BOOTHILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ʚɞ You're my, my, my, my kind of woman ʚɞ
Pairings: Boothill x Reader
Summary: Being a baker and having a Galaxy Ranger as your lover is no easy work. Your lover waltzes into your bakery, scaring the customers who have already deemed him as a gang member or a dangerous man. Lan forbid a man wants to visit his sweet lover at work.
Tags: Fluff, established relationship, baker!Reader, they're cutie patooties
A/N: Nonnie i agree w wtv u said, ur words have moved me, so have this 💗 hope you enjoy!
The bell over the bakery door jingles softly, the scent of fresh bread and sugar filling the air. You’re behind the counter, humming a gentle tune as you frost a tray of cupcakes, sunlight streaming through the window and catching the flour dust in the air.
Then, like a shadow cutting through all that warmth, Boothill steps inside. Hat low, spurs jingling, revolvers gleaming at his hips, his long coat sweeping behind him—he looks every inch the outlaw people whisper about.
The few customers in line stiffen. A woman quickly gathers her child closer. Someone whispers, “Is that him?”
Boothill doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does and just doesn’t care. His eyes find you instantly, that sharp glint softening into something downright sweet.
“Howdy, sugar,” he drawls, voice smooth as honey but carrying that lazy, dangerous edge that makes strangers’ hairs stand on end. He tips his hat and strides over, boots heavy on the floorboards.
The room goes still at how brightly you smile at him. He leans over the counter, hands braced on either side of you, looming like some gunslinging storm—and then he presses the gentlest kiss to your cheek, careful not to smudge the flour dusting your face.
“Brought ya somethin’,” he murmurs, pulling a small bouquet of wildflowers from inside his coat.
You blink at him, soft laughter bubbling out. “You’re a menace, showing up like this and making all my customers nervous, but…” You take the flowers and press them to your chest. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
Behind him, someone coughs awkwardly. Boothill finally glances over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly at the gawking crowd. “What? Ain’t never seen a man bring his wife flowers before?”
Half the customers scatter like startled pigeons.
"Booth!” you scold, swatting at his arm, but he’s grinning now, sharp teeth flashing.
“Can’t help it, darlin’. Folks see a couple’a pistols an’ suddenly think I’m here to rob ya.” He shrugs off his coat, revealing a surprisingly clean shirt beneath, and rolls up his sleeves. “Truth is, I’m just here for one’a them sweet rolls you make.”
You sigh, amused, and gesture toward the display. “You could’ve just asked like a normal person.”
“Nah,” he says, snagging a pastry with a wink. “Ain’t no fun in that.”
You shake your head, but warmth curls in your chest as he leans against the counter, utterly relaxed now that he’s near you. The two of you settle into easy conversation, Boothill teasing you about the flour on your apron, you scolding him for tracking dust into your spotless shop.
From the outside, he’s all sharp edges and danger—a gunslinger with a reputation that makes strangers scatter. But here, with you, he’s soft. He eats pastries with powdered sugar on his lips, tucks wildflowers into your hair, and hums low and content as he watches you work.
A new customer peeks in nervously, then freezes at the sight of him. Boothill flashes them a wolfish grin, and they immediately mumble something about “coming back later.”
You throw him a flat look. “You’re scaring away my business, Booth.”
He chuckles, snagging your wrist to pull you close enough for a quick kiss. “Ain’t my fault they ain’t used to seein’ an angel like you married to a devil like me.”
You huff a laugh despite yourself, leaning against his chest for just a moment, feeling the steady thrum of machinery and heartbeat beneath. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” he says softly, brushing flour from your cheek. “Ridiculous ‘bout you, sugar.”
And with that, the bakery feels warm again, safe and soft—even with the most feared gunslinger in town stealing all your cinnamon rolls.
