. Horses are always getting between wives and their husbands. And its not a surprise at all that, with a horse like Theodosia, Buckman would show favouritism. Right?

Hm. I’m so clever.

Feeling Hank calm down beside him, Buckman relaxes also and looks at your cautiously, cradling his glass again. “Yeah, Boone just doesn’t get a man’s relationship with his horse. There ain’t nothin’ I can say to explain it to her.”

You shrug, getting out a glass and holding it out to Hank, raising your eyebrows. He nods and smiles widely at you, so you pour him some rum as well and slide it over to him. “Well, I myself don’t understand your predicament truly- I mean, I’m not involved. But I am sorry for it.” What do you say in a situation like this? ‘Tough break, bro’? “Sucky, truly, ah…” Nope, that’s worse. “Sucky… “Don’t say it again! “Uhm, I mean… Tough… tough break, bro?”

Oh my god.

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, holding the bar. When you open your eyes to give Buckman a half smile so he knows its okay to laugh at you, you’re surprised to see he doesn’t look ready to make fun of you at all. He’s looking at you rather kindly, actually- maybe not like he feels much better about his situation because of your words, but maybe like the effort you made was cute.

Smiling, he pats your hand. “I appreciate the effort, Y/N.”

You grin brightly back. “No problem!”

Hank looks between the two of you a couple times, mouth setting in a firm frown and a look of displeasure deeply creases his forehead. Leaning forward, he sticks himself right close to Buckman so their arms touch and he’s definitely within the little bubble you the Mayor found yourselves in. Buckman doesn’t move. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yes Frank?”

“Hank!”

Oh right! Rats. Back to life. Wake up, Y/N! That breaks you out of the moment. You turn and smile apologetically at Hank, pouting and just all around looking completely mopey about the situation. “Oh! Sorry Hank, haha. Another drink, is it?”

Damn the mayor and his cuteness- Because that’s all that was. A moment of appreciation.

You blow air out of your cheeks as you turn for the rum again without an answer from Hank, widening your eyes at the same time. Better be, at least…

“Uh, yeah, sure darlin’! And, to remind you sweetheart! -Of our date! Tomorrow! I made us plans I did, at Granny Boone’s bed and breakfast! We’ll have brunch- all fancy like. OH! Sorry, Mr Mayor, should I not talk about her?” You roll your eyes, laughing just enough that air puffs out of your mouth and your shoulders jump once at Hank’s lack of subtlety. Turning around, you even catch the boy looking wide eyed, with high concerned eyebrows at Buckman, grabbing his arm. Buckman’s giving him a pinched smile, peeling his hand off of him and assuring him its absolutely fine.

At least, you think. He’s not on Buckman’s lap anymore.

Or pulled the mayor up onto his lap. You make a sudden sour face, pouring rum yet again, and shudder. Ugh, you’ve been there, unfortunately. Its not the most pleasant place to be. Or maybe that extra lump was just for me… God almighty Y/N, stop thinking about Hank’s lump, it’ll give you nightmares.

“Here you go, Hank.” Crossing your arms on the bench on leaning on them, you wink. “And don’t you worry; There’s no need to get all to get all bent outta shape over George- I’m just, appreciating the view.”

Hank’s mouth drops open and at your use of the mayor’s first name, jumping to conclusions that you knew he would, making you start to laugh. But you grin and have to look away to protect your face - your blush, -, at Buckman’s reaction to your words. Your, what could be, possibly, if you s q u i n t, flirt. His eyebrows have risen in surprise, but there is nothing innocent about how he’s smirking. “’George’?!-“

Immediately you sober up, cutting off the flirty attitude before you lose yourself, or say something you, and Buckman would regret. You take a deep breath, yank your rag off your shoulder with a finesse the practise of something unbelievably mundane over and over gets you and head towards tables 2, 4 and 6. “And we’re not going on any brunch tomorrow Hank, Jesus. Get it together.”