#Forrest Bondurant x REader

[areyoureadytofumble]

just finished writing a 5k mlm dom/sub smut fic starring this giant teddy bear as sub of the year and ofc ao3 is down

pride has truly left us

[mlmxreader]

Fire | Forrest Bonduraunt x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Forrest Bondurant Hey 🖤!! May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for Forrest Bondurant X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: “What? He had it coming”  (Someone talking shit about our mans and reader is like, no you don't??)

summary: he had it coming, you're not to blame and Forrest knows that.

tws: violence, blood, swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Forrest was more than used to people talking about him, insulting him, causing him grief; he was used to it, and he always brushed it off if he knew that it wasn't worth the fight. Most of the time, it wasn't.

Most of the time, it was just someone getting too big for their boots, and that wasn't his fault; so he brushed it off. Usually with little more than a grunt or a growl, followed by him lighting up a cigar or having a shot. But then you came along, and suddenly Forrest had the challenge of keeping your temper in check when someone talked about him or insulted him.

He could be violent when he needed and wanted to be, but you?

You seemed to think that violence was a question, and that the answer you were looking for was yes. Word soon spread that people had to watch their words around Forrest, in case his partner overheard; more than anything, it was the knowledge that if they hurt you, there would be nothing to hold Forrest back.

One person shouting and putting someone in their place wasn't so much scary as much as it was a reminder that common sense still existed. But Forrest's partner?

Nobody would risk that unless they were stupid, refused to believe that Forrest was capable of great brutality, or both. Nobody would dare hurt you - not while Forrest was around. He was scary when he had to be, when he needed to be. When his hand was forced. Forrest's violence was unlike yours; you were uncontrollable and fierce - a red hot fire. Forrest was methodical and cold - a predator lurking in shadows.

You were fire, but Forrest? Forrest was an earthquake.

"I don't get it," the man you were dealing with scoffed, looking over at Forrest. "Why him? He's never gonna give you what you need."

You glared at him, clenching your jaw and balling your fists at your sides. "Because unlike you, Forrest makes me happy."

"How?" He scoffed. "It's not like he can provide you with stability. Or a decent place to live, or-"

You grabbed the back of his head, and smashed it against the table; with his head down, you grabbed a nearby glass, and hammered it against his skull, not caring where the shards went as you sighed heavily and shook your head.

No one was allowed to speak ill of Forrest. He should have known that, and as he sat there, weeping and crying out in agony, you grinned over at Forrest.

He knew immediately what that grin meant, and took his time to come over to you; with his hand on your shoulder, Forrest hummed, and dropped his gaze to your bloodied knuckles.

"What? He had it coming," you shrugged, but Forrest only dropped to his knees, and took your hands in his. "Forrest?"

He was carefully examining them, seeing if the blood belonged to you or to the most recent recipient of your temper; he pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket, gently mopping away the blood as he nodded slowly.

Satisfied that you were not injured. He dropped your hands, and sighed heavily.

"Is he dead?"

"No," you rolled your eyes. "He should be though, the shit he was saying about you."

Forrest cocked a brow, shaking his head. "You need to learn to control your temper."

"I can control it," you told him. "Just not when people talk shit about you."

A sharp growl came from the back of his throat; he was meant to be the one to protect you and to stand up for you. He was meant to be the strong one. Yet you were insistent on protecting him, standing up for him and never backing down. You were as strong as he was.

He liked that, even if he thought that your methods weren't exactly the best way to deal with things. At least you didn't kill him. Licking his lips, Forrest pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and hummed softly as he pulled you up from your chair, leading you away; he let you sit at the kitchen table while he prepared the coffee. He knew how you liked it.

He would have to have been an idiot not to notice that you never drank the full cup when anyone else made it. Even if you were friendly with his brothers, you never finished a cup of coffee made by them. You always left the last three or four swigs.

But when Forrest made it, you always emptied the mug. It made him smile when he was out alone; if he was out chopping wood or doing some other errand. When he was all by himself, he often thought about how you drank coffee.

He thought about how protective you were of him, and how you would always stand up for him, and he would smile then, too. Sure, he wasn't exactly keen on the bloodshed you left behind - but you were definitely a keeper. He knew that.

He put the mug down in front of you and smiled as he sat down beside you. "Hungry?"

You shook your head, taking a swig. "Not yet… I swear, every time you make coffee, it's better than the last time."

Forrest smiled as he nodded slowly. "Hurt?"

You shook your head again. "I don't think so. My hands feel okay… sticky from that cunt's blood, but… okay."

He nodded. "Good."

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. "If I worried you. I just… I don't… I can't stand it when people talk shit about you, and I won't have it."

"You always worry me," Forrest huffed quietly, although the smile on his face was more than evident. Endearment.

You smiled back, wanting to playfully shove him for such a comment but unable to find it in yourself as you brought your legs up to rest on his thighs; you sat back in your seat, sighing contently. "You worry me, too, y'know."

[angel-inked]

Coffee with Forrest ❤️

You can thank @hecatemoon87 for this!

I had to write a fluffy morning coffee moment with the middle brother!

Without further ado, enjoy...

You're eyes opened to a hazely lit room, what time was it? You didn't know and quite frankly didn't care! You had just worked one of the latest nights you've ever pulled at the station. Howard, as you recall, was drunk for most of it, at least he pours his own drinks! Jack took off with that preacher's daughter again, you had over heard Forrest telling his little brother not to get himself killed before he got home. You could just picture Forrest hard at work already, and here you are, fighting yourself to get out of bed.

Finally finding your way downstairs, "hey" Jack nodded as he greeted you. "Mornin'" Howard added. "How are you even awake?" You mumbled, eyeing Howard as he wiped down the bar. "You've got ol' Forrest to thank for that" he explained, pointing to the kitchen behind him. As if he'd ether heard his name or just knew he was being talked about, Forrest appeared from behind his big brother. He looked at you and nodded towards the door, walking out with a pair of coffee cups in hand.

"Don't keep him waitin'" Howard smirked with a wink. You rolled your eyes at the eldest brother, but made your way out to the porch nonetheless. One step out the door and you saw Forrest, another chair was sat up next to his and he motioned for you to sit. As you rounded the side of the chair, one of the coffee cups you saw Forrest carrie out earlier sat on the seat.

"So this is where this chair went" you smiled lightly, having noticed one of the tables was short a chair when you came downstairs. Forrest, as you expected, continued drinking his coffee in silence. Although this silence was slightly ajar from how he was usually silent, like he wanted to say something but didn't have the words to say what he wanted.

"You did well last night" he murmured, glancing over at you. "Thank you" you replied after a sip of your own drink. "You work hard, I like that" Forrest added. You smiled and nodded, not wanting to seem like you desperately wanted to ask why he was complementing you, Forrest doesn't compliment people so why was he praising you?

"You'd better not go workin' yourself to death over us" Forrest grumbled taking a sip of his coffee, his gaze lingered on you over the top of his cup. "You need the help" you stated simply, avoiding his eyes as they burned into you. "I'm serious, this place ain't worth workin' yourself sick over" Forrest reiterated, glancing back at the front wall of the station over his shoulder. "You are" you mumbled, "Excuse me?" Forrest questioned as if he hadn't heard you. You were sure he had and was more taken aback than anything, there's not a lot that can get past Forrest bondurant. "You and you're brothers are worth it" you finally locked eyes with him. "I've known you since we were born, I know that Spanish lady flu hit your family hard" you placed a hand over top of his, "I'm not going anywhere" you finished.

"What'd I ever do to deserve you?" Forrest mumbled, a certain softness coating his voice that was specially reserved for you. "You're you" you smiled, leaning forward to kiss his lips. Forrest groaned into the kiss, enjoying every inch of it. Forrest was a man of few words but some certain three words were just waiting for him to say them,

"I love you"

[hecatemoon87]

🎄Forrest Bondurant: Candycane Kisses

🎁 Eddie Brock: Hot Chocolate

🌟 Tommy Conlon: Christmas Gift

❤️‍🔥 James Delaney: Scrooge

❄️ Bob Saginowski: Christmas Crush

🍬 Ian Eames: Ski Lodge

✨️ Reggie Kray: Snowball Fight

🕯Alfie Solomons: Hanukkah

🎁 Leo Demidov: Happy New Year's

🔥 Freddie Jackson: Cranberry Cocktail

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

The New Girl

Masterlist

Request:

Ooh ooh! Could you please do something with Forrest? Maybe she runs a shop in town and he’s found himself smitten, but of course, doesn’t do anything about it. Even still, he can’t help but find reasons to stop in more frequently than he truly needs to— his brothers know it’s just to see you and joke behind his back about it.

A/N: On a writing roll today! Here's another request fulfilled! I absolutely love Forrest and I think this might be one of my favorite fics. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: light language and violence

Forrest cursed Howard the entire way into town. His only job was to pick up the food crates for the station and he couldn't manage even that. Forrest grumbled about how unreliable his brothers could be. When he parked the truck and got out he noticed something different about the small grocery mart.

The open windows held beautiful potted plants and flowers that swayed in the breeze, the front door was propped open and Forrest could hear light jazz playing from the radio. This was confusing to Forrest, the old man who owned the shop always had the doors and windows closed, and was usually a grump.

Forrest carried in the crates of moonshine he traded with the shop owner for better deals on food. When he entered he saw what he assumed was the cause of all the changes in the shop. A young woman was restocking a shelf and swaying her hips to the music playing, her dress moving in tune with her movements. Forrest froze and watched the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Forrest knew everyone in town, he would definitely remember seeing a face and body as beautiful as hers. She turned fully and jumped a bit when she saw Forrest, but replaced her shock with an equally as beautiful smile.

"Oh! Hi there! I'm Y/N, is there anything I can get you today?" She asked. Her voice held a light southern drawl, one that wouldn't be noticeable if Forrest wasn't as southern as he was.

"Did Clyde sell this place? He's usually the one runnin' things around here." Forrest questioned, placing the crates of shine on the counter.

"Oh no I'm Clyde's niece. He came down with an awful sickness so my aunt asked me to come down from New York to help run the store while she helps him recover." She explained with that same beautiful smile on her face. Forrest nodded and shuffled awkwardly on both feet.

"Well uh- I'm Forrest Bondurant, my brothers an' I live just down the road at the station. I pick up a big load here every Tuesday." Forrest explained. She perked up.

"So you're the Forrest Bondurant I've heard so much about! You boys are practically living legends in this town so they say. My uncle left me a list of regulars, so I have your food all packaged and ready to go!" She spoke, rounding the counter and grabbing four prepared brown bags full of groceries. After placing them on the counter she ran up the till.

"That'll be five dollars, my uncle also wrote down your discount for the shine, awful stuff that is." Y/N giggled, smiling wider as Forrest cracked a small smile.

"It ain't for little women like you, that's for sure." Forrest responded, handing her the bills. She took the payment and scoffed playfully.

"Little? You haven't seen me in a fight, Mr. Bondurant." She said, flexing her bicep. Forrest shocked himself by letting out a quiet chuckle. This girl had managed to make him smile and laugh all in a span of five minutes. Something no one had ever done.

"I'd pay good money to see you in a fight, Mrs. Y/N." She smiled and handed him back his change.

"It's just Miss." He nodded and felt a lurch of excitement in his chest. He thanked her for the groceries and she smiled back, telling him to come back soon. He drove home with the hint of a smile on his face, fantasizing about her laugh and her bubbly personality the whole way back.

For the next few weeks Forrest found any and every reason to go back to the shop. Whether it was for a single piece of bread or a cold soda, Forrest was in the shop.

If Forrest wasn't in the shop, he was driving by it and admiring her from afar. He knew it was creepy, but when he saw her petting and feeding a stray dog, giving free candy to kids who stopped by, and waving and smiling at every passing soul he knew he was hooked by her.

One day as Jack was walking back from Crickets house, he stopped at the sight of the truck the brothers shared. He furrowed his brows and watched Forrest, following his eyeline to see him admiring a woman watering a few plants in an open window sill. At first Jack smiled, he hadn't ever seen his brother with such a look in his eyes. Once the initial sweetness of the situation passed, Jack rushed home out of Forrest's view to tell Howard, they never got the chance to tease Forrest and Jack wasn't going to pass this up.

Hours later, when Forrest came home from a moonshine drop he found his brothers sitting at the bar sipping on shine. He nodded to them and started to walk towards the office.

"Jack, go on and take the car to the grocers, we're out of bread again." Howard spoke, hiding his smirk. Jack nodded and hopped off the stool, grabbing his hat from the bar. Forrest turned and walked towards them.

"Don't bother Jack, you'll just get the wrong kind. I'll go." Both brothers began to laugh at Forrest.

"What the hell is so funny?" He questioned, already irritated at his brothers antics.

"Jack said you had it bad for that girl working at Clyde's shop, sittin' outside starin' at her n' all. I didn't believe 'em till now." Forrest rolled his eyes at his immature brothers and walked off to the exit nonetheless. While Forrest was a bit embarrassed having been caught, it still gave him an excuse to see her again.

In reality the brothers were happy Forrest had found someone, he had been miserable for years until recently. Meeting her was not only beneficial for Forrest but for the brothers as well. He wasn't such a hard ass all the time, as Jack would say.

Forrest drove into town fairly quickly, it was late so the roads were empty. He knew she'd still be there, during one of their daily conversations she expressed how she usually stays late to clean up and lock up. Forrest pulled up and immediately knew something was wrong.

The front door was wide open like usual, but the glass panels were shattered and the lights inside were flickering. He rushed inside and his heart fell to his toes. The shelves were knocked over, produce littered the floor, as well as soil from Y/N's plotted plants that had been smashed. The radio was smoking and fried and Forrest was yet to find her in this mess.

"Y/N?" He called out, his anxiety rising, his hand reaching for his brass knuckles he kept in his cardigan pocket.

"Forrest?" Y/N's quiet, shaky voice called out from behind the counter. Forrest rushed to her and dropped to his knees where Y/N was rested against the wall. Her cheek was split and her makeup was running, tears falling down her face.

"What happened?" Forrest questioned, picking her up like she weighed nothing, placing her on the counter. As she spoke Forrest grabbed a rag and dabbed her cheek with some water from the sink.

"I-I was closing and a few men came in and started yelling about some safe they heard my uncle kept hidden here. I told them the truth, that there wasn't a safe and if there was I wouldn't know where it was. O-one of them hit me to try and get me to talk but decided to ransack the store instead." Y/N sniffled a few more tears falling down her face. Forrest put the rag down and wrapped her up in his big arms, rubbing her back gently.

"You just cry now, let it out." He instructed. She complied and began sobbing into his shoulder. He remained calm for her but in the inside he was fuming, he knew he would find them and when he did they would regret even laying eyes on such a perfect creature as her.

When she wiped her tears and leaned away from Forrest she let out a forced chuckle and sniffled.

"I got your sweater all snotty." She muttered. He forced a small smile and pushed her hair back away from her face.

"That's alright now, don't you go worryin' about that." He instructed. Forrest's eyes wandered around the store and landed on a small pistol that he hadn't seen before. It was on the ground next to where he found Y/N. He picked it up and returned to where she was sitting.

"Why ain't you use this, Y/N?" He questioned, slightly irritated that she had the option to protect herself and didn't use it.

"I-I was going to but I couldn't. I didn't want anyone to get hurt." She muttered tears forming again. He sighed and put the gun down. Her soul was so unbelievably pure that he felt he didn't deserve to be in her presence, but he knew she needed him now.

"Please don't be angry with me Forrest, I knew I should've used it but I really couldn-" Forrest cut her off.

"Enough of that now, you ain't makin' anyone angry so stop thinkin' that. You're gonna come stay at the station until we get this figured out, alright?" Forrest explained gently. She nodded and wiped her nose again.

"I'm staying at the hotel down the road, my aunt didn't want me catching whatever my uncle has so I'm not staying with them." Y/N explained. Forrest nodded and they left the store to collect her things.

When they arrived at the station Forrest ushered her in and both of his brothers halted in conversation, perking up and dropping the cards they were playing. Forrest dropped Y/N's bag by the door.

"Jack, Howard, this is Y/N, someone robbed her store so she'll be stayin' here until the men are.. caught." Forrest explained. Both men stood to introduce themselves and she smiled wide which shocked Forrest who assumed her bubbly personality would have taken a hit tonight. She wrapped her arms around Howard and then Jack.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you! Forrest has told me quite the stories about you two! I hope I'm not imposing on you by staying here." Y/N spoke. Both brothers were shocked nearly silent, Forrest hadn't ever told anyone anything about the brothers. This crush was deeper than either of them knew.

Howard was the first to wipe the shock away.

"Ain't no trouble, you know who roughed ya up?" He questioned in his deep southern drawl. She nodded.

"Not by name, I had seen them a few times around town, they have rotten teeth and oily hair, that's all I really remember. Oh and they all looked alike." Y/N recounted. Howard looked to Forrest and Forrest nodded. Howard knew he and Forrest would be paying these gentleman a visit. The brothers knew the men to be the Fuller brothers. They were a small gang that lived on the outskirts of town and constantly caused trouble.

Forrest showed Y/N to the guest room and dropped her bags by the foot of the bed. When he turned Y/N had wrapped her arms around Forrest for the second time tonight. He immediately responded and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Thank you, Forrest. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't here to help." Y/N muttered into his burly chest. He pulled away and nodded.

"Ain't nothin'. You get some rest now." He instructed. She nodded and he left the room, closing the door. He waited at the bar with Howard for an hour or two, until he knew she was fast asleep. The two brothers instructed Jack to sit up and keep watch if anything were to happen. He protested but a stern look from Forrest shut him up.

The brothers left the station and headed towards where they knew the Fuller brothers were cooped up.

Meanwhile, Y/N struggled to sleep. She was unsettled by the nights events, and her mind refused to let her fall asleep. After about two hours of tossing and turning Y/N gave up and traveled downstairs to find a glass of milk or something of the sort. She hoped she wasn't overstepping by rooting through the kitchen. When she arrived downstairs she saw Jack sitting alone at one of the tables, head thrown back as he snored.

"Jack?" Y/N called out. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking at the voice who called him. He thanked god that it was Y/N and not Forrest who caught him sleeping.

"What you doin' up so late?" Jack questioned. She sat across from him and shrugged.

"Was havin' trouble sleeping is all." Jack smiled at the slight southern accent piercing through. Too much time spent with Forrest, he assumed.

"What are you doing up so late?" She questioned Jack. It was then that he realized he wasn't keeping watch for intruders, he was keeping watch to make sure Y/N didn't see the state of Forrest and Howard when they came home from their late night activities.

Before he could attempt to sway her to her room, Forrest and Howard entered through the front door. All was quiet as Y/N stood and approached Forrest, his shirt, face, and hair covered in blood. He avoided looking at her, he couldn't bear to see the look of fear in her eyes. She grabbed his hand and led him to the upstairs bathroom quietly.

She grabbed a wash rag and cleaned off his face. After tossing the rag into the tub she pushed his cardigan off and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hand grabbed hers.

"What're you doin?" He questioned. She pushed his hand off and continued unbuttoning, pushing his shirt off ad throwing both items of clothes in the tub.

"Don't want you to stain your favorite sweater." She explained simply.

"You're not.. scared?" Forrest questioned quietly. She shook her head and finally halted her movements, looking into his eyes.

"I know what you did for me Forrest. I'm not scared of you and I never will be, I love you too much to be scared." She admitted. He swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

"I know you're not used to hearing that, I don't expect you to say it back but it is how I truly feel." She continued, now moving to the tub to scrub the clothes. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his bare chest, pressing his plump lips to hers. They kissed for what felt like an eternity before Forrest pulled away.

"I-I love you too, what do you say about marryin' me?" He questioned. She smiled and pecked his lips.

"Forrest, I thought you'd never ask."

[sparklemichele]

City Girl

“You are looking good Ida.” Howard admired Ida as she handed him money for the moonshine she was getting. Ida’s smile widen as she looked at her lover.

“Well thank you baby. How you doing Forrest?” Ida looked over at Forrest who was leaned against Ida’s bar looking relaxed. Forrest gave Ida a curt nod not answering her.

“Y/N!” Ida called to the back room. “Come help me with the shine.”

“Ida, I got you. Where do you want it?” Howard picked up the crate of shine to carry to where Ida needed. You walked out the room and stopped short when you saw the gentlemen at the bar. Your brown eyes immediately gravitated to the tall, large man with a homely looking grey sweater over his large frame and a light brown hat lowered on his head almost covering up his eyes. Your eyes met his and you found herself looking away from his intense gaze.

“Forrest, Howard this is my niece Y/N, all the way from New York. She’s come down to spend time with her auntie.”

You slowly walked up to the bar as your aunt gave introductions. With his hands full of shine Howard nodded his greeting as Ida pointed to where she wanted the crate. Forrest looked you up and down and with a grunt walked out the door. You must admit his reaction to you confused you. You were used to people being assholes sometimes toward you, especially living in the city, but your auntie had told you the Boudurants were good people. Also, what was up with the look he gave you. Noticing the confusion on your face your aunt told you that was how Forrest was and take it with a grain of salt. You shook your head. He had no kind of personality, however as you prepared the bar for the evenings guest your mind kept wandering to him and the look, he gave you.

The crowd was slowly dying out as you started to clean up after the rowdy customers.

“Baby girl can you lock up?” Ida asked as she grabbed her coat.

“Yeah, where are you going auntie?”

“Me and Howard are meeting up. Howard will bring me home later so don’t wait up for me.” Ida winked at you as she walked out the door. The next morning when you went to wake up your aunt you noticed her bed had not been slept in. You called out to her in the house to no answer. You were getting worried as this was not like her. She stayed out late a lot, but she always came home before sunup. You decided to go find Howard and see if she was still with him. Getting dress, you grabbed the keys to Ida’s vehicle and tried to remember where your aunt showed you the Boudurants stayed. After taking a few wrong turns you finally found their gas station and restaurant. You parked your car in front and found Forrest sitting in front of the restaurant smoking a large cigar. He did not greet you as he watch you get out the vehicle. As you got closer, he looked you up and down again. You swallowed and greeted him asking if he has seen your aunt. Forrest continues to stare at you and causing you to shift on your feet. Why won’t he just answer you?

“She’s upstairs with Howard.” He finally answered with the cigar still in his mouth. His voice was deep, and his southern accent was thick. You found yourself staring at his luscious lips wrapped around the cigar.

“Okay, can you tell her I’m here to take her home.” You told him snapping out of your little trance. Forrest slowly got up and opened the screen door to the small restaurant. As he walked in, he opened the screen door a little wider signaling you to come in. You smiled up at him, which was not returned, as you stepped through the threshold and waited for him to get your aunt. Forrest disappeared in a back room leaving you alone. You looked around the bar and restaurant and frowned as you noticed how unkempt it was. Did anyone pick up after the customers? After a few moments of looking around you found yourself picking up plates and glasses sitting them on the sticky bar counter. You were about to head to the back to look for a sink to put the dishes in when the door open and a couple of men walked in. You and the men eye each other in suspicion.

“Bondurants got coloreds working for them now?” One of the men asked in disgust. You heard Forrest enter the room before you can retort with a smart remark.

“What you say?” Forrest asked angrily walking up to them.

“When you let a colored work here?” The tall, thin blonde asked Forrest. You noticed Forrest clenched his fists at his side.

“I suggest you leave before I bash your teeth in.” You successfully hid your gasp of surprise. The men looked over at you and then Forrest.

“You going to regret this, Forrest.” The blonde hissed at him before they both exit the establishment. Forrest relaxed his fists. He did not turn to face you as he was still watching the door. You walked up to him, and you stopped in your tracks just before reaching his personal space. You can feel and see he was angry. You can see by his side profile his jaw was clenched and he was tying to control his breathing.

“Thank you.” You whispered to him scared to speak loudly. As if realizing you were in the room Forrest looked over at you a little startled. You unconsciously took a step back and his face softens as he saw your reaction.

“Ida’s still with Howard. He will bring her home shortly.” He told you as his eyes wandered to the clean tables. “You cleaned?”

“A little. Do you not have someone to help you with keeping the place together?”

Forrest shook his head no.

“I can help you with that.” You were about to go stir crazy at your aunts and plus you were drawn to Forrest and wanted an excuse to see him more. You wanted to see if you could break his tough exterior. You loved a challenge. A small frown displayed on Forrest’s face.

“Help with what?” He asked truly confused.

“Keeping your place clean.”

Forrest eyes burned into yours.

“Don’t you do that at Ida’s.”

“Yeah, but she has enough help. Looks like you can use some.”

Before Forrest can answer the door swung open and two young men walked in.

“Hey Forrest.” One of the young men greeted. Forrest nodded.

“Jack.”

Jack looked over at you.

“Who is this?”

“This is Ida’s niece Y/N. She’s gonna help keep this place straighten since I can’t depend on you or Howard for help.”

Your head snapped in Forrest’s direction. He remembered your name. You suppressed your smile as you thought of the ways you could break his shell. Jack extended his hand, and you shook it as he introduced you to his friend Cricket.

“I can show you around.” Jack offered.

“Yes, thank you.” You followed Jack behind the bar and before you walked into their kitchen you looked back at Forrest whose eyes were trained on your ass. Both your eyes caught each other’s, and Forrest showed no hint of embarrassment. He surprised you as he just stood their and lazily looked you up and down. He did not move as you turned around and entered the kitchen. Your smile widen as you thought of how much fun it would be working at the Bondurants.

@virgosapphire79 @laketaj24 @imgoldielikehawn @readsalot73 @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @mimigemrose @titty-teetee @kmhappybunny240

[cinebration]

Too Young (Forrest Bondurant x Reader) [Request]

I’m fine thank you can I describe my request because there is a no word for this at least i dont know I’m 21 so if you include this in imagine i will be really happy i love forrest bondurant he is shy caring strong and little bit mad giant bear a i want it fluffy and little bit angst I thought forrest wouldn’t want to love younger than him. I hope i can tell what i request because english not my native thank you so much again not much forrest imagine i really love this — Requested by @shooterere

This turned into something more than I expected. I had fun!

Warnings: none

Gif Source: fandomfatale

Pa operated one of the smaller bootlegging businesses in the county, but the moonshine he made was worth a hundred of the bottles being churned out by other operations in the immediate vicinity. People paid good money for your pa’s moonshine, though you wouldn’t know it to look at you and your family.

You lived in a ramshackle house on the edge of a farm known for producing one good crop for every five. You had just as many siblings, all of them younger than you, racing around the house like demons and driving both you and your beleaguered mother to wits’ end. So when Pa asked you to make a delivery, on account that the oldest of your brothers was a scant fourteen, and the fact that no one would stop you, you leapt at the opportunity. You put on your Sunday best, though it wasn’t much, and drove the old beat-up Ford truck down the country road into town.

It was there you met Forrest Bondurant. He operated the gas station you pulled up to after you delivered the moonshine. The smell of pie wafting from inside the restaurant behind the station was too good to resist.

He sat alone, his hat resting on the table in front of him. Glancing up when you entered, his brow furrowed as you slowly walked through the restaurant and up to the counter. You ordered a slice of the pie and a small cup of coffee, no cream, no sugar.

“This ain’t the watered-downed stuff,” the waitress told you.

“I know.”

The apple pie was thick and rich with apples and cinnamon flavoring. As you sat eating it, you swept your gaze around the room. There weren’t many people inside, but as soon as you fixed on Forrest, all else fell away. He met your eyes levelly, a frown pulling on his mouth. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear nervously, you returned to your meal.

He approached you a moment later, the scrape of his chair back against the wooden floor alerting you to his intentions. You swallowed thickly, working up your courage as your heart fluttered with hope.

“You Frost Farm’s oldest?” The way his voice purred made a shiver roll through you even as disappointment followed it. He wasn’t interested in you, only in who your pa was.

“Yeah,” you answered, looking down.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“Making a delivery.”

“Your pa sends you off to do that yourself?”

“My first time today, but he hurt himself, so I figure I’ll be doing it for some time.”

“How’d he hurt himself?”

“He fell,” you lied.

Forrest’s gaze burned through you. Standing firm, you ate the last of the pie and swigged it down with the dregs of the coffee, the bitter mingling with the sweet down your throat. Excusing yourself, you slipped off the stool and kept yourself from sprinting away to the beat of your thumping heart.

~~

Forrest showed up the next day at the farm. You were out in the field, elbow-deep in the dirt, when the truck engine chugged up the dirt road. You recognized it vaguely as one you had seen parked outside the Bondurant gas station. You didn’t see who exited the vehicle.

Turning back to your work, you yanked out another weed and ignored the beating of the sun overhead.

When your stomach rumbled as the sun reached its zenith, you rubbed off the dirt on your apron and headed back inside for lunch. The truck was still parked outside the house.

As you neared the front door, it opened. You froze in your tracks. Forrest Bondurant stepped across the threshold, bidding your parents goodbye with some mumbled words. He paused when he saw you.

“Mr. Bondurant,” you said, nodding nervously.

He nodded back, putting the hat firmly on his head. His gaze swept over you. You became painfully aware of the dirt across your hands and knees and how it stained your apron and dress.

“I’m taking you for your other deliveries,” he mumbled suddenly. “’Til your pa gets better.”

You blinked in surprise, tried to find words. “Thank you.”

He nodded and stepped past you, leaving you stunned on the porch.

~~

The first few deliveries, made in your truck, not Bondurant’s, passed in awkward silence. You didn’t quite mind it so much, if it weren’t for the fact that being nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the man was sending your senses quite mad. Not even the Franklin boy from the farm next door had made you as deliciously nervous as Forrest did. Your head swam with it.

But the trips after that improved when you began talking to him. You didn’t say too much, because he seemed too quiet to listen to you ramble on. Rather than complain about your siblings or the lack of help for the farm, you focused instead on the moonshine business.

“I dunno know if Pa told you, but we got into trouble with the law,” you said after a delivery. “They wanted our earnings, but Pa told ’em that we don’t have enough to pay. They broke his leg for that.”

“Were you there?”

“Outside, looking between the slats. I waited ’til they were gone before I went in to help Pa.”

Forrest frowned. “Why were you there?”

“I work the stills.”

He fixed you with a stare.

“It’s nothing,” you assured him. “I like the work, honest. It’s very methodical, and I like that.”

Forrest remained silent for the rest of the drive ’til you neared town.

“Show me,” he said.

You hesitated. “But you’re the competition.”

“I won’t steal your secrets. I just want to see.”

You wanted to show him, to impress him, but the idea of the Bondurants taking over your stills or trying to use your methods nagged at you. The desire to please him won out. You turned the car toward the farm and drove well past it, deep into the woods extending beyond it. Then you hooked a right and stopped the truck.

From there, you walked Forrest all the way down into a small ravine that led to a cave in the hill swelling behind it. The cave smelled cool and a bit damp, but you had remedied that with some techniques to moderate the temperature. Forrest made a circuit of the room, eyeing your still critically as you walked him through parts of your process.

“Figure we could make gin this way eventually, too,” you said, “when they lift the Prohibition.”

He looked at you keenly.

“They’ll do it,” you assured him. “Otherwise we’ll have ourselves another war.”

He grunted noncommittally and took a swig from a nearby bottle, testing the quality of the moonshine. The soft light from the oil lamp you had lit bathed his face in warm golds. Caught up by the vision, you reached out and gently touched his cheek.

He froze, turned woodenly to you. The guarded look in his eyes discouraged you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“You’re too young.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

He shook his head.

Frustration welled up within you. You glanced up at him, your hand clenching into a fist at your side. “Too young. Too female. Too fragile. You sound like every other man I’ve ever talked to.”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback by your sudden emotion.

“I can do more than you think I can, and I’m not that fragile. I’ve had to grow up fast, because Ma’s too weak and Pa’s not got enough boys yet to help him.” You grabbed his hand suddenly, pressed his palm flat against yours. “Feel that? I don’t have soft hands. Those are working hands. When I’m not in the fields, I’m in here, making the best goddamn moonshine in the county. I don’t have time, you see, to waste on being young.”

Forrest stared into your face as the wind died out of you. You turned away, suddenly embarrassed by the outburst. “Get out of my workshop.”

He didn’t even hesitate. He walked right of the cave. You waited fifteen minutes before realizing that it was rude to let him walk all the way back to town on foot. You raced to the truck and drove down the road until you found him lumbering across the dirt. You drew up beside him and wordlessly opened the door. He hesitated before climbing up into the cab.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt his eyes on you the entire drive, as though he were trying to keep you rooted to the spot. At last, you arrived at the gas station.

“You don’t come with me on deliveries anymore,” you said.

He didn’t get out of the car. “Who else has said those things to you?”

“What things?”

“About you being too weak.”

You shrugged. “Everyone. Probably your own damned brothers, for all I know. ‘Waste of a pretty face, making that girl work the fields. She ought to be providing a family.’ But I like the work. I like working.”

The cab filled with silence as Forrest stared out the windshield at the dark restaurant. Exhaustion settled in your bones from the emotional outburst and the pain of rejection.

“If you worked here,” Forrest said suddenly,” your hands wouldn’t be so rough.”

You frowned. “But I don’t work here.”

“I could get someone to work for your pa on the farm,” he continued in a low rumble. “And you could work here and your workshop.”

“Are you offering me a job?”

He grunted.

“Why?”

He shifted uneasily on the seat. “To keep you around, if you won’t let me make deliveries with you.”

The pieces didn’t quite fit together. “Why would you want to keep me around? I’m too young, you said.”

“I did,” he agreed.

“Then why?”

He fixed his eyes on you with a look that said, Do I really have to say it?

You met his gaze for a long while before slowly nodding, feeling something like hope flutter in your chest again. He nodded back, grunted quietly, and wished you a good night as he climbed out of the car.

[hardyimagines]

A Crave For Fame

Would love a Forrest piece, maybe where you’re cornered by some bad guy and Forrest steps in and you nurse him. Bandaging his wounds and what not. You get really close to his face and he acts nonchalant about it but you’re really shy. Ends in a heated kiss. Lots of fluff.

TW: Mild Violence

———————————————————————

1932.

The bar smelt like thick liquor and dried throw up. The top of your nose was red and cold from the chilly wind as it whipped around outside swirling in circles, shaking tree branches until they were forced to drop their leaves, whisking up grains of dirt and sending them flying in the direction of those who were outside. It was a dust storm of some sort, that’s what people were referring to it as. The air outside was orange and murky, it looked as if the clouds had descended and were making the world all puffy and one big blur.

The tips of your painted nails slid along the straps of your bright red apron. Unhooking the fabric from the silver hook on the wall, you briefly ogled the peeling paper, crisp and dangling like a hangnail waiting to be ripped off. The apron wasn’t exactly required, but you found that it definitely helped to wear something in order to prevent having alcohol sloshed and spilled and stuck on you when rowdy customers would shake their heavy fists and bounce their heavy, drunk bodies on the counter stools.

Regardless of how many times you wiped down the counter, it always seemed to have a slick, sticky feeling to it and the lemon scent only masked the stench of whiskey and rum for a limited amount of time. The sign outside read ‘Restaurant’ and the sign further forward read ‘Gas station’, and while there was a small supply of gas and a short list of food items on the menu, that wasn’t at all what this place was truly selling.

It was the prohibition era. People were parched and the only way to quench their thirst was by giving them a cold beverage that scalded their throat as it went down. The smooth liquor was rich, bitter, sweet, plain. Everybody had their preference. You weren’t much of a drinker, but pouring beverages was easy enough and from the looks of approval you received all the time, you’d assume you were doing a pretty good job.

Working for bootleggers was never something that had spiked your interest in the past - and maybe it wouldn’t have when you had sauntered up the hill when it was pouring down rain a year ago, but one look at the man had charge had sent you reeling. You didn’t want to work anywhere else.

Forrest Bondurant was one of, if not, the most attractive men you’d ever seen. He had big blue eyes and a head of constantly gelled hair. Why he went through the trouble of styling such a mess, you didn’t know, majority of the time he wore a hat on top of it anyway. He was always strolling around in his big gray cardigan with a button down or another sweater underneath. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d overfilled the shot glasses on the bar and spilled liquor all over your fingers and the counter, just because staring at him was such a distraction. He didn’t notice though, and if he did, he didn’t say anything.

The front door opened with a loud creak, the hinges loudly alerting whoever had just entered that they were in no shape to be handled so roughly. The door swung shut, slamming loudly behind the new guest. His eyes shimmered green and his teeth sparkled white. The man removed his top hat and strode up to the counter with so much confidence you could’ve upchucked. Men like him made you want to spit in their drinks.

“What can I get for you?” You asked, not bothering to stop and give him the eye contact that he was clearly searching for.

“Something light.” The man said. “I won’t be staying long.” He pressed his elbow against the counter, but made no mention of the filth or the stench.

It wasn’t busy yet, but there were always people inside. Either they slept the night at the bar counter, on the floor, at a table, or outside, or they showed up as bright and early as the sun did, ready to start drinking the day away. Most of the customers that tended to be here so long just made their own drinks when you rested. Forrest knew them, you knew them, so there was no harm done. But this man, he was a completely new face.

“Something light as in water?” You said, pouring a shot of water and replacing it with the shot of vodka that one of the men had been drinking. He was green in the face and looked about ready to faint. You knew he needed to be eased off the liquor, you couldn’t just flat out say that - people reacted too differently to know if it would be a threat or not to cut someone’s intake off.

The man snorted. “Why would I come into a bar for a glass of water?”

You arched a slow brow. “The same reason you’d come in and ask for something light - we have liquor, straight from the bottle. It’s not dolled up and pretty, we don’t have any mixers, it’s just straight alcohol.” You didn’t say another word, instead you finally let your eyes flicker to his own, resisting the urge to glare. But your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t have time for games and he was beating around the bush.

The man sighed. “Moonshine.” He said before lowering himself down on the stool. “And maybe a drink of you?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, as if he were positive you’d take him up on his offer. He found himself hilarious.

Turning on the heel of your pointed boot, you wrapped your slender fingers around the neck of the silver bottle. Rotating, you poured a perfect glass of moonshine and then set the glass down in front of him. No spillage. The liquid was filled to the brim. Extending your arm, your palm creased as you curled your finger inward, waiting to be paid.

Instead, the man grasped your wrist and pressed it against the bar counter. “How about you give this one to me for free? Since I don’t see you marching that ass of yours from out behind the counter.” He patted his lap for good measure. “I went ahead and saved you a seat,” He motioned to his thigh again. “but you know, you’re being awful rude.”

Your eyes creased in the corners, stare hardening as the man tightened his hold on your wrist. Forrest was a shout away, but you were a big girl, not some maiden in a tower waiting to be rescued. Attempting to jerk your arm back to yourself, you hissed under your breath when he turned it at an odd angle. All the other men in the room were out old or oblivious. You could scream their names and they probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

You flinched as he began to rifle through his pocket.

“I’ll give you something.” He said, masking the tone of his voice for a more gentle and apologetic one. But you weren’t an idiot, so you didn’t let your guard down. But it wasn’t as if you could just rip your arm away from him. He was insanely strong and you, unfortunately, didn’t get much upper arm strength pouring drinks. Before you could utter a word, he pressed a cigarette against his lips and lit the end. The brownish-orange tip of the stick illuminated with bright orange embers as he inhaled and the smoke lifted from the end of the form of payment.

“Let me go.” You insisted, practically ripping at your arm so hard that your wrist had gone numb from his tight grasp.

“After I pay you.” He said. You didn’t know what to expect, a puff of smoke being blown in your direction? The man pinched the stick with his knuckles, clasping it between his pointer finger and his middle finger. He rotated it swiftly, pinching it then between his thumb and pointer finger. As suddenly as he moved the smoking tip toward your flesh, your eyes flickered with realization. And then you began to squirm.

“Hey..” You pulled harder. “What are you doing?” It was so obvious. But in a panicked state of mind were you expected to speak adequately. “Let me go, please..” Begging was never one of your strong suits. It just didn’t fit you. You hated it, having to ask someone to have mercy on you. But you didn’t fancy smelling burnt flesh, or feeling the pain that would come along with seared flesh. Scream for help, your brain said. You’re a big girl, but you can still ask for help, it reminded you.

The ashes fell from their loose spots on the cigarette, floating across your skin, dusting it with kisses. The ashes gathered on the counter as he lowered the hot tip of the cigarette toward your flexed forearm. Forrest’s name was on the tip of your tongue, but the pink muscle felt swollen and useless. There was a block in your throat that wouldn’t let your voice free and for the first time in a long time, fear surged through you like a whirlwind, resembling the very state of weather outside. Your body ran hot with fear and as you jerked your elbow to the side, the glass of moonshine toppled over and clattered against the floor.

Pieces scattered along the floor as the cup smashed on impact. If that wasn’t enough to lure Forrest out of office, then perhaps your cry of agony would. But the bloke was just a sliver of a second too late. The tip of the cigarette grazed your skin, enough to leave a slight burn, but as quickly as the glass had broken, Forrest had appeared.

He didn’t hover in the doorway to inspect what was going on. Someone had their hands on you and right away, it was unacceptable. The big, burly man strode forward. His thick fingers curled in the caramel flannel that the bastard was wearing. Forrest snatched the cigarette from his pinched fingers and immediately snubbed the lit tip out by pressing the hot surface against the man’s cheek.

The bloke let out a nasty yell, finally releasing your arm. You lifted your hands, on instinct, to cup over your ears, blocking out the sound of his pained shouting as best as you could.

His cry was like a signal though. The doors flew open and three other men piled in. It was rumored that the Bondurant brother’s were all invincible - especially Forrest. He’d survived a lot - brutal attacks, life-threatening illnesses, having his throat slit, his heart broken, wars. But could he take on four men?

Dropping your hands from your ears when the yelling stopped, you crouched down and began to twist the knob on the safe. It was a sixteen digit pin, so it would take a moment to open, but the revolver inside had six bullets, so you be able to wipe out all of the men with that if it came down to it. You weren’t peering over the bar counter to see what was happening. You were scared - terrified. A part of you wanted to leap into your boss’s arms and give him a bear hug, another part of you wanted to hide in those big arms of his and just forget that your arm had almost been burnt to a crisp. Instead, there was just a very small burn. It was nothing to worry over, nothing in comparison to the burn on the man’s face.

“What the fuck are you all standing there for!” The man rasped loudly, clutching his hand to his face as if the skin on skin contact would help him. “Get him!”

All three men moved forward. One was smoking a cigar - very nonchalant as he marched toward Forrest, one was sweating like he’d just ran a marathon, and the other was blinking furiously as if the dust outside had momentarily blinded him.

Forrest stuck his hand in his pocket and used his fingers to make the shape of a gun. The outline was bulky and visible and the three men hesitated, if only for a second. “I’d think very carefully on what you’re ‘bout to do next, boys.” Forrest spoke softly. His voice was quiet, slow. It was silky against your ears.

You poked your head out for half a second, blindly rotating to nozzle all the way to the left - 11, and then all the way to the right, 5. Inputting every single number as quickly as you could, you jumped in fear at the sound of a sickening crack. You jumped up, expecting to see Forrest laying in a heap on the floor, but instead it was just one of the other men. Forrest stood with his bloodied hand hanging at his side. Blood dripped from the brass knuckles he wore, droplets staining the wooden floorboards. Forrest sneered.

“Who’s next?” He inquired. “The man with the cigarette burn, the broken jaw, the blind one, or the sweaty one.” He flexed his fingers for a moment, waiting impatiently for one of them to charge at him.

What he didn’t expect was for the untouched duo to jump toward him at the same time. He sent his fist flying directly into one of their spine’s, but with the help from the bastard who now had a permanent scar on his cheek, Forrest was sent directly down and on to his back. The men tackled him and you trembled on the spot.

Shakily crouching back down, you began to finish off the code. Forrest’s groans of pain were evident. He was rasping, moaning, putting up as much of a fight as he could. He swung his arms and tried desperately to cover his face. Two men grabbed his arms and pulled them apart, leaving his face and stomach vulnerable to their boss.

The man’s cheek was sunken where the hole was forming. His eyes were red and watery and his stance was slightly shaky. But he had the upper hand as he moved forward. His hand dropped to his pocket and without any hesitance, he pulled a knife free from a holster.

“Now then, why don’t I reopen that cut on your throat?” The man sneered, already beginning to crouch down. Forrest’s nose was bleeding, his eye was swollen and purple. You were sure his stomach would be doused in bruises in the morning and his fingers would be cramped, locked, and jammed.

The safe opened with a quiet buzz and you, with an eagerness, desperately grabbed the handle of the gun and stood. Your hold was steady and your aim was perfect. You’d been working here for a little more than a year, and Forrest had taught you how to shoot within your first few weeks.

Extending your arms out, you held the gun steady as you cocked the revolver. “Hey, asshole.” You said breathily. “If you lay one more finger on him, I’ll kill you.” You could tell by the man’s tense back and resistance to look in your direction that he knew you weren’t bluffing. He slowly tucked away the blade and then sucked in a deep breath of air.

“You’re the first group of people to put up such an unnecessary fight. My brother’s and I, this is what we do, free alcohol from the bootleggers and pretty women are an extra bonus.” He snorted before looking in your direction.

You scowled, before demanding. “Leave..” And although you wanted them to, to all just pile out toward the entrance and get the hell out of here, it worried you. What if they came back sometime in the night when everyone was vulnerable and sleeping? Your eyes were distant as you pondered how this would end. You could blow another hole in his other cheek, though that one would be far more deadly. Or you could let them go.

“Forrest..” You whispered. His guidance was definitely a necessity right now. It wasn’t too often you found yourself in this position. The floorboards creaked underneath you as you shuffled your weight from foot to foot. Forrest sat up with a low grumble, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. He jerked his arms free from the hold the men had had on him and as he began to stand, he spun around and grabbed the back of their necks. Shoving them toward one another so their skulls rammed into each other, he shoved them both to the floor and then retrieved his brass knuckles. Two opponents down, and one more left.

Forrest gave each of them a few extra punches to the face for good measure, wanting them to realize that they truly weren’t a match for the invincible Bondurant. He whirled around to face the last man, the one who thought he could lay a hand on you, the one who thought he could use you as an ashtray and that would be fine.

The man did that to all of the bartenders, marking them in each town he passed through. His real name wouldn’t live on in the history books, but what he’d done would. Who wouldn’t want to read about a man that burned bartenders with a cigarette butt as a form of payment? It made him want to laugh on the spot.

Instead, he dove head first across the bar counter and directly into you. When it came to fight or flight, your reflexes were clearly to just freeze. His body sent yours crumbling to the floor. It was sticky and disgusting because you only mopped on the weekend. You have a sharp cry of pain and fear as he ripped the gun from your hand and pressed the tip against your chin. “Now then,” He sneered down at you. “You didn’t want a cigarette burn, maybe you’d like a bullet wound. I won’t kill you, I need you alive so you can tell the story about me.” His eyes creased with his lopsided grin and his breath - it stunk of peanuts and smoke. He didn’t even take a sip of the moonshine, it sat prettily on the bar, the liquid shaking from all the movement in the bar.

Forrest stepped toward the bar to help you, just as the man jerked you up and to your feet by your hair. Your eyes were opened wide and your eyes were pleading. The barrel of the gun caressed your soft skin, stroking your chin until he dared to move the gun to your lips. You jerked your head away, scoffing under your breath at the audacity of this man. He must’ve thought he was in a movie with the way he was behaving, talking about himself as if one day he’d be some big story. Your watery eyes moved to Forrest. He hadn’t budged. His knuckles were bloody and dripping - his blood or the men’s blood he didn’t know. All he saw was red. He felt hot and irritated, at a loss of control.

“What do you want?” Forrest said. His voice was so monotone. He sounded like he was taking someone’s order for food, not trying to save your life.

The man chortled. “I want you to light a cigarette and put it out on her body. I’ll let you choose where.” The man moved his hand to the back of your neck, roughly pinching it before he shoved you as hard as possible out from behind the bar and in the direction of your boss. He didn’t follow, he kept four feet between himself and the two of you. The gun was cocked and pointed, all he had to do was shoot.

Your feet didn’t cooperate with your mind, especially not after being forcefully sent flying forward. You rammed right into Forrest’s broad chest, arms immediately lifting so that you could clutch on to his cardigan. No part of you worried that he’d actually do what he was told. This was Forrest, he had a way out of everything - you hoped. Lifting your watery eyes to his own as he pressed his thick fingers against your elbow, steadying you, he checked your face for any signs of injury before slipping his other arm around you as well. You’d never been so close to him, pressed flush against him with hardly any room to breathe.

The man reached up and pinched the front of his hat. Removing the accessory, he lowered it to your head, shielding you from what was to come. Should he be shot, he didn’t think that was something you should see. You blinked slowly, your breaths seeming louder than usual beneath the oversized hat. You couldn’t see much, nothing but the ground and his belly as it rose and fell with every inhale and exhale.

So what happened next made you flinch. It was loud, so loud, there were screams of pain and the sound of cracking bones. Forrest hadn’t moved, he was still standing firmly with his feet planted against the wooden floor. His fingertips dared to brush along your arm, slow and assuring as he watched the scene play out. His brothers weren’t the best fighters, they weren’t the best when it came to confrontation, but regardless of what was happening they’d always have his back like he had theirs.

Without explaining what was going on, Forrest merely lifted the front of his hat so that he could see your features. Inspecting you closely, he let out a quiet grunt before giving you the best smile he could muster. With a swollen lip and a bruised eye, the expression didn’t seem fitting. Who’d be happy at a time like this? Relief colored his features as he slowly brushed his knuckles along your warm skin before he parted his lips to speak.

You beat him to it though. “Thank you..” You whispered softly before dragging yourself back. You didn’t want to suffocate him or make him uncomfortable by clinging to him. There was no longer a threat. “Come on,” You murmured softly. “Let me look at your injuries.” Peeling the hat off of your head, your slender fingers slipped through his own and you slowly guided him toward one of the tables. It was wiped clean, void of any crumbs or liquor, so you set the hat down on the surface and then nudged him gently to take a seat.

Forrest’s knees popped under the pressure and his bloodied hands moved to his stomach. It was only then, when he felt the pressure of the brass knuckles, that he realized he hadn’t taken them off. His fingers felt swollen and stiff and his arms refused to move for a few moments.

You have him a soft smile before slowly reaching for his hand. Your touch was delicate and slow as you pried the brass knuckles off of him. Setting the tool on the table, you turned around to fetch the first aid kit from behind the bar, just as Howard and Jack were hauling the bloke toward the exit. They’d be back for the other three as well.

You stepped over the unconscious bodies on the floor - some drunkards, and the three others were Forrest’s attackers. Retrieving the fallen revolver, you uncocked the weapon and slipped it back in the safe before securely closing the black case and then retrieving the plastic first aid box. The white handle fit snugly in your small palm as you pulled it free from its place under the bar.

You didn’t have the confidence that you’d be able to fix Forrest up as good as new, but you were certain that you’d be able to prevent anymore swelling, help some go down, and patch up the spots on his face that were bleeding. Your boots clicked softly against the floorboards as you made your way over to the table. Setting the box down, you undid the clasps on the front and then pushed it open. Dragging out the small container of alcohol, some gauze, a few wipes, and an ice packet, you gave him a small smile.

Forrest watched your every movement through one good eye, and one half-opened, swollen, purple eye. His nose was busted and bleeding and purple in the center. It didnt look broken, but it certainly looked bruised.

“Could I wipe your hands clean?” You asked softly. There was always an ever present shyness to you when it came to the man seated in front of you. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you feel so nervous, but you felt the need to shy away after every word exchanged.

He gave a quiet hum before lifting his hands and laying them on the table. His knuckles were tense and bleeding in various places. The impact of the brass knuckles hammering against a man’s face, still brought a small amount of pain to the man’s knuckles. He shuffled, watching you as you slipped your hand into his own and lifted it. The sun poured in through the window, falling across the injury so you could see perfectly. You opened the bottle of alcohol, dousing the cloth in it before you gently began to wipe away the smudges of blood and then cleaned the opened wounds, cuts and scrapes that bled like gashes.

He didn’t wince or jerk away even though it stung horribly. It wasn’t a matter of protecting his ego, everyone experienced pain at some point in their life. Adjusting his hand lightly, he cleared his throat before letting his thick fingers drop to his lap when you were finished cleaning them up. “Would you have really shot him?” He asked suddenly.

Your eyes lifted to his own as he asked such a thing. You stepped away again to retrieve some ice, but his words burned your ears. As you filled the ice pack, you couldn’t help but wonder what the honest answer was. Would you have shot him? Blinking a few times, you carried the ice pack back over to your boss and slowly lifted it so that he could hold it in place over his eye. “Yes.” You said after what felt like an eternity to him. “In the leg.. perhaps, or the arm.” You offered. “But I don’t think I couldve killed him.”

Forrest gave a soft nod. “I didn’t expect you to.” He assured you before giving you the best smile he could muster. “I’m incredibly grateful that you.. well, put your life on the line for me like that. He could’ve killed you.”

You snorted. “You and me both. But we’re fine.” Guiding his hand to the ice pack so he could hold it on the wound, you then began to tend to his nose. There wasn’t much you could do, apart from clean up the dried blood that rested underneath his nostril. He had stubble, dancing along the length of his warm flesh. His cheeks and his jaw were coated in the fine hairs, giving some texture to his face as your hand cupped the sharp surface, thumb grazing his chin so that you could tip his head back.

The close proximity was numbing. You felt like you’d been swallowed by a flame. Maybe it was the way the sun illuminated the both of you, but the heat you felt was completely internal. Fidgeting for a moment under his unwavering stare, you watched as the white cloth turned red and his red skin returned to the initial paleness it ordinarily was. Crumbling the rag, you laid it on the table before leaning into him so you could get a better look at his eye. You moved the ice pack, squinting as you inspected the damage.

“I’m not doctor, Mr. Bondurant.. you’re probably better off having this injury looked at.” You suggested before straightening. Your arms slowly crossed over your chest, warm fingertips tracing the sleeves of your shirt.

Forrest grumbled something incoherent before giving you a soft nod. “Feels just fine.” He lied.

“Forrest.” You scolded him. “It’s swollen shut.”

The man arched a brow. Very rarely did you use his first name. His large palm lifted, covering his eye so that he could watch you through the swollen one. “See. Works just fine.”

You squinted challengingly before shaking your head in mild amusement. The man was insufferable. You made movement to turn to clean up the first aid kit tools, but he grasped your forearm tenderly in his large palm.

“Id know if something were wrong with my eye, Y/n, because you look just as beautiful through my swollen eye as you do with my two good ones.” He pulled you in his direction, his expression a pleading one. “Perhaps you should take one more look at it.”

Your brows furrowed at the compliment he’d given you before you stumbled in his direction. Laying your nimble fingers against the unsturdy, wooden arm of the chair. Inspecting his eye as he asked, you gave him a small, shy smile. “Mr. Bondurant, I believe you..” Though you weren’t sure if you did or you just wanted to put some proximity between you and his body. He was so warm and inviting, it drove you up the wall.

Forrest leaned forward. He enjoyed seeing you squirm so much. You were riddled with your fear of being unliked by him, even though it was clear he felt the same things for you. The man’s hand was gentle as it slid up the length of your arm so he could brush a few of your tresses back and out of your eyes.

Your cheeks felt unbelievably warm in this moment. You were sure that if they could be, they’d be the color of a ripe tomato. Lifting your free hand to steady yourself, you pressed it against his strong shoulder. “What are you doing..?” You breathed, attempting to rack your brain for some sort of explanation for his actions. Your brain refused to help you, it was completely blank. The closer your face grew to his own, the hotter you became and the more your brain shut down. You felt like a blob of jello.

He couldn’t help but smile. He sensed your shyness, which was exactly why he didn’t offer any words. Just actions. He figured they’d speak louder. Besides, he had to thank you in some enjoyable fashion. Why not with a kiss? The man spread his thighs wide enough to give you a place to stand. Drawing you forward, he moved his hands to your curvy waist and held on to you as his hot breaths began to mingle with your own.

All at once, your brow smoothed and your mind was completely blank. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but the hammering of your own heart, smelled nothing but him - and he smelt like smoke and liquor, you felt nothing but his hard body under your palm, and soon you’d taste nothing but those big, pink lips of his. Your own mouth parted, incredibly too willingly, and all at once your mouth’s molded together like long lost pieces to a missing puzzle.

Your body fell into his lap, arms appearing to be insanely slender as they curled around his wide, broad, muscular shoulders. Forrest moved his hand to your leg, steadying you with one hand on your thigh and the other laid against your back. His mouth was slow, tentative, and curious as it moved in sync with your own and your’s was hungry, exploring, and needy. The shyness you felt crept away, but it didn’t go too far, it was just silenced by the romantic exchange he was leading.

His lips were as soft as you were imagined, and he tasted like honey and coffee. You pressed the crook of your elbow against the back of his neck and let a sultry moan fall from your lips in approval. Every brush of his fingers against your spine and feel of his tongue gliding against your own, sent sparks of electricity jolting throughout your body.

You still didn’t understand why he was kissing you, but was there really a point in questioning it? Maybe he was just grateful. Maybe he’d been hit so hard in the face he thought this was the right thing to do? And maybe, you hoped it was for this reason, the incident had helped you both find the confidence to grow suddenly closer. You were careful not to let your nose bump his or your hands to stray too far in fear of hitting an injury. What this meant and how far this would go didn’t cross your mind though, because in this moment there was only him and those sweet tasting lips of his.

———————————————————————

Tag List: @saved-fanfiction @thephuonganh @theaamberr @innerpaperexpertcloud @darklydeliciousdesires @thebeckyjolene @mollybegger-blog @travelingmypassion @caffinated-tree @tcmhollnd @br0ck-eddie @ellar21 @advictedtohim @river-rain-water @crldrr2 @louloudeug99

A/N: This is my first fic in almost a year so please bear with me🖤 ( ALSO NOT MY GIFS ) also it’s been soooo long since I’ve uploaded, I can’t remember how to do a ‘keep reading’ on mobile, so please message me and let me know how!!

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

A/N: This is dedicated to @lunarthoughts​ who showed me this movie for the first time and got me hooked on Tom Hardy. I love you, friend. :) also tagging @clydesducktape since it’s Writer Wednesday! ❤️

Pairing: Forrest Bondurant x F! Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, pregnancy, fluff.

New Beginnings

The house was quiet. You sat in the hallway, the old wooden chair creaked with each push of your feet off the dusty floor. Every couple of minutes, out in the woods you’d see the swing of the lantern, the shadow of a gun. This was too close of a chance. 

You hear a deep groan from inside the room and stand opening the door, “Forrest?” you call out, “you alright in there?” He groans again, and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. You grab a match and light the lantern beside the bed, hoping he won’t see the trail of tears down your cheek. 

“Why you cryin’? his voice is hoarse and deep, nothing slips by him. 

“Nothin’,” you grab the cup of water of the nightstand, “you thirsty?” He lifts a hand and pushes the cup away, water sloshing over the side and spilling. 

“Ain’t nothin’,” he groans, trying to sit up against the pillows. 

“Don’t move,” you huff, standing to push the pillows against the headboard, your protests falling on deaf ears. “Stubborn, son of a bitch,” you mumble sitting down, and pulling the covers back up to his chest. The bandages are stark white against the dark quilt, a reminder of what you almost lost. 

“Why are you cryin’?” his beefy hand raises to cup your cheek and you hold his wrist, leaning into his touch. His thumb moves over your cheek, swiping the tears away. “These better not be for me.” 

“Of course, they’re for you. Do you know how many times I almost lost you?” you stand up pacing. “First you get your throat cut, then you get shot! I don’t know if my heart can take much more.” You walk over to the window and look out, the swinging lantern, and shadow of a gun visible through the trees. “You’re still not safe, Forest, we have armed men outside the window. You don’t know how many damn officers are going to come from Chicago for retribution!” 

“Darlin’,” he reaches for you but you keep just out of his reach. 

“No, Forrest, we are out here in the middle of nowhere! I just want to go home, and be with you, alive. The only thing you are allowed to die from is old age. No more alcohol, shootouts, none of that shit.” 

“Alright, then,” he mumbles, and you turn with a raise of your brow. 

“What?” 

“I said, alright.” He turns to look at you, a grimace of his face from the movement and you quickly move to his side, taking up his hand. “I’ll stop, just run the station, keep the books like I always done.” 

The man you love is few of many words, and you stand there shocked, when he continues, “I got a plan. I’m gonna pass the business over to the boys and cut my hands clean. I’m gonna marry you, and have lots of them babies your always fussin’ over.” 

You tense and he holds your hand a little tighter, “what’s the matter? You don’t wanna marry me? Or was it the babies part? I don’t give a damn either way, I just want you.” You swallow, looking away, his hand moves to your chin and turns you back to look at him, “Tell me.” 

“Well, we might be already ahead of schedule on that last part of your plan.” 

You can see the wheels turning in his head, the light flickering before it ultimately clicks on, “your pregnant?”

You nod, the tears spilling down your cheeks again, “yeah.”

He sits up faster than you knew was possible, the bandages straining against his chest and abdomen. He cups the back of your head and kisses you harshly, his tongue tangling with yours, and his groans filling the room. You lose track of time before he is pulling back to press his forehead against yours. “A baby,” he gasps out, “how long have you known?”

“Between the throat cutting and the shooting.” His frown deepens, “I didn’t want to add anything more to your plate. You’ve been stressed enough.”

“Still should’a told me,” he grumbles like an old bear, “but I understand.”

“Are…are you happy?”

“Yes,” he raises his head to gaze at you, the same expression on his face. But just in the corner of his eye is a pool of moisture that leaks a slow trail down his cheek. “We’re having a baby,” he mumbles, pulling you down into the bed beside him.

“We’re having a baby,” you whisper back, trying not to jostle his wounds to much.

“How does tomorrow evening sound for a wedding?” You pull back and look at him with a brow raised, the corner of his lips turning up into a smile.

“That sounds fine to me,” you grin, “mighty fine to me.”

[sheerfreesia007]

Fake Dating Headcannon

Mitch - The room is loud as patrons all line the bar calling out to the busy bartenders trying to get their attention to relay their drink orders. Mitch sits at the far corner of the bar as far from the crowd as he possibly could get and sips on his beer slowly. His eyes are darting around the room looking for unknown threats that could ruin his Friday night plans. Thankfully there are none that he can see but his body instantly tenses as another body brushes up against his. Soft full lips graze against his ear as words are whispered to him. “I’m so sorry to do this to you but could you do me a solid and pretend to be my boyfriend for a few hours?” Mitch turns his head to look at you and his eyes quickly dart around your pretty face. Your eyes are silently pleading with him and he hums softly and leans forward to press a soft sweet chaste kiss to your mouth. You gasp inaudible against his mouth at his action but then you seem to melt against him slowly. Your hand comes up to rest against his chest and he almost growls at the feeling of your nails curling against his chest. When he pulls away your eyelids flutter open and your sparkling dazed eyes gaze up at him. “Who’s bothering you, so I know who to keep an eye on.” He questions softly to you as his eyes dart around the room surveying it. “Guy in the blue and yellow plaid with the brown puff vest over it.” You relay easily and his eyes narrow in on the man, he’s larger than Mitch but Mitch knows he can take him if he needs to. Mitch widens his knees and scoots the stool further back before he guides you to stand between his body and the bar. His arms loosely cage you in protectively. “This okay?” He asks softly and you nod your head at him as your fingers dance up and down his chest idly. “Yeah I’m sorry to have to ask you this. But you were the only single looking guy here and I’ve seen you here before so I felt it was a good bet you’d be able to help me.” You explain softly and he shakes his head at you silently. “Don’t apologize. I just feel bad that you’ve had to go to these lengths to get away from a guy.” Mitch easily dismisses your explanation. “Guys need to learn some manners when it comes to pretty women.” He watches as you flush under his appraisal and he smirks softly at you before leaning forward and pressing another kiss to your mouth. This one quickly heats up and when he tries to pull away to get some air your hand comes up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him back in quickly. He grunts softly against your lips and finds that he’s rather glad you chose him to protect you if this is how it’s going to go.

Marcus - Marcus was standing in the back of the elevator waiting as the rest of the FBI employees all loaded on. He smiled when he spotted you, you didn’t work in his department but he knew you worked up by his floor because you two often rode the elevator together and he would always get off before you did so worked on one of the floors above his. As you moved to the back of the elevator you grinned at him and held up a cup of coffee towards him. He furrowed his eyebrows at you and tilted his head with a soft confused smile. “What’s this?” He asked softly as he took the cup of coffee with a kind smile. “Just a little bribe before I proposition you.” You say with a wiggle of your eyebrows. Marcus chokes on the sip of coffee that he had just taken and you laugh brightly at his response. “Not like that Marcus, get your head out of the gutter.” You said as you laughed softly. He blushed brightly as you leaned back against the wall of the elevator. He watched silently as your eyes darted to the other riders in the elevator before turning to him slightly. “My sister is getting married in a month and I need a someone to come with me.” You said softly avoiding eye contact with him. Marcus smiled softly feeling proud that you had chosen him to ask. “If it’s not your thing then don’t worry about it. You have no obligation to go or do me this favor. And my family is a little crazy when it comes to relationships in the family. Hell they’ve been bugging me to get a boyfriend for years now, so they’ll be extra crazy if you come with me. You know what? Nev-“ you were rambling and Marcus found it absolutely adorable that you were rambling about this. But he took pity on you and spoke up. “I’d be honored to be your date for the wedding. I mean you did buy me coffee.” He teased softly and your head snapped up to look at him so quickly he worried you might have whiplash for a second. “But I have one condition.” He cautioned you. “Anything. You’re doing me such a huge favor as it is.” You gushed out gratefully. “Let me take you on an actual date before the wedding.” He said softly and watched as your eyes widened softly and a bright happy smile fell across your lips. “Really? You wanna take me on a date?” You asked in awe and Marcus smiled warmly down at you. “Have wanted to for months now. Ever since the first elevator ride up.” He confessed softly and your grin widened even more shockingly. “I would love to.” You said in a hushed breath. “Then it’s a date.” Marcus confirmed with his own soft smile directed at you.

Francisco - Lively music is playing from the jukebox in the corner of the bar as you burst through the door, your eyes darting around the room wildly trying to find the men who would normally be found in the establishment on a Friday night. When you heard the loud raucous laughter of the group your eyes instantly followed and you sighed in relief as you quickly made your way over towards them. “Hey there Sunshine! How are you?” Benny called out happily as he saw you approach the table they were sitting at. “Hey Sunshine!” Pope greeted you happy to see you and Ironhead and Catfish both nodded at you in greeting. “Hey guys.” You sighed at tiredly as you sat in the empty chair at the table. “Everything alright?” Ironhead asked with a raised eyebrow and you shook your head. “No, it’s my grandma again.” You lamented softly and all four of the men nodded their heads in knowing, they had all met your grandmother at one point or another in your friendship with the group and they knew how much she stressed you out. “What’d she do this time?” Benny asked as he took a swig of his beer. You tilted your head from side to side as you grimaced in embarrassment. “More like what I did this time?” You questioned gritting your teeth slightly. All four pairs of eyes snapped to you and then all match slow grins formed on their faces. “Tell me you finally told her off.” Pope said in a hushed tone as he looked at you with wide hopeful eyes. “I did, but I also shot myself in the foot.” You said as you ducked your head. “What do you mean Mija?” Catfish asked softly as he sat leaned back in his chair watching you quietly. “She was being a brat and kept nagging me about getting a boyfriend and no matter what I told her that I wasn’t looking for one she wouldn’t let up. So I told her she was being an asshole and overbearing and that I already had a boyfriend and was keeping him a secret because of the way she acts like this.” You explained all in a rush. It was quiet for a few moments before laughter rang out around the table from the men. Pope was cackling and slapping his knee while Benny was howling with amusement, Will was chuckling softly as he shook head and Catfish just stared at you with an awed look and a soft smile. “So where’s this boyfriend?” Benny teased as he finally stopped howling. You grimaced and shook your head. “It was a spur of the moment thing I don’t actually have a boyfriend and now she’s expecting the imaginary man to show up to the next family party this weekend coming up.” You lamented and rested your head onto the table with a huff. Pope laughed happily and you turned your head to him. “I’m so glad you find joy in my misery asshole.” You snipped out. “I don’t I just find this to be perfect timing. Fish doesn’t have Rosalita this weekend coming up so he’s free and available to play pretend with you.” Pope said excitedly. “Pope!” Snapped Catfish as the other two men grumbled in positive tones. Your head snapped up and turned to Catfish with hopeful eyes. “Really? Would you be okay with that? You’d only have to endure my family for one night with me and then I could make up some excuse for us to break up so she’d get off my back.” You began saying excitedly. “Mija.” Catfish said softly as he groaned and rolled his head on his neck. You turned your head to him and felt your hopes plummet at the look on his face. Sighing dejectedly you shook your head. “Don’t worry about it ‘Fish. It was a stupid idea.” You said softly and sat back in your chair as you crossed your arms over your chest. The table grew quiet and you felt embarrassment heat your face before you stood from the table. “I’m gonna head out guys I’ll see ya around.” You said in farewell to the men who only grunted and grumbled in response to you. As you made your way out to the parking lot you grumbled to yourself about how stupid of an idea it was that Catfish would be willing to pretend to be your boyfriend for one night. You had hoped that maybe he returned at least some of the feelings that you had for him but unfortunately it seemed that he didn’t. Just as you came to your car you unlocked and began opening the door only for it to be shut by someone’s large hand coming down from behind you. You turned quickly and saw Catfish standing close to you. “I don’t want to play pretend.” He said in a rush and you rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah I got the memo loud and clear when we were inside.” You griped to him and he huffed at you. “No, I mean I want it to be real if I’m going to be your boyfriend.” He said lowly and you stared up at him in shock. “Are you being serious?” You asked softly and he nodded his head. You surged forward and pressed your lips to his, making him grunt softly and slowly return the kiss.

Stiles - You were standing in line at the movie theater waiting to buy popcorn and your drinks, not to mention you would have to pick up a package of m&m’s for Stiles since that boy couldn’t go through one movie without them. Suddenly you feel a presence behind you and whirl around quickly almost losing your balance as you gaze into Stiles’ shocked eyes. “Hey.” You greet and smile warmly at him and he returns the smile before looking over his shoulder. Your eyes dart over his shoulder and see Scott with his date Rachel over by the doors. “Hey so listen Scott needs us to pretend to be dating because he thinks it would be weird if his date found out he brought his two best friends on their date with him.” Stiles explained quickly as Scott and Rachel began walking over to the two of you. “Well yeah because it is kinda weird. I mean we told him that.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders. You didn’t want to pretend to be dating Stiles and you were trying to avoid it all costs, because you wanted to actually be dating Stiles. You had had a crush on the boy for so long it was starting to become pathetic how lovesick you were for him. Just then Stiles stepped closer to you until your chests were almost brushing and his hand slid around your waist tugging you even closer to him. Your hands came up to his chest to catch yourself before you fell completely into his body as you stared up at him. Rolling your eyes you huffed at him as he grinned gazing down at you. “Smooth Stilinski.” You tease him and watch as his grin widens and his cheeks flush with a pink hue. “I’m a smooth operator.” He says confidently and you burst out laughing at his horrible line. “Oh god I’m dating a dork with horrible puns.” You moan out and he grins as he chuckles happily. His head tilts downward and his nose nuzzles behind your ear. You suck in a sharp breath at his movement and your body just melts into his. “I wish this wasn’t pretend and that we were actually dating.” He whispers softly almost inaudible but you heard him. “Me too.” You whisper softly and then your head jerks back and the two of you stare wide eyed at each other as you both process what you had confessed. Suddenly the two of you lunge at each other and it’s all a mess of wet kisses and flailing limbs as you collide. “Hey….guys?” Comes Scott’s unsure statement from next to you and Stiles pulls back violently gasping for air. “Scotty the two of us need to leave. Yeah, we need to leave. Have fun on your date.” Stiles rushes out quickly as he grips your hand firmly in his and drags you out of the movie theater. “Bye Scott! Bye Rachel!” You call out over your shoulder as you wave at them.

Tequila - Sadie Hawkins. You sigh softly as you read the text message from Tequila. “Everything alright?” Nick asks as he leans on the bar top smiling softly at you with a raised eyebrow. “Gotta go save Tequila again.” You tell him as you take another swig of your beer. “So who’s it gonna be tonight? Scorned girlfriend or tattling best friend?” He asks amused as he shakes his head. “Does it matter? The results are all the same.” You say with a shrug. Your eyes dart over to where Tequila sits with a pretty brunette and you sigh softly. “You know maybe you should tell him how you feel maybe then all of this would stop.” He suggested and you shook your head at him. “I’m just the friend who bails him out of bad dates.” You tell him and smile tight lipped. Standing from the stool you begin to walk over to Tequila and the brunette. When Tequila spots you he gives you a relieved look before his eyes widen comically. “Oh shit.” You hear him say softly and the brunette begins to turn towards you. “Baby?!” You cry loudly as you begin to glower at Tequila. Well tonight was gonna be scorned girlfriend. Pursing your lips you cross your arms over your chest and stand defensively between Tequila and the brunette. “Baby, I thought you said you were gonna be late at the office.” You accused Tequila with a pout. You could see the brunette starting to fidget on her stool as she watched you glare at Tequila. “Honey I-“ Tequila began to try to explain but you cut him off. “And who’s this?” You asked as your eyes swung to the brunette. She grimaced softly and stood quickly from her stool. “I’m so sorry he asked me out on a date tonight and I didn’t know he was in a relationship.” She rushed out embarrassed and you felt bad that you were putting her through this all because Tequila didn’t like something about her. Your body suddenly felt exhausted at playing this charade with him. “I have to go.” She said hurriedly before rushing out of the bar. “You are a life saver.” Tequila gushed out as he chuckled softly to himself. “Tequila I’m tired of doing this. Find someone else to play your fake girlfriend I’m not doing this anymore.” You said with finality and moved to the bar and signaled Nick over so you could pay your tab and go home. You were just so tired all of a sudden. “What do you mean? What am I gonna do without my best fake girlfriend?” He asked as he looked over at you with a peculiar look on his face. You shook your head at him. “I’m tired of lying to these women that you find fault with. Don’t you get tired of it?” You asked incredulously. He shook his head in response. “Not really I mean it stinks that they aren’t what I’m looking for but that’s part of the dating world.” Tequila answers. “Well part of the dating world is being honest with your dates. I’m done Tequila you’re gonna have to figure it out on your own from now on.” You said before turning towards Nick. “I wanna close out my tab Nick.” You said as you pulled your wallet out from your back pocket. “Don’t worry about it I gotcha covered.” Nick said softly and waved his hand at you. You looked at him silently for a moment and then nodded your head. “Thanks. I’ll see you guys later.” You said with a wave and turned to leave. “So that’s it we’re just done?” Tequila asked from behind you and you turned to look at him. “I told you I’m tired of lying Tequila. Find someone else to lie for you.” You responded dejectedly and then turned and walked out quickly.

Whiskey - The room was too crowded. So crowded that it was almost impossible to move about the room. And Whiskey needed to move if he was going to catch his target at any chance. Just as he stepped to the side around a portly older man a woman stepped in his path and fluttered her eyelashes at him. She was tall and slender in a floor length red silky dress, a pretty face with red painted lips and  long cascading black hair. She was gorgeous and she knew it if the look in her eye was anything to go by. Whiskey sighed softly as his eyes darted over her shoulder to the target he was tailing. “Excuse me Ma’am.” He said softly as he ducked his head and tried to step around her. Her hand shot out to his forearm and kept him in place. “You’re new I haven’t ever met you before.” She simpered to him and fluttered her eyelashes at him again. He smiled tightly at her and looked back to the target to only seem him slipping through the far door at the side of the room. “I don’t-“ he began to explain as he huffed softly but was cut off by a lilting voice. “Hannah, leave the poor man alone he’s just trying to get across the room.” You chastised the woman softly as you stepped up to the two of them. Whiskey turned to gaze at you and had to tilt his head downward to get a look at you, you were a short little thing. You smiled kindly up at him and hooked your arm through his elbow. “C’mon sweetheart, I’ll get you to where you’re goin’.” You said softly and began to lead him through the crowd weaving around people like you were spineless and all he could do was be pulled along with you. When you exited the crowd and he found himself standing in front of the door that the target had escaped through not more than five minutes ago he turned back to you. “Thank you.” He said warmly and full of relief. “No problem sweetheart.” You said with a bright smile and wink sent his way. You began to turn from him and he reached out gently for your hand. When he gripped it you looked over your shoulder at him in confusion. “I’d like to repay you.” He said turning on the charm for you with a knowing smile. You laughed delighted and shook your head at him. “No need. I come to these things so often I could navigate them with my eyes closed.” You said dismissively and waved your hand in the air. Whiskey stepped closer and you looked up at him with a teasing smirk on your face. “But if you insist. What do you propose?” You asked softly still smirking at him. “Dinner at my favorite little hole in the wall and an evening walk around the park not far from it.” He suggested. He watched as you silently contemplated his offer and then a grin lit up your face and he felt his breath was stolen from him. “Alright sweetheart. Come find me later when you’re done with whatever and I’ll give you my number.” You told him and he nodded eagerly. Then you slipped into the crowd again and Whiskey lost sight of you. He smiled softly to himself as he turned to the door and quickly slipped through it getting back to the mission but you’d be on his mind the whole time.

Raymond - The twinkling sound of glasses hitting each other and light chatter filled the ornately decorated room. You felt slightly uneasy at all the extravagantly dressed people in the room and you shifted on your feet clad in small kitten heels. You raised the glass filled with rum and coke to your lips and took a small sip. “There you are darling.” Rosalyn said as she stepped over to you with Mickey following close behind her. You smiled brightly and nodded your head at her. “Have you been hiding away over here in the corner all night?” She asked in a teasing lilt and you smiled, shaking your head at her. “No, I played the part of professional business woman and made connections but I was just taking a breather. It’s a bit stuffy in here.” You said with ambiguity as your eyes followed a man who held his nose up as he walked past you. Mickey’s bark of laughter pulled your attention to him and he grinned wickedly at you as he wrapped an arm loosely around Rosalyn’s waist. “I like her. She calls it like it is. No wonder you hired her on.” He said with warm fondness as his eyes peered at you knowingly. “I was wondering if either of you had seen Ray? I lost him earlier in the crowd and haven’t been able to find him since.” You said with slight concern tinging your voice as your eyes darted around the room looking for the man. “Is that the only reason you’re looking for him love?” Rosalyn asked smirking at you knowingly. “How times have I told you to stop playing match maker Ros?” You asked exasperated with her intentions. “Oh really now?” Mickey asked in a soft awed voice as he gazed at you more scrutinizingly. “I could see it.” He said after a moment and you scowled softly at him. “Don’t encourage her. Soon she’ll start planning our wedding and Ray won’t have a clue.” You lamented to him softly and he laughed amused. “Actually you may have to go save him love.” Rosalyn said with a twinkle in her eye as she gazed at something behind you. You turned to see what she was talking about and almost burst out laughing at the sight. Raymond stood there uncomfortably stiff as a woman brushed her hands up and down his suit clad body. You watched as Ray leaned back away from the woman with a slight sneer on his face and his darted around the room for any type of assistance. “Go save ‘em love. He needs you.” Rosalyn encouraged softly from behind and you scoffed at her. “This doesn’t mean anything.” You said over your shoulder and felt her pat your shoulder lightly. You then took off across the room to save Ray from the woman who couldn’t take a hint. You watched as Ray’s eyes landed on you over the woman’s shoulder and watched as his body seemed to deflate with relief as you moved up to his side. The woman had finally stopped touching Ray and you could see that his body was relaxing further. You smiled up at him as he looked down at you. “Hello love.” He said warmly to you in that deep baritone voice of his. “Hello Ray.” You responded kindly as you sidled up to him resting your hand on his bicep feeling his muscle flex through the material of his tuxedo. You watched as something changed in his eyes as he gazed at you and suddenly he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours making you gasp softly. He turned his body towards yours and his hand came up to cup your cheek. “Atta boy Ray!” Came Mickey’s shout from somewhere in the room and the two of your pulled away grinning widely.

Forrest - It was busy in the station tonight as you worked behind the bar and cleaned up as the hours passed. Most of the locals knew you and they knew that the Bondurant boys looked out for you, but it was those few out of town ones who tried to overstep the boundaries. As you were walking back from clearing away one of the tables you held the dirty dishes in your arms as you moved past the men sitting at the bar. Suddenly a sharp sting blooms on your backside and you whirl around in shock. Two men that you haven’t seen before in the station are snickering at your response and you scowl softly at them as you move closely behind Howard’s back to get behind the bar. Howard’s eyes trail you and you connect your eyes with his only to shake your head not wanting to cause a problem tonight. He nods his head slightly and you get back to refilling drink and food orders from the patrons. It isn’t until another hour has passed that the same two men start talking about you in rather vulgar terms and it’s starting to make you uncomfortable. Your whole body jolts when the loud sound of Forrest’s office door slamming shut catches your attention. Your eyes dart to him as he moves slowly through the room over to the two men who have been giving you a hard time. “Is there a problem here?” He grunts out to the men and they look over their shoulders at him. “No problem at all.” One of them answers and you watched as Forrest leaned closer to the men. “You leave her alone or you’ll have to deal with me.” Forrest threatened quietly to them and your eyes widened slightly at his words. You knew the Bondurants cared for you but you had never thought that Forrest would threaten someone in your honor. Then Forrest was moving around the bar to stand behind it with you as he moved to start wiping down the bar as you got to the orders that came in. “So what, is she your gal then?” Sneered one of the men and you avoided making eye contact with anyone as you continued pouring drinks for the other patrons, but you could see Forrest still in movement out of the corner of your eye. He stilled with his hand holding the wash rag against the bar top and stared at the man in silent shock. “Yeah, that’s his gal. So better leaver her be.” Howard said suddenly causing everyone to turn and look at him. He smirked softly as his eyes landed on you and saw the heated blush gracing your face.

[fightmewiatch]

No 18 Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room. With Forrest Bondurant if you don't mind. I'm excited 😄

          Forrest was a man of few words, and even fewer facial expressions. Not that it mattered, you’d worked with him and his brothers long enough that even the shift of his eyes told you enough. You didn’t mind working behind the bar, most of the men that came in didn’t care about anything but getting a drink and being on their way.

          Bad men happened. It was a part of life. You’d had men pull a gun on you, grab you, throw their drink at you. You barely needed to say anything, before Forrest was dragging them out, sometimes Howard helping, if he were there...and sober. But with as rare as they were, Forrest and the boys were always keeping an eye out, making sure you were safe, regardless.

          Some nights, the place was more crowded - each table full, each seat at the bar taken, men even sitting near the steps, laughing and shouting at each other over their drink. Those were the nights you liked best. Forrest worked in the back corner, tucked away from everyone, leaving the rest of the room to you and Cricket. 

          The men at the bar were loud tonight, talking over each other, to people sitting three, four seats away. You asked them to quiet down, just a little - the sudden shouting startled you, and seeing as you were handling knives behind the bar, you knew it was best to not be startled. But they were drunk, and you knew that meant they were dumb, at least for the night. 

          When they shouted again, sounding a little angrier than before, you looked towards them, only to realize they were talking about some baseball game. It wasn’t anger, it was frustration, and you sighed, glad for it. 

          With a glance around the room, you paused, spotting Forrest watching from the doorway. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his sweater, but he stared at you, only giving a flick of his eye towards the men. The room was crowded, buzzing with voices and laughter, he was checking on you like this, staying back while asking with a look. 

          Your smile was soft, and you shrugged, before holding up a glass, a silent question of your own. 

          You treasured each and every smile that Forrest gave you, with how few they really were, and the one he gave you then, barely there but just enough it made you blush, and fill the glass, moving across the room to slip the glass into his fingers. 

          His eyes met yours, tired but warm, as he accepted it, sipping the drink slowly. Your smile was bigger, this time, as you touched his arm, something most people never dared do, before you headed back to the bar. In the mirror, you saw his lips tick up a bit more around the lip of the glass, but he didn’t say anything, simply disappeared back into his office, as you giggled to yourself, and went back to work.

          Forrest didn’t talk much, not if he didn’t have to. But you’d learned to read him, to hear him in the silence. And you’d learn to communicate the same way in return. 

[mlmxreader]

Bend and Snap | Forrest Bondurant x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Forrest Bondurant Hey 🖤!! Okay I can't remember which of these two I just sent so I humbly request the one that wasn't in the last one. May I please ask for a work using the following prompts for Forrest Bondurant X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Do not let me die here" OR "Just close your eyes, it's alright" Thank you 🖤! 🐍anon

summary: you're teasing him so constantly, it's no wonder Forrest finally snaps.

tws: swearing, flirtatious gestures

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Forrest clenched his jaw tightly, eyes narrowed and his gaze intense as he tried to control his breathing, his fists clenched at his sides to the point where his knuckles were white as he watched the scene before him unfold; he wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were doing when you conveniently dropped your pen and then turned from him at a decent angle, bending over all too dramatically and staying like that for a moment while you pretended to look for your pen before you grabbed it and snapped back up, tilting your head to the side so that the dying sunlight caught your eyes and made them glitter.

Forrest knew what you were doing. He wasn’t stupid. You always put on a show, just for him, and quite frankly, he was sick of it; your constant teasing, constantly pushing him further and further to breaking point. He licked his lips, trying to push down every urge as he leaned back in his chair and twiddled with a loose string on his cardigan in hopes that it would distract him from you and from how your trousers were far too tight in all the right places.

Your backside, your thighs, fuck, how had nobody had the bright idea of making you theirs yet?

He took a sharp breath, trying to regain at least a little bit of his composure and act as if he wasn’t boiling under the collar of his shirt as he tore his gaze from you, pretending that he was looking at the newspaper on the table next to him the entire time when you turned back to look at him; he could see you look so fucking disappointed from the corner of his eye, and although he hated it, he couldn’t have you knowing that he had been looking.

That he thought you were the most stunning person in the world he had ever met and how he would have been proud to introduce himself as your significant other, your lover, whatever you wanted him to be. That he often stayed up late at night haunted by the fact that he could never ask you on a date or to go for a walk with him at night just the two of you, that he could never ask you to do anything with him for fear that it would put you in danger and it would shake the foundations of the bootlegging deal that you had together.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head before he cleared his throat and finally looked at you. 

“Good morning,” you beamed, raising your brows slightly like you were oh so fucking pleased to see him. Like it made you overjoyed to even be in the same room together. “You sleep okay? You seem a little… I dunno, down?”

Forrest shrugged, placing the pad of his thumb against his nose and using the side of his index finger to scratch the other side. “Fine. Thank you.”

“Coffee?” You offered, hopeful and eager like a playful dog with a bone.

Forrest could only bring himself to nod as he watched you walk away; he couldn’t help thinking it, but as much as he hated the fact that you left, he did quite like to watch you walk away from him. He knew you got your trousers tailored to be tighter in certain areas, he knew you did it just to put on a show for him.

Didn’t mean that he liked being teased, though; he couldn’t take it anymore, following you into the kitchen. Forrest was always a man of action, and it was no different this time as he pinned you against the counter, his hands on your sides as he glared into your eyes like he was trying to see through your soul and into whatever could have possibly been hidden beneath. He was about to speak when you put your hand on his jaw, and pulled him in for a kiss.

He was stunned for a second, but soon enough kissed back before you had the chance to break it and regret your actions; you smiled, melting against him and letting your other hand rest on the back of his neck to keep him so fucking close. Forrest grumbled under his breath, pulling away and nodding. 

“Oh, come on,” you grinned. “You’re still not gonna admit that you’ve been checking me out?”

He blushed, eyes going slightly wide as his breath hitched in his throat. “That obvious?”

“Clearly,” you chuckled, shaking your head with great fondness. “I wasn’t exactly being subtle either… did you notice the tailoring?”

Forrest nodded slowly, growling under his breath for a second. Letting his hand slip down, pretending to follow the refined and excellent stitching until his palm rested firmly against your ass. He nodded again, as if that was enough admittance.

But you knew Forrest well, and dared to steal another kiss as you hummed softly. “You can look, you can touch, you can do whatever you want.”

He hummed back, licking his lips; you could see the cogs turning in his head, the different thoughts pounding across the grooves and ridges of his brain like stampeding wild horses. Their hooves pounding away and creating such a loud, thunderous roar that little else could be focused on; his gaze became hazy, unfocused as he got sucked into the thunder of a thousand hooves.

He was only pulled back when he felt your lips on his neck. “I’m all yours, Mister Bondurant, whatever you want from me, you can take it. Only you.”

Forrest swallowed thickly, grasping your chin with his forefinger and thumb as he forced you to hold his gaze as he smiled, his voice quiet and gruff, a large cat prowling on gravel and making the stones crunch. “I want to kiss you again.”

“Then do it,” you told him with a shake of your head. “I’m all yours.”

“Just close your eyes, it’s alright, I won’t hurt you,” Forrest told you with a mumble. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. I just want to kiss you.”

“Forrest,” you whispered. “I trust you. You don’t have to reassure me. If you wanna kiss me, then just fucking do it before I get cross.”

He smiled at that, nodding to himself for a moment. “Alright.”

[angel-inked]

The Wolf Charmer, Chapter 26: Love is the best medicine

Another WIP Wednesday is upon us!!!

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @thedevilshardy @mollybegger-blog @wandawiccan60 @cameleonhardyfan63 @inkwolvesandcoffee @liliac-dreamer @potter-solomons

"Nobody else has any injuries?" Rose asked, looking between Danny and Jack. Jack shook his head, "Nothing major that needs any treatment." He explained. "Good," Rose nodded. "You boys can fight well, including you, Danny." She added. Danny nodded along with a smile. "Speaking of which, I need to track down Banner." Forrest mumbled, as if the thought irritated him, likely cause he wanted to stay where he was pressed against Rose, not having to think of the inevitable. "About?" Howard questioned, not expecting an answer. "Bloodlines, I'm wondering if I'm the reason Danny shot lighting out of his tail." Forrest clarified quietly. Howard nodded along like he was keeping up, though his features betrayed him by expressing his confusion. "If my hunch is right," Forrest started, "it often is." Howard interrupted with a grin. Forrest narrowed his eyes and grunted, slightly annoyed with Howard's inability to keep his mouth shut. "If my hunch is right, then Danny does have some form of blood connection to us because I'm the one who turned him." Forrest explained. Danny shrunk in on himself a little as everyone turned their attention to him, Howard's face fell some at his best friend's out of character apprehension. "Don't worry about it, Daniel." Howard said softly, moving to pat Danny on the shoulder. "The Bondurant brothers are the reason you're in this mess, and we're gonna be the reason you come out on the side of it." Howard smiled, his way of being comforting. Danny returned the smile, "Thanks, Howie." He said, giving Howard a hug. Forrest cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the pair as they pulled apart. "It's a good thing you two are best friends, 'cause I don't think your mothers could've handled you as twins." Forrest said with a teasing tone, making Howard grin. Danny's always been grouped with them as the unofficial forth brother. "You and Jack are just as bad!" Danny quipped. Howard chuckled happily, listening to the same exchange they've had multiple times before. He was becoming increasingly more glad Forrest had been the one to turn Danny, as the only thought that Howard kept coming back to was that he wouldn't have had the stomach to.

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

Hi girl I hope your feeling well today and can you these 140. “Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”138. “How are you this perfect?”110. “is that a drawing of me?” For Forrest Bondurent please thank you!!!🥰😊😀

"Hey sweetheart." You called out to Forrest, walking out of the station after a long shift. He sat on the porch with a journal in hand. He snapped it shut upon your arrival and dropped it by accident, the journal sliding across the ground. You picked it up and handed it back, a small piece of paper falling by your feet as you did so. You looked down and smiled.

"Is that a drawing of me?" You questioned. Forrest's face flushed pink.

"You weren't supposed to see 'at" He grumbled, grabbing the sheet of paper off the ground and shoving it in his cardigan pocket.

"Is that what you're doin' out here all day? Drawin' me?" You teased. He grumbled and looked away. You walked up to his walking chair and turned his head to look at you, removing his hat while you were at it.

"How are you this perfect?" You questioned. His face flushed again and you smiled.

"I ain't perfect. Definitely ain't a man that deserves someone like you." He grumbled.

"Forrest, would you just shut up and kiss me already? You sure know how to keep a woman waiting." You complained, moving in closer. Forrest reciprocated, leaning upwards and connecting your lips.

The kiss was electric, lasting for a while until a voice called out.

"Hey Forrest! Care to fuck your employee's in the bathroom an' not out in public?" Howard's grating voice teased.

"Shut up, Howard."

[cinebration]

Open Requests *Last Day!*

Opening requests again! The deadline for submitting a request is Sunday, April 25th, 2021 at 5:00PM PST (1:00AM GMT on April 26th).

Rules

Send to my ask box! Please keep in mind that these requests are meant to be one-shot drabbles.

No smut. No pregnancy fics or A/B/O fics. No crossover fics. No actor x reader. All reader characters must be 18 or older. Other AUs acceptable.

Identify the gender of the reader if you want something other than female.

Because I try to remain as true to character as possible, I reserve the right to reject or tweak requests to keep the characters in character.

Below are character lists divided by actors.

Henry Cavill

Napoleon Solo, August Walker, Captain Syverson, Geralt of Rivia, Sherlock Holmes, Walter Marshall

Tom Hardy

Eames, Eddie Brock, Alfie Solomons, James Keziah Delaney, Bob (The Drop), Forrest Bondurant, Tuck, Tommy Conlon

Pedro Pascal

Din Djarin, Maxwell Lord, Ezra, Tovar

[mrsragucci]

Maybe you could try one with Forrest bondurant and you are secretly in love with him and work for him. You cut yourself on a glass you broke by accident. He tends to it, and is talking away when you lean in and kiss him.

“Ouch.” You immediately went and wrapped your finger with your hands. Forrest was on the other side, once he heard you wail, he approached you.

“You alright love? You need some help?” You shook your head no, but he continues to walk closer to you. “Forrest the others are watching.” You whispered sternly. He grabbed your hand anyways and pulls you towards the house.

The cozy place gave you so many feelings, Right now it was giving you security. Maybe it was just the fact that you were currently standing beside your secret lover. But you could also blame it on the house.

Forrest payed very close attention towards your finger and making sure it was okay. While the cut was only little. He still wanted it to be in the best condition. “You know you’ve gotta stop being such a cluts. You’ve been hurting yourself a lot lately.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grunted. “Yeah well you say that each and every time, but for the love of god I’m being serious. I hate to see you grt hurt, you look so vulnerable. You look so...unsafe.”

“You’re over looking this entire situation. It’s just a nip. Nothing wrong with that. “Yeah well there’s nothing wrong with it when it happens once, but when it-“

You pulled Forrest inwards towards you. Kissing him. You cut him off, something he never liked, but when since it was with a kiss, he wouldn’t mind.

“Shut up, will you.” You smiled at him,

And he smiled right back.

A/N: once again I’m sorry it took me so long. Their is currently a thunderstorm and I also have some other things that needed to be done. I hope you like it.

Send in some prompts for blurb night