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batboysanonymous · 2 days ago

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A Taste of Silence (Pt. II)

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhys's drunken words cut deeper than any blade, leaving Y/n questioning everything she thought she knew about their bond. As heartbreak and betrayal collide, she faces a choice that could shatter the fragile threads holding their world together.

Pt. I

Word Count: 1.5k

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Rhysand was drowning.

He had endured centuries of torment in Amarantha’s Court, faced death and destruction in ways that would have broken lesser males—but this? This was agony unlike anything he had ever known.

Because this wasn’t just losing her. This was being the cause of her pain.

The bond was still there, a heavy, throbbing weight tethered to his soul. It twisted and pulled at him, refusing to let him forget the raw betrayal in her eyes when she left. He couldn’t block it out. Couldn’t shut down the waves of anger and hurt radiating from her, nor the faint echo of her presence that haunted his every step.

He didn’t deserve to forget.

He followed her from a distance, staying just out of sight, knowing he had no right to approach her. She had retreated to a small, snow-laden village on the outskirts of his territory, a place so quiet and unassuming it seemed designed to swallow grief whole. Rhys respected her boundaries—at least, as much as he could while still ensuring she was safe.

The villagers had no idea their little haven was now fiercely guarded by shadows. Every night, he patrolled the perimeter, silent as death, ensuring no threat could come close. When a pack of feral beasts wandered too near, Rhys killed them before they could even scent the village. He cleaned up the blood and left no trace, unwilling to let her see the lengths he was going to for her protection.

She might hate him, but she was still his mate. And he would protect her, even if it tore him apart.

But even the small things he could do weren’t enough. Not when every second without her was a reminder of the chasm he’d created between them. The cold, empty nights stretched endlessly, the silence gnawing at his mind until he thought he might go mad.

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The third week after her departure, he broke.

He had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t intrude, and wouldn't push her until she was ready. But the bond burned unbearably that day, tugging at him with a force that felt like claws raking through his chest. He flew to her cabin before he could stop himself, landing with a muffled thud on the snow-packed ground.

She was outside, stacking firewood with her back to him. She froze when his boots crunched against the snow.

“Don’t,” she said without turning, her voice cold enough to make him falter.

“Please,” Rhys choked out, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t think—he just dropped to his knees. The snow soaked through his leathers, numbing his skin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“Please,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “Please, just listen to me. I—” His throat closed up, the words catching on the lump that had lodged itself there since the moment she left. He dragged a trembling hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his desperation. “I know I hurt you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I—Cauldron, I can’t live like this. I can’t live without you.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.

“You are everything to me,” he said, his voice raw. “Everything. And I hate myself for what I did, for the way I made you feel. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right, if you’ll let me. But if you can’t…” He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. “If you can’t, I’ll still do it. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy, even if it’s from afar. I don’t care what it costs me, as long as you’re okay.”

“How can I trust that the next time you’re drunk or angry, you won’t say something that cuts me to the bone?”

Her words hit like a dagger, sharp and precise. He bowed his head, his voice trembling as he replied, “I don’t deserve your trust, not after what I said. But I swear to you, I will never drink if it means risking your pain. I’ll stop entirely if you ask me to. Nothing—nothing—is worth losing you again.”

Her arms crossed, her shields firmly in place, though he caught the faintest waver in her expression. “And what happens the next time we fight, Rhys? What if you get angry? Will you throw my weaknesses in my face again?”

His head snapped up, anguish written across his features. “Never. I would never—” His voice broke. “You are not my weakness. You are my strength. And if I ever forget that, I want you to walk away and never look back. But I swear to you, Feyre, I will spend every day of my life proving to you that I’ve learned from this. That I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. He could feel her battling herself, the bond between them a swirling tempest of doubt and yearning.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he whispered, his knees sinking deeper into the snow. “I’ll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just tell me how to begin.”

The silence stretched taut between them, and Rhys didn’t dare move. Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but edged with steel. “Prove it.”

Her shields weren’t just up—they were fortified. But he didn’t need to feel the bond to see the war raging within her.

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The days that followed were a slow, painful process. Rhys didn’t push. He stayed near enough to be there if she needed him but far enough to give her space. He continued his quiet watch over the village, eliminating threats before she ever knew they existed. He left her gifts—small things he hoped might bring her comfort. A new brush when he saw her old one had broken. A scarf enchanted to keep her warm even in the bitterest winds. And a note with every gift: I’m still here. I always will be.

She started letting him stay for longer each time he visited. They didn’t talk much at first—just sat in heavy, charged silence. But gradually, the walls began to crack. She started asking him questions, small and tentative, and he answered with an honesty that left him vulnerable and bare.

The night she finally forgave him, it was snowing.

They were sitting by the fire, the soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room. Rhys’s voice was low and steady as he recounted the years he’d spent under the mountain. The rawness of the memories was evident in the way his hands clenched and unclenched, but he forced himself to speak, each word a step toward atonement.

Y/N sat across from him, silent, her gaze fixed on the flames. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, the movement restless and uncertain.

“You didn’t just hurt me,” she said at last, her voice trembling. “You betrayed me, Rhys. You made me feel small, like I didn’t matter.”

The words tore through him, but he didn’t flinch. He nodded, his throat tightening. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel that way again.”

She looked at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “How can I trust you not to run your mouth again? To not let some drink or situation make you careless with me?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shame crashing over him. “You can’t—not yet. But I’ll prove to you that you can. I’ll prove it every single day, Y/N.” His voice cracked, his chest heaving as he lowered himself to his knees before her.

“Please,” he begged, his hands trembling as he clasped hers. “Please, give me a chance to earn back your trust. I’ll never take another sip of wine if that’s what it takes. I’ll never let myself forget the weight of what I have to lose. You are everything to me.”

Her lip trembled as she stared at him, the rawness in his expression and the desperation in his voice cutting through her defenses. “I’m terrified, Rhys. Of trusting you again. Of getting hurt again.”

His thumbs brushed over her knuckles as he held her hands tightly, his head bowing. “I know. And if I ever break your trust again, I’ll deserve every ounce of that fear. I’ll deserve to lose you. But I won’t. I swear to you, Y/N, I won’t.”

The bond between them hummed faintly, like a whisper of what it once was, and it pulled at her even as she hesitated. She reached out, cupping his face with trembling fingers.

“You have one chance, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice heavy with both hope and caution. “One.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her palm to his lips. “I won’t waste it. I swear to you, I’ll never waste it.”

When she finally leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he could shield her from every hurt in the world—including himself. The bond sang louder, fuller, and in that moment, they began to mend what had been broken, piece by fragile piece.

#acotarxreader #angst #batboys x reader #slow burn #azriel x reader #tension #acotar #cassianxreader #night court #x reader

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red-doll-face · 1 day ago

Note

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad��it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

#red writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead redemption 2 x reader #high honor arthur morgan #high honor arthur morgan x reader #x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x fem reader

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fear-is-truth · 4 hours ago

Note

wow i love the way you write nam-gyu! would you mind writing his attempt to make things right if he was given a second chance in a relationship? I’m basing this off of your last post with him where you said if he was given a second chance he would at least genuinely try. Have a great day! ❤️

NAM-GYU ❝ TRYING ❞ TO BE A GOOD BOYFRIEND. . .

content — gn!reader ・nam-gyu is still toxic & overall a shitty boyfriend・headcanons

a/n — i love this horrid man.

he starts overcompensating in small, almost pitiful ways. buying you gifts you didn’t ask for, running errands he wouldn’t have done before, doing the dishes without being asked. it’s as though he thinks he can earn your forgiveness through sheer persistence.

and it works because the bar is so low to begin with, it’s practically a tripping hazard in hell.

he’s not above love-bombing if it means keeping you. but it’s not entirely manipulative—there’s a small part of him that genuinely believes he can be better, even if he doesn’t know what that looks like.

he doesn’t like when you talk about the breakup. he’ll deflect, change the subject, or turn it into a joke. the idea of revisiting that time makes him feel pathetic, and he absolutely hates that.

keeps asking you if you’re happy. the question comes out of nowhere—he needs constant reassurance, like your happiness is the only proof he has that he’s not screwing this up again.

no matter how much he wants to try and fix things, he can’t completely shake the bitterness. deep down, he hates being the one begging for forgiveness. sometimes it slips out in muttered comments or passive-aggressive digs when he feels like he’s not being appreciated enough for trying.

gets this haunted look when you mention any moment from the time you were apart. it doesn’t matter if it’s innocent or unrelated to him—he’ll start overthinking it. where were you? who were you with?

paranoid about losing you again, and it shows in the way he checks your phone, asks too many questions about where you’ve been, or sulks when you spend time with other people.

if you call him out, he’ll switch gears fast. nam-gyu knows exactly what to say to deflect blame or make you second-guess your own feelings. he’s silver-tongued in a way that makes you want to forgive him, even when you know you probably shouldn’t.

despite his efforts, nam-gyu has a habit of reverting to old patterns. he gets frustrated when things don’t improve immediately and lashes out verbally. but as soon as he sees your hurt expression, he’s quick to backtrack, softening his tone and apologising—but the authenticity is up for debate.

there are sporadic bursts of effort. maybe he remembers a small detail you mentioned in passing and surprises you with it, or he takes you somewhere meaningful to “start fresh.” these moments feel real because, for a fleeting second, they are. but they’re often short-lived, drowned out by his issues.

he tries to hold back when you fight, but sometimes he just slips. the venom comes out before he can stop it, and the second he sees your face fall, he’s begging for forgiveness. the cycle exhausts you both.

tries to make up for his outbursts with affection. his hands are always on you—your waist, your wrist, the back of your neck. sure it’s possessive, but there’s a desperation to it too, because he’s trying to prove he still has a right to touch you.

there’s a subtle change in the way he looks at you now. before, there was always the arrogance of knowing you’d stick around no matter what. now, he’s bracing himself for the moment you’ll tell him it’s over for good.

he convinces himself that as long as you’re still there, things can get better. even if he doesn’t fully believe in his own ability to change, he holds onto the idea that you believe in him. it’s a crutch, one that keeps him from truly taking accountability but also keeps him trying—and he is. but there’s also a part of him that still believes he can’t fully change, that this is just who he is, and it’s up to you to decide if you can live with it.

#namgyu #namgyu x reader #nam gyu #namgyu x y/n #player 124 #player 124 x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #squid game headcanons #namgyu headcanons #nam gyu x reader #namgyu fluff #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic

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sir-tater-of-the-tot · 3 days ago

Note

He wasn't the only one who could smell the pheromones, it was like a summoning call for all drones who were near. Each one buzzing over to see the queen in question and if the drone was good enough to keep his queen for another 3 to 4 years.

Lucifers eyes narrowed while he gripped Adams hips close, another drone was making their way over. Adam wasn't paying attention already being overtaken by lust and the need to produce eggs. Lucifer however was very much aware of the other drones, it was custom for them to flock to the queen so she could choose a new king or keep the one she had. It was all decided through gifts which meant Lucifer couldn't touch Adam till he had chosen him again. Lucifer however wasn't above killing the other drones to make Adams' decision easier.

Drone: why hello there my queen

Adam shifted to see who was calling him, he whimpered at the sight of the other drones. His legs could sense the arousal they all felt for him, his honey dripping down his legs.

Drone: my name is Alastor~ pleased to meet you

Adam frowned as Alastor took one of his hands and kissed it, Adam could feel Lucifer's death glare even without looking. Alastor however paid him no mind as he smiled up at Adam.

Alastor: my what beautiful eyes you have, I'm sure your drone is too hungry for sex to truly worship you my queen

Adam squeaked when Lucifer pulled him closer, a happy buzzing was radiating off of Adam. His mate was holding him close.

Lucifer: why don't you find a different queen to seduce this one is taken

Drone: oh don't be like that Luci you know damn well you got into this hive by pure luck

Lucifer grit his teeth: Michael

A blonde drone emerged from the group, he looked exactly like Lucifer maybe a few differences in coloring but they were practically twins. Adams insides twitched in interest, it was obvious his body had a type.

Michael: it's quite unfortunate that you have to compete against me for his snatch

Lucifer had left Adams side to get in Michael's face, they were chest to chest buzzing with anger. Since they had no stinger there was no fear of someone accidentally being stung.

Adam: what are they talking about Luci?

Adam was shifting his thighs he wanted to get back into bed and get fucked to next winter, he had no idea what was going on and if this was just normal.

Michael: oh he didn't fill you in, of course he wouldn't.

Lucifer glared at Michael then softened his look as he walked back up to Adam.

Lucifer: every time you enter your heat for your offspring, other drones sense your heat and come to court you. Even I have to try and court you once more.

Michael: yes and it starts now

Michael walked up to Adam and gifted him a flower, it was beautiful and it smelt amazing all the drones watched and smelt how Adams pheromones grew stronger. A smirk lined Michaels face while he turned his gaze back towards Lucifer. Lucifer however planned for this and got some of Adams favorite plants to nibble on when he wasn't eating honey.

Lucifer: here my love

Adam eagerly took it and started to eat, the courting had just begun and Lucifer was sure to narrow down his competition for his Adam.

(I hope this makes sense idk I kinda had this brewing from the beginning when I saw yandere Lucifer)

I have an idea, Yandere King Bee Lucifer with Human Adam 👀

With a forced transformation/curse for Adam to become a Queen Bee /nf /suggestion

Just some food for thought! Anyways, have a good rest of your day/afternoon/night!

Skadoodles back into the abyss

Well a King needs his Queen 👑💖

@sir-tater-of-the-tot 👀

Since he's a King, there aren't many bees anymore so he needs to repopulate his kingdom.

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uracutieraka · 3 days ago

Text

Something stupid

★・・・・・・★

The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

★・・・・・・★

Kuroo Tetsuro x F!reader

Tw: nothing! Lol!

★・・・・・・★

Synopsis; you and kuroo grew up together and one slightly intoxicated night you admit things you probably shouldn’t have.

★・・・・・・★

You and Kuroo met when you guys were 6 years old.

You had just moved in to your new home only to be greeted by a tall dark haired boy asking if you wanted to play volleyball.

You, ever so excited about the opportunity to already make a new friend took him up on his offer.

He tricked you.

He didn’t want to actually play volleyball, he just wanted you to throw the ball to him.

You were okay with this though, you thought the chatty boy was funny and cool.

“So your names y/n but can I just call you n/n? It sounds way cooler. No offense.”

“N/n is way cooler Tetsuro!” You chirped back.

“Cool. N/n it is then!”

Something about how sure of everything he was lured you in.

Even when asking questions it’s like he already knew what your answer would be.

That’s what kept you coming around him, he intrigued your little brain.

He felt the same about you.

You had big eyes that were always so full of wonder and joy that he wished he could have.

Tetsuro was smart. Extremely smart. He had heard his parents say he was too smart for his own good so many times he had lost count.

He hated being the smart kid.

Always knowing what the adults were talking about had made him stressed. More stressed than a six year old should ever be.

He had found himself bored with life. Dreading big questions all the time.

His parents fought a lot, he wondered how long it would take for them to get a divorce.

Divorce. He learned what that was a year ago when he over heard his mom mention getting one to her friend one night, while his dad was out of town for work.

‘I just cant stand this anymore. Im only here for Tetsu.’

‘Have you thought about… you know?’

‘Divorce? Yeah i have. I just- I don’t know how to even start.’

His mom was unaware of her son’s presence, otherwise the conversation would have been over the second she knew.

‘Divorce’ had repeated in his mind for the whole weekend.

Finally when school came around he asked his teacher.

“What’s a divorce?”

The teacher, thinking nothing of it, answered.

“It when a married couple breaks up.”

It took 3 more years for them to leave each other.

But he was lucky. He had you.

By the time you two were nine he had surpassed you in every academic way possible.

‘N/n! N/n! Guess what?!’

‘What?!’

‘I’m reading at the same level as middle school second years do!’

‘Wow Tetsu! You’re so smart!’

You didn’t care though, you always remained proud of him. Openly expressing it all the time too.

When you were 10 though, there was a suddenly shift between you two.

A younger kid from down the block named Kenma had started coming around.

Practicing volleyball with Tetsuro everyday nearly.

You weren’t one to get jealous but something about this whole situation made your stomach hurt.

The boy you had known for three years was pushing you aside for someone he had known for 3 months! How unfair!

‘You never play with me anymore Tetsu!’

‘Well yeah, Ive been busy!’

‘Playing with Kenma! It’s not fair!’

‘You’re dramatic!’

You guys didn’t talk for a whole year after that.

You had never been so lonely in your life.

On your 11th birthday though, Kuroo decided enough was enough.

He used all his allowance money to buy you the biggest stuffed animal he could find.

Rushing over to your house with it he practically ran your door down trying to get in.

‘Happy birthday n/n! Stop being mad at me! Im sorry! I miss you!’

A few years later, you had came around to the idea of Kenma. Creating a trio you three became unstoppable.

Middle school was rough for all three of you.

Kenma was a year younger than both of you so seeing him was harder to do than you thought it would be.

You decided Friday nights were mandatory sleepover nights because of this.

That’s how you ended up here, eight years later, on the floor of your new apartment with Kuroo.

Kenma’s mom said he needed to get his grades up before he even thought about asking to go out again.

It had been like this the past 6 Friday’s.

Just the two of you, because Kenma couldn’t get his damn grades up.

“Well maybe if you stopped bleaching your hair you wouldn’t have so many chemicals seeping into your brain so you’d actually focus in school.” A shit eating grin was plastered across the tall mans face.

“It’s not the bleach Tetsu. It’s the video games obviously.” You stated, propping your phone up so you both could properly see your younger friend.

“Both of you shut up!” Kenma groaned, throwing his face into a pillow on his bed.

“Welp! Maybe get your grades up!” Tetsuro said, sticking his tongue out tauntingly.

“Whatever asshole.”

‘Kozume! Watch your mouth!’ You heard kenma’s mom yell in the background.

“Whatever!,” he replied back, grabbing his phone and holding it close to his face. “Im gonna go now. Do my homework or something. I hate you both, bye!”

“Hate you, love you byeee!” You said pressing the big red ‘X’ in the corner of your screen.

Sighing you roll over on your mattress which is smack in the middle of your (soon-to-be) living room.

“Tetsuuuu,” you coo out, a sign you were up to something sneaky. “I have a surprise from my grandparents!”

“Oouuu what is it?” He said, matching your devious tone.

You hopped up and skipped over to your mostly empty fridge.

A pizza box and bottle of wine sat in it.

The pizza curtsey of your best friend, his ‘housewarming gift’ was dinner for the night.

And the bottle, a gift from your grandparents for turning 19 and moving out.

You grab the, now, chilled bottle and skip back out to the empty living room.

Lucky for you they also gifted you a corkscrew with it.

Sitting down infront of him you shake the bottle in his face.

“Oouuhh fancy, where’d ya’ get that?” A quizzical eyebrow shot up on the mans face.

“My grandparents. They said its a tradition and good luck to drink a bottle of wine when you get your first place.,” you huff looking down at the bottle in your hands. “I just think they’re cool as fuck and were trying to reason with my parents.” A small chuckle leaves your lips as you now look back up at the black haired man across from you.

“Hey nana l/n has always been awesome as hell! Cut my girl some slack!” He replies, reaching out and grabbing the bottle to inspect it himself.

You laugh at his response.

He’s always been so quick witted. It was one of his most charming traits, in your opinion.

“So! We gonna crack this bad boy open, or what?” You say, drawing his attention off the label.

“Yes, sorry!,” He smiles up at you apologetically. “Do the honors ms. l/n!”

You take the bottle from him and slam the cork screw in the end. After a moment of twisting a ‘POP!’ Sounds through the echo-y room.

“Hoorah!” He shouts, throwing his arms out wide in the air.

“You’re such a nerd!” You shout back.

“Whatever! Just fill my damn glass!” He shove the glasses in your face.

You stick your tongue out at him but do as he says, pouring the contents of the bottle out into the glasses.

After you fill each of them very generously to the half way point of the cups, you take a curious sip.

Your face contorts into a sour look.

“Ew! This is disgusting!”

“Really?” Kuroo asks, taking a cautious sip himself.

You watch as his face also turns sour.

“Oh my god thats horrible…”

You two stare at each other for a moment before bringing the glasses back up to your lips, both chugging the alcohol down, hoping to finish before the other one.

You finish your glass first and snatch the bottle off the floor, pouring another glass and doing the same thing.

He finished not long after you, waiting for you to fill your glass again before following your actions and refilling his.

After a few minutes of chugging down glasses you grab the bottle again, its empty.

“Damn!” You say, finally catching your breath.

You both are panting heavy at the lack of air intake.

“We finish it? Should be a few minutes before we start feeling it.” He finally says.

He was right.

10 minutes later you stand up to get some water to was the nasty after taste out of your mouth. But it hits you like a truck.

You wobble around for a second before giggling at your actions.

“Oop!” You slur out.

He laughs out behind you, standing to help you.

He trips slightly over his own foot, falling flat on to the ground.

Youre laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Te- testu! Are- HAH are you okay?” You finally manage to ask through bursts of laughter.

He stands up, laughing just as hard as you.

“Yeah, im fine.” He says when he finally stands up straight.

He stumbles over to you.

“Where’s your speaker at?” He asks, brushing the front of his black t-shirt off.

You fumble around the counter, moving boxes around to find your bluetooth speaker.

You pull it out from behind a box and turn towards him.

“Here!” You hand it to him.

“Perfect..” he mumbles, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. He pulls it out and makes haste turning it on and connecting it.

A familiar song starts playing.

One that you two listened to on late night, alone in your old room.

Record old and scratchy, from your grandmothers collection.

You and Kuroo were far from just friends.

He was your first kiss, after all.

It happened when you were 14.

An off chance that kenma stayed home.

Kuroo had snuck a beer from his dads fridge the weekend prior, on a mandatory visit due to the divorce agreement.

He save it for this weekend hoping to share it with you and kenma, but kenma had a new game that had just released that day. He obviously had to play it right away.

You didn’t mind though, it was hard for you and Kuroo to find time to hangout just the two of you anymore.

You loved Kenma but Kuroo was your best friend first after all.

Kuroo stands up and reaches his arm out.

You grab it and stand up, facing him.

"So, I've been thinking, neither of us has kissed anyone yet," his face flushes and turns away from you as the words leave his mouth. "And it's probably better we get it out of the way before first year starts. That way we're not like, you know... behind?"

"Behind?" You ask.

"Yeah, all my friends on the volleyball team have had their first kisses and it's normal to do it. Plus we're best friends and friends can kiss too!" He says, a giant smile on his face.

"Friends... can kiss too?" You had never really thought about it like that, but you guess he's not wrong.

"Friends kiss all the time! It's normal in other cultures! Plus one little kiss couldn't hurt anybody," He leans forward to be slightly over you. "So? What'd ya' say?"

"Okay." you say quietly.

were you really about to kiss your best friend?

He leans forward and you close your eyes.

It was a quick and slobbery kiss to your lips.

He pulled away quickly. Unsure what to do next.

You blush and look away.

“Ok now we kissed so can we go back to what we were doing?

He laughs before sitting back down on your bed.

“Y/n?” Youre broken out of your train of thought by kuroo extending his hand out to you.

You grab it and he pulls you in close to his chest.

This was familiar.

You slightly inhale his smell while you adjust to the new position.

Your finger tips slowly trace up his arm, until your right hand meets his left one. He intertwines your fingers together.

At the same pace you slide your palm flat against his chest up to his shoulder.

He hums and closes his eyes and his right hand drops down to rest on your hip.

Kuroo enjoyed these moments. Slow and calming. They were a nice break from the busy schedule he had.

Everything and everyone around him was so intense all the time, but you? You had a way of stopping time and calming him down. And you didnt even have to do anything.

He begins swaying you two around languidly around the small kitchen.

Youre both humming to the tune of the song when he begins to sing softly.

“I practice every day, to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true”

You giggle at his antics before joining in on his singing.

“But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you”

Its now his turn to chuckle at you, he instead opts to spin you around.

“Oh!” You say at the sudden movement. Stumbling a bit he grabs your waist to steady you out.

“Sorry.” He says, wide eyes trained on you.

“It’s okay dont worry!,” You say, resuming the position you were in before. “Let’s keep dancing.”

He nods, continuing to sway around.

"Y/n." He says, the sudden seriousness in his voice sends a chill down your spine.

"Hm?" You hum back in response, focused on where your hand intertwines with his.

"You know, this isn't, normal for friends right?"

You knew that. You weren't stupid.

Sneaking kisses when nobody was looking, intertwining your pinkies while you guys walked together, cuddling up whenever you guys could. All these things were things that couples did. Not friends.

"What about it?" You ask and he finally stops swaying you around, lowering his other hand to rest on your other hip.

He takes in a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. When he looks back down at you he begins to talk.

"So, maybe we should talk about it?"

You bring both your hands to smooth over the fabric on his shoulders.

"Do we have too? I like whatever this is." You huff out, now looking up to make eye contact.

He rolls his eyes.

"Yes! We obviously have too!" He's hurt at your response.

He would much rather be your boyfriend than best friend. In fact the idea of forever being whatever he was to you drove him crazy.

You step backwards a bit, breaking from his hold.

Obviously you want him to be more than your best friend, but was it worth it?

If you say no you risk losing him either way.

"Look, Tetsuro," He cuts you off before you can finish.

"If you're going to say no then you have to answer another question." His eyes hold an emotion you've only seen when he loses a match. Defeat. Like he's already accepted the fact you would turn him down.

"What is it?" You ask, curious as to what he wants to know.

"If you say no, then you have to tell me what all of this was then? All the late nights sneaking around, the long glances, the flirting, everything. What did it mean to you?"

The question begins ringing in your ears.

'What did it mean to you'

"Everything." it's a quiet whisper, you're not surprised he didn't hear you.

"What?" He says, voice low.

"It means everything to me. That's why I'm scared to do anything about it. It's so perfect right now, what if everything changes?"

He studies you for a moment. Obviously looking up and down.

You shy away slightly at the attention.

He just can't believe something so beautiful could casually stand around in front of him.

You're in old running shorts and one of his t-shirts. It was beaten up from years of use.

Once he grew out of it last year he finally gave it to you.

Your hair is messy and frizzy from the humidity of moving and drinking. Falling out of the bun you put it in lazily hours ago.

"I understand where you're coming from, but I can't just do this forever." His reply doesn't shock you. It isn't fair to ask him to wait forever. You know that.

"I know..." You sigh, looking down at your socks.

"Can you stop being so emo and just be my girlfriend?" He sighs loudly, taking a step forward, hands finding your hips again.

His tone is teasing but you know he means the words he's saying.

"Promise to not let it ruin what we have?"

"Hmmm....," He puts a finger up to his chin and taps it, like he's pondering the idea.

"We have to acknowledge that there will be certain risks, such as, since you'd be my girlfriend if anything happened between us I'd probably die of a broken heart, im pretty sure."

"Oh my god you are such a nerd Tetsu!" you playfully swat at his chest, laughing.

"Ok but seriously, be my girlfriend."

"I gotta think about it."

"There's nothing to think about, be my girlfriend."

"There's a lot to think about actually."

"How about, you say yes to being my girlfriend right now, then think about it later?"

"That makes no sense."

"Who cares?"

You didn't realize he'd be slowly leaning down with each question until you feel his breath on your face.

You can smell the alcohol from earlier on his lips.

"I care." Your voice is stern.

He backs up again, removing his hands from you and leaning back against the counter top.

He's so tall that the counter is in line with his hips. Making it the perfect resting spot for him.

You lean on the counter opposite from him. The kitchen is small so you guys are still close enough that your feet are touching.

You put some weight back on to your wrists, allowing you to lift your leg up and give a small kick to his shin.

He looks up at you, taking his focus from where your feet were once entangled.

"What?" He asks, a hint of attitude lacing his tone.

"Don't do that Tetsuro."

He doesn't respond, but instead rolls his eyes.

You huff, not caring to argue with him.

"Look, I'll be your girlfriend," You watch as his face perks up, he goes to say something but you're quick to shove your hand out in to his face to keep him quiet. "But, you have to make one promise."

You drop your hand, allowing him to respond.

"I'll do anything!"

"Okay, and I'm so serious about this. Like, this is do or die."

He nods his head up and down quickly, showing his blind alliance to whatever you were going to say.

"Okay, So, I need you to promise that you'll stop making corny science jokes all the time."

He stops moving to stare at you, popping a brow up at you In annoyance.

"That's it?"

You nod 'yes' quickly.

"No can do sweetheart. Science jokes are baller."

He rolls his eyes again, grabbing you and pulling you back into him.

Your words are muffled due to him holding your face into his chest.

"And you can't say 'baller' to describe things anymore!"

"Uh-Uh! You're asking too much of me!"

He lets your head go and move your head back to look up at him.

"Fine, I'll be your girlfriend. No conditions."

"Swear?" A cheesy grin overtakes his face.

"Yeah. Swear."

He leans over, grabbing your face in both his hands, squishing your cheeks until you're lips poke out.

A giant wet kiss lands on your lips and he makes a show of popping his lips with a 'MWUAH'! He drops your face and you wipe the excess spit off your mouth.

"Okay one condition, you have got to stop giving such wet kisses! It's gross!"

He just laughs, signaling that won't happen anytime soon.

"Too late you already said swear."

You roll your eyes and push his chest a bit, finally going to grab a glass of water.

You guess having him as your boyfriend couldn't be so bad.

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ajvocals43 · 2 days ago

Text

Country Girl (Shake it for me)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3378

Warnings: Rushed writing (not edited), body image issues, cheesy cliches

Summary: Y/n is in love with Dean, but what happens when she decides to show him what he's missing out on?

A/N: I couldn't let Dean's birthday go by without writing a fic for him. This was done really quickly and hasn't been edited but I've had this idea for a while. I will also say, I didn't add it but if you play Whole Lotta Woman by Kelly Clarkson during the beginning of the bar scene, it hits. That, along with Country Girl by Luke Bryan are what this was based off of.

Hot. That was my only thought as I stepped out of the backseat of the dark chevy impala. I stared up at the western themed motel in the small town in the middle of seemingly nowhere. Dean was freaking out, as per usual when it came to the “Wild West”, and what better place to be for all that than Texas. It’d been a long time since I’d been to the lone star state; not since I was a teenager trading months between my parents. It hadn’t seemed as hot then. Right now, I felt like I was standing on the surface of the sun in my dress pants and blouse that I’d worn to interview families while Dean and Sam went to the Morgue. I really needed some shorts. Really, I needed the confidence to wear some shorts.

“Is anyone else sweating balls out here?” I asked the brothers who were grabbing their things out of the trunk to head into the room. My question fell on deaf ears as they both continued their conversation inside the air conditioning. They were probably both tired of my complaining since it hasn't stopped since we hit the dry heat earlier this afternoon. I sighed, grabbing my bag, shutting Baby’s trunk and heading into the room. Sometimes we split into 2 rooms but most times there were rooms that had 3 beds, or 2 beds and a cot that we would rotate through each town. This would have been my turn to have a cot but luckily, there were 3 beds lined up against the far wall. I sighed as the air conditioning kicked on and I felt the vent above me start to blow cold air into the room.

“Better, princess?” Dean called from where he stood at the thermostat on the wall opposite me. I nodded, feeling the cold air chill my skin from the hot summer sun outside, walking over to my bed on the left side of the room.

“Didn't you grow up in Texas, Y/n?” Sam asked from where he sat on his laptop. “Shouldn't you be used to the heat?”

“I alternated months. And I never came in August because no sane person comes to Texas in August, Dean!” I called over my shoulder, rifling through my clothes for something that wasn't coated in sweat.

I heard Dean chuckling behind me as he moved about the room. “Sorry, I don't choose where monsters kill people.”

“Please, you're just happy you get to wear a cowboy hat again.” I shot back.

“You're damn right I am!” Dean said with a smirk. “And don't forget the boots, either, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes as I went to get out my laptop, unable to stop the smile that crept onto my face. Sam was right, I'd spent a lot of time in Texas growing up and I'd loved it. Times had changed though and while there were pieces I'd always love and miss, it wasn't home anymore. But I did have to admit, seeing Dean’s excitement made me feel something that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was rare to see him like this and for a second, I just let myself enjoy that, not knowing the next time I would be able to see it.

Yeah ok, so I'm one of the dumb girls who fell for Dean Winchester. Sue me. I'm not going to go through the whole story of how the brothers saved my life and we became besties but then I started to grow feelings for the elder brother through the endless flirty banter. It's not necessary and I don't want to waste time on it. But it didn't change the facts. I was in love with him. And he didn't even notice me.

Could I be more of a cliche?

Apparently, yes.

We had a lot of work to do, so we got to putting the stories together and starting on the research for the night. And it took forever, especially considering how tired we all were from the drive into town. We decided to have dinner and call it an early night.

We’d spent a couple hours researching and coming up with a plan before Dean announced that he was bored out of his mind and going out. Sam looked at me, we both knew I was going with him.

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy going out with Dean, I relished and feared the alone time in equal measure. Because on one hand, having time alone with Dean usually meant I got to see parts of him that I don't think he lets others see very often. And that just made me all the more hopeless because it felt like what he told me in these moments connected us on an even deeper level and that I knew him better than any one night stand or past girlfriend ever could. Because I knew the now Dean. The one that had been through hell, purgatory and so much more. I could understand him because I knew he wasn't the same 26 year old hunter that those girls had thought they could fix. I was under no delusions of being able to fix Dean Winchester. He was a fully grown adult and I was not his mother. But I think what kept my unreasonable hope of ever being with him going was that I accepted him. Bad habits, snap decision making, self-sacrificing traits and all. Because he was Dean. And all those broken parts that left scars and tore apart past relationships made him the most caring, courageous and loving person I'd ever known.

On the other hand though, going out alone with Dean sometimes meant having to deal with broody moods, childish behavior and… picking up girls. Girls who looked nothing like me. I wasn't ashamed of my size…for the most part. I could appreciate my curves most days, but there were times where I struggled not looking like the bartenders or waitresses at the establishments we stopped at. The kinds of girls Dean picked up. He rarely ever went home with girls now, but it still happened. And it was not a fun time for me to sit in the backseat so he could drop me off at the hotel with Sam like I was a kid. Or even worse, when I refused to ride and had to walk or wait for an Uber to come pick me up. Because then, Dean wouldn't leave until someone safe showed up to come get me, and while I appreciated the thought, I did not appreciate the glares from the girls or the feeling like I was a child who couldn't take care of herself.

Regardless, because we were friends, I wanted to look out for him. I knew Sam got some anxiety when Dean would just up and leave sometimes because you never know what could be lurking in the shadows, especially in our line of work. Or at least that's what he told me. I had the stinking suspicion he just wanted me out of the room because he knew about my feelings for Dean and didn't want to monitor my moping while he was gone. Which was understandable.

Dean and I got into our respective sides of the car as usual. Sam normally rode up front in the passenger’s seat, but would sometimes sacrifice the leg room for me when I got car sick. This wasn’t new by any means and yet, my body’s reactions were as if this was the first time we’d been this close together. I was hyperaware of his smell, the sounds of the leather moving and adjusting underneath us, the feel of the engine under me. I rustled through his box of cassettes on the floor before landing on Bob Seger. Dean gave me a look as I switched out the Led Zeppelin that had been in earlier. I shrugged and turned up the volume as the opening notes of Rock ‘N’ Roll Never Forgets came through the speakers. Dean was still giving me a weird look so I ignored him and started singing, waiting to enjoy the feel of the rushing air cooling down the car as we pulled out onto the road.

Surprisingly, we didn't go to a bar though. Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot in front of a western shop that couldn't have been more than a mile away from the motel. What were we doing here? With the lack of movement on my part, Dean rounded the car and opened my door for me.

“Come on, Princess. Let's get some gear.” I just stared at him. Why were we here? “You comin?” He asked when I just stared at him in shock.

“Uh… y-yeah.” I stuttered. I truly didn't expect this from him. I scrambled to get out of the car and follow Dean who had turned with a smile and begun to walk into the store.

As I entered the store, I got over my shock and figured he probably wanted a hat. Or boots based on the extensive collection that lined 3 of the 4 walls in the store. I followed him for a little before I ventured off to find shorts. The sweating was starting to get uncomfortable and I couldn't last much longer in jeans and dark shirts. I wandered through the racks, attempting to find clothes in my size, of which there weren't as many as I would like. But I did find some. A few lighter material tops and shorts that seemed like they’d fit. But I got distracted (I know, terrible for a hunter) and missed Dean sneaking up behind me.

“What about these?” I turned to find Dean with a pair of what could barely be considered shorts. And sure they were cute with all their jewels and the belt that was looped through them, but they would no doubt look like underwear on me.

“You’re funny.” I said as I turned back to what I was looking at.

“I do.” he agreed, “But what's wrong with these?”

“Theyre short.” I scoffed.

“Isnt that the point of shorts?” he asked, seemingly confused. He wasn't wrong. And on good days, they were something I might wear.

“I see your point. I guess” I said hesitantly.

“Great! Then let's grab some boots…” he turned and eyed a scrap of fabric that was supposed to be a shirt “and this” he picked it up “and get out of here.” I laughed and followed obediently.

We picked up some boots because we needed to be “authentic” for some reason and left for the motel. When we got back to the room, Sam was still in the same place we’d left him. “I’d assumed you guys went to get food or something.” He said before turning his computer towards us. “But get this. I think I found what we’re looking for.”

The rest of the hunt went pretty smoothly. A simple salt and burn, and only Sam got mildly injured from being thrown into a wall. So we decided to celebrate. Well…Dean did. I figured this time I would stay back.

“Why didn't you go with?” Sam asked from his place at the table.

“Didn't feel like it.” I shrugged, not looking up from my book.

“Uh huh.” Sam said. He paused for a while before saying “Y’know, he's not going to know how you feel unless you show him.”

“Show? Not tell?”

“Well we all know both of you are terrible at expressing your feelings. So maybe showing would be easier.” At this, he shut his computer and turned to look at me.

I put my book down. “I love your confidence in me Sam, but you see as clearly as I do what his type is.” I said, trying not to let my sadness show.

“Maybe…” he drew out, “But I also know my brother.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“It means, you should go to the bar.” Sam said, as if it were that simple. Maybe it was for other girls. The ones who didn't have the history we did.

“Im scared Sam.” I finally confessed.

“And?” he asked. “I don't remember you ever letting a man control your life.”

He was right. I was a total cliche but… to be honest, I loved making people realize they'd underestimated me. The bar wasn't far, close enough to walk even though Dean had taken the car. Sam’s words got me thinking. And while I was terrified of being rejected by him, I felt like I owed it to myself to have a good time, regardless of what or who Dean was doing.

So it was time to get off my ass and stop moping. I went over to my duffel bag in the corner of the room and found the shorts and top Dean had picked out earlier that week. What better way than to make a man regret than to throw his own choices back at him. I jumped into the shower and pulled on the clothes. It was a lot more skin than I usually showed but… it'd do the trick. The shorts did wonders for my ass and the top the same for my boobs. And while I wasn't fond of my thighs spilling out the bottom with the highest inseam of a short I'd ever had, it was a pretty sexy look. As a hunter, I never wore makeup so I did my hair and was about ready to leave, when at the last minute, I changed my regular thick boots for the cowboy boots we’d gotten earlier that week. It'd been a while since I'd rocked the denim and boots look, I kind of missed it if I was honest.

And with that, I bade Sam goodbye and walked out the door. When I walked in, it was actually pretty crowded. It must've been a dancing night because when I looked to my right, there were at least 30 people on the floor line dancing. Maybe I'd head over there. But then I spotted Dean at the bar and I made my way over to him, swaying my hips just a little so as to draw a bit of attention from those around me. Maybe they’d see what he was missing. I stopped in front of him and he seemed stunned. Probably surprised that I came out tonight when I'd been adamant about staying in the motel earlier. But then, of course, the bartender returned and started flirting with Dean.

Refusing to let that break my mood, I turned and smiled at someone on the other end of the bar. He smiled back and waved. Just then, the music changed, and I heard the beginning guitar of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl start blasting from the stage. It was one of the few newer line dances I’d kept up with. I'd gone dancing years ago with a friend of mine and she taught me it so I at least knew one modern dance. I jumped up and strutted over to the floor, my steps falling to the beat of the song.

And wow. In my constant fight against the supernatural, I sometimes forgot how much fun simple things like dancing could be. I lost myself in the moves, getting more into it until I was in the middle of the floor, smiling and laughing with those around me. Throughout the song, I let my worries fade away and let myself embody the spirit of the lyrics. Until it came to an end. I turned around to leave and found Dean had moved from the bar to one of the smaller standing tables that rounded the dancefloor. I made my way over to him.

“I almost forgot how much fun those are.” I panted, coming off the dance floor.

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean answered as he slid a glass of ice water to me across the small table top. “You were a natural out there though.”

I took a sip and let the cool water slide down my throat. “That? It's really just about getting the repetition.”

“Nah, I'll leave that to the professionals,” he held his bottle of beer up in a salute to me. “I'm just fine with my place watching.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, looking back to the dance floor. “Who were you watching? The blonde? The redhead?” I tried for nonchalance.

“You.” I heard him say behind me. It took a second for the word to register.

I turned around, confused. “What?”

“I'm always watching you. You know that.”

Right. I really needed to stop getting my hopes up about things that were not real. “Dean, I appreciate that, but I promise, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself-”

“It's not like that and you know it.”

“Dean, I-” I started.

“Baby, don't make me spell it out for you; you know I want you.” He deadpaned.

My jaw dropped. There was no way I had just heard that right. “Huh?”

He looked at me silently, waiting for me to wrap my brain around what he was saying, like it wasn't the last thing I had expected to hear come out of his mouth.

“You…want me?” I asked finally. “Like me, Y/n, me?”

Dean chuckled slightly. “So the teasing wasn't intentional.

“Teasing?” I asked, bewildered. “What teasing?”

“The dancing, the flirting, the tight clothes-”

“Tight clothes?” I blurted.

“Not like that.” he started. I hadn't realized the sexist connotation to those words as he’d said them. “Sweetheart, you have to have realized what you do to me when you wear those jeans, or leggins, or those deep v tops.”

“That's because they don't make a lot of clothes that fit bodies like mine.”

“Really?” his voice dropped. “Cause I'm pretty sure that every stitch of clothes you're wearing, right down to those boots were made specifically to fit every inch of your body perfectly.” He grabbed onto my belt buckle and pulled me, harshly against him. “And to drive me right out of my damn mind.”

Well fuck me.

Literally. Please.

My eyes dropped to his lips. Inches from mine now, I could feel his body heat radiating through our clothes. He leaned down, his right hand moved from my belt up my back and into my hair, grabbing a fist full of curls and pulling gently, drawing my eyes up to his. I licked my suddenly dry lips as I watched him smirk before leaning in slowly, giving me plenty of time to back out. Fat chance of that happening. I raised up on my toes and met him halfway, sealing our lips together in the single hottest kiss I'd ever had. I'd laughed at the amount of girls that gushed over his abilities but holy hell. They were right. I held onto him as we kissed every last breath out of our lungs, only pulling away when it started to hurt. I felt his smile against my own as we caught our breath.

This was crazy. Absolutely insane. And incredible. “Damn woman.” Dean said, his breaths matching mine. “You drive me crazy.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yeah.” I said dreamily. But my smile sobered as I remembered the bartender. “But what about-”

“What about what Y/n?” he asked.

“The bartender?” I asked. He looked at me blankly. “Shes cute.”

“And?” he asked. “Princess, have you seen yourself?” He made a show of looking me over. “You’d drive any man out of his mind. I'm just lucky you chose to do it to me.”

“Who said this was for you?”

His face turned damn near murderous for a moment. “Let them try it and see what happens.” With that, his hand slid down to wrap around my waist and pull me impossibly tighter to him. There would be no doubt to anyone that we were together. “You’re stuck with me now sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” I asked, playfully. “Not ‘princess’?” since that seemed to be his favorite name for me as of late.

“You like that, huh?” he asked gruffly. “Well…you're mine, princess.” And with that, he leaned down to kiss me again.

Masterlist

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff

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wasabiburger · 3 days ago

Note

I haven't run into overly narrative answers to questions but one thing I have run into a lot are players who try to surprise me as the GM by not speaking to me out of character. As in, I ask them what they want to do, they give me a vague answer, so I ask them what they are attempting/what they are aiming for so that their vagueness isn't being misunderstood by me and they just tell me "You'll see". Not that I'll definitely react in the way they want and give them what they want necessarily, but it will give me a better idea that we are on the same page about the imaginary situation we are communicating from our shared brainwaves.

I can't tell you how many times I have disappointed a player because they wanted to surprise me with some crazy shit but they don't tell me what they want to do so I have the character or world react in the way that makes sense to me but nullifies whatever weird idea they had planned for me to see which we could have avoided if you just told me what you were attempting or communicated in some way that kept the surprise but made me understand what you were trying to do more.

It's like a ttrpg equivalent of those jokes that need the specific response for the joke to make sense, and if you get the person to respond properly just by chance then great but 90% of the time you have just confused the other person and now you're not happy at the awkward situation you've created.

Another effect of the whole "roleplay v rollplay" nonsense people do is refusing to answer ooc mechanical questions in plain answers, which is some of the most irritating behavior.

"What's your bonus to perception?" "I am quite adept at noticing the unseen".

"Oh that was a big hit, how much hp are you at?" "I am at death's door".

I hate it. Makes me jump through mental hoops to try and figure out what they mean and there's absolutely no reason to do it.

Yeah seriously. Like, what the fuck Derek, the game mechanics are an abstraction: my Cleric might not know what the fuck a hit point is but that's the language I the player have to make sense of the game state right now, we can safely assume that if you give me a straight answer as to how many fucking hit points your elf is missing my Cleric who is specialized in healing spells will know how many healing spells he should use. Shut the fuck up Derek, Christ.

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theoneandonlysemla · 10 hours ago

Text

Sujamma Sundas

[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

Tagged by @skyrim-forever and @dirty-bosmer! Thank you <3

Tagging: @vanilleeistee @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @elavoria @firefly-factory @hircines-hunter @illumiera @lillxart @ladytanithia @pocket-vvardvark @rakaiawriter @sheirukitriesfandom @thequeenofthewinter

Honestly, I was like "uuuuhhhh, what did I even write in my life" at first but then I remembered that one specific scene in Dealings with Daedra: Boethiah's Wrath that always makes me so happy when people reach it while reading! That's the one.

Nevri and Morotar have been on the road and poor Nevri had to fight her way through a draugr infested nordic ruin. They now have reached an inn, where they stay the night and Nevri helped herself to a bottle of wine. Let's say, the two of them had a not so pleasant conversation and Nevri left, to wash the rest of the draugr blood from her body. [I'd love to put the entire scene here, but that would be like 2,5k words, so take a snippet:]

A knock on the door startled her, interrupting her train of thoughts. She sat up in the tub, one arm covering her breasts and the other grabbing for the hilt of her sword. Her heartrate rose. She was ready to fight, in this case, completely bare.

“Who’s there?” She uttered, feeling that she was no longer master over the movements of her tongue.

Instead of an answer, the door opened. Back through the archway she was able to see it, but the light over on the other side of the room was dim. Too dim to recognize anyone who had entered. Only a tall silhouette. Her heart skipped a beat. What did he want in here?

“What’s the matter?” She prattled, cursing the amount of wine she had drunk.

Still no word, but she heard heavy steps on the stone floor. The figure traversed the archway and light fell on his body. Nevri’s guess was right, the Altmer stood in front of the bath. The sword still in hand, she let herself sink in a little deeper, her black hair floated around her body. Automatically she crossed her legs and shifted a bit to the side, turning in the tub. Expectantly she stared at the High Elf.

“What is the matter?” She repeated her question, this time slow, to not make it too obvious that she was drunk.

He did not wear his armour anymore, only the boots were a reminder of it. He looked over her and Nevri would have liked to vanish. She did not know, how much of her naked body he was able to see, but every little part of her bare, gray skin was too much.

“As you have been gone for quite a while, I found myself in the responsibility to check on you.”

“Check on me?” She repeated. “Why would you?”

“You are the one who pays me. It would be quite inauspicious if you were to drown drunken in a tub.” He sounded reproachful.

“Canmal pays you, not me. So, you can let me drown in peace,” Nevri answered and let the blade fall out of her hand.

Coin was the only reason, he cared about her wellbeing. She knew that, but it still stung. Without giving him any further looks, she let herself sink under the water. She held her breath, eyes open. And she counted. One, two, three… Hopefully he would be gone soon. Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight… She could not hear any steps, but the water around her ears may deadened the sound. Sixty-four, Sixty- She had to resurface. With her hair sticking to her face, she emerged from the water. She rubbed it out of her face and to her surprise, Morotar still stood next to her.

“You have checked on me. I am fine. You can leave,” she nagged.

Instead of leaving he held a towel in her direction. Reluctantly she took it, giving him a confused look.

“Out,” he said in his most strict voice. “Now.”

“No?” She answered, but being very unsure of her response.

He made a big step closer to the tub, now standing directly in front of it. Looking down on her, his blue eyes fixated her. His expression was unreadable, frozen in place. Nevri pulled her legs closer to her body, clutching the towel in front of her. She felt her heartbeat fasten even more; shivers of excitement rushed through her. Her mouth was dry and to withstand the eye contact was more than exhausting. Morotar bowed forward, his head was in line with hers. She breathed in his smell and felt the warmth emanating from his body.

“If you do not leave this tub right now, I will pull you out and throw you into your bed. Without granting you to cover your bareness. And maybe, I will change my mind on the way and toss you into the little lake outside, as you are so unwilling to leave the water. You would be sober in no time.”

Nevri swallowed hard and her gaze flitted to the pile of clothes and armour pieces on the floor. No, she really did not want to leave the bathroom without her garments or her armour. She had no choice but to obey his order.

“At least turn around if you insist on staying in here,” she mumbled.

#dealings with daedra #tag game #sujamma sundas #tesblr

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arcane-ish · 12 hours ago

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Revisiting the season 1 "is Silco a bad parent" discourse

It seems that sometimes people come across my season 1 metas and liking them and it's pretty fun for me to "re-find" some of my old stuff that way.

I like to think I still stand by a lot of if even if a lot of theories about how things get disproven.

Anyway, I think it's very interesting in retrospect how central and heated the "Is Silco a bad father" discourse was in season 1. (It was very much the "is Caitlyn a war criminal" of its day)

One aspect that I think made it differently is that "being a war criminal" is usually a relatively distant concept for most people.

While if you listened deeper you could sense a lot of personal stories and very different takes on what makes a good or bad parent.

Looking back, it does feel like maybe a lot of it was the Vi&Cait side of the fandom versus the Silco&Jinx side of the fandom with a lot of people in the middle weighing in, because it is an interesting question and again ones relationship to a parent being something where everybody can bring something to he table.

In the end season 1 is very structured around Vi. She's by the character by far with the most screentime. And season 1 is pretty much about her quest to retrieve her sister.

Vi has a certain, harsh way of perceiving Silco and Silco and Jinx. And I wonder if at least some of the discourse was a lot about validating Vi and validating Vi's quest. Because if Silco is an awesome parent and Jinx is happy, then Vi's quest is basically useless, right?

For the record, I don't think Vi fans were overall about proving that Silco is evil and Vi has to smite him. Even in season 1 I think there was generally a lot of fandom discourse support for the idea that Vi has to accept that her sister is changed and that she can't just blindly cling to the past. But there's still investment in the idea that she is at least partially right.

On the opposite. To me it does feel like on the Silco&Jinx side (even though people will always say they understand that their charas do bad things) it did feel like there were genuinely people who wanted an edgy "Silco and Jinx never did anything and are perfect and everybody else drools" take by the show. Again, just like with the Vi side, not all. Plenty of Silco fans who also get that he was a flawed father even if he was genuine. Just saying the "Silco and Jinx should burn the world down without resistance as an awesome powercouple and/or father&daughter duo" also existed and who were longing for a portrayal where everybody who opposed Silco turns out to be more evil than him or comes around and sings his praises to validate Silco.

Which brings me to:

I think a big reason why I was less disappointed with season 2 than some others is because I always saw myself squarely in the middle of this discourse.

For me that looked like that: For a lot of the accusations typically levelled against Silco I was usually a lot more on the "Silco side" of things than on the "Vi side".

That a lot of the things that are happening are dark, but dark that make sense for the setting. ie having Jinx be violent, encouraging her to fight, not seeking help for her mental illness, that always seemed like a fairly natural part of the setting to me. And on the whole manipulating front, seeing it more as "Silco projects his own trauma/fear/paranoia, his messed up feelings about Vander onto Vi" rather than he is intentionally manipulating (though I do think there was an element of "Silco is scared of Jinx leaving him and wants to tie her to him at all costs" rather than just a clean mangnanimous "Silco thinks Vi is dangerous and wants to protect Jinx from harm")

But at the same time: I also had genuine bugbears with his parenting.

When I look at my old post one thing that I pointed out was that it feels off to me that Jinx doesn't have peers her age. She interacts mostly with Sevika and Silco. The closes to her age is probably Thieram and he's scared of her. Back then I reserved judgement. Because we don't know for sure how Jinx felt about it. Maybe since she killed her brothers she never wanted to be around friends anymore out of fear of killing them. Though I still think that as a parent Silco should have pushed back on that. Especially since imo the Enemy music video suggests that in the past Powder did like playing with other children, at the very least Ekko. So to me season 2 was extremely validating when we see that as soon as Silco is gone from her influence the first thing Jinx does is attach herself to a young girl and be really playful and kid like with her. And season 2 suggests that having Ekko forgive her did mean something to her. (and depending on whether you consider it canon or not, Jinx writing "home" on top of the firelight base when she has been there like once is just gutting)

There's also the fact "Silco is just projecting his trauma rather than manipulating" to me is a seriously deal. Even if that means that he isn't manipulating "he can't see beyond his trauma enough to be a good parent" is still a serious parenting issue. (for the record: Vander has very similar problems in his parentage) If you had a parent who is a narcissicst or a drug addict or bipolar and that did have an affect on the parenting style, you would still file that under having a bad/less than ideal childhood even if that parent tried.

And the core effect of this trauma/paranoia is that Silco does not respect what Vi means to Jinx and is not really engaging with Jinx about it. And no, he did not know Vi was alive, but he did lie about Vi just being there for the crystal (when from his conversation with Vi in the Shimmer addict scene he KNEW that Vi was there about Jinx). Not to mention he immediately moves to try to get rid of Vi and attacks her rather than even just subtly try to figure out how Jinx feels about it. Again in a perfect parent world, even if he irrationally feels that Vi will hurt Jinx, the good parent thing would have been to talk to Jinx, express his fears and let Jinx choose how she wants to handle the situation. Support her through it, catch her if Vi really does end up hurting her.

But then I generally often feel like I have a very different take on Jinx and Silco's relationship. Like… if you see Silco and Jinx as a pair, a duo… you can see in season 1 that Jinx isn't fully happy with him? Like the underlying message of season 1 is that even though she was with Silco and she cared for him, she was dreaming of being with Vi the entire time. She wanted to abandon Silco and run away with Vi. She kept, remembered and activated the flare when she realizes that Vi is alive/around. She yearned for Vi while she was gone, was always doubtful of Silco's world, completely thought Silco was capable of lying to her. She cares about him, but she does not fully believe the things he's telling her, she clearly thinks of him as somebody to take with a grain of salt, yes even before the Shimmer maker he doubt him even more.

For the record, I don't buy the Silcofan take Jinx and Silco were 100% happy and he a completely reasonable parent till all the stressors of season 1 Act 2 happened. IMO I buy what Jinx says to Vi in the dinner scene in 1x09, the deep tiredness and frustration. And I don't think that Jinx would assume so easily that he would lie even pre Shimmer if he hadn't given her the vibe before. And we see her pushing back and rebelling a little bit not just against his restriction but against the lies he tells himself before all that.

(it probably helps that my fandom of Silco was always more on the "he's this beautiful, chaotic, tragic, compelling, ingenious mess" rather than "he's so cool and badass". Like a lot harder on the "Silco makes a freaked out face during the rat experiments" than just "Silco does sexy sauntering")

Again, if you "ship" Silco and Jinx as a narrative pair, even if just a platonic one, maybe you were rooting for the story to validate Silco fully. Yes, Jinx strayed and tried to "cheat" on Silco with Vi, wanted to leave him, wanted to run off with Vi, but he was right all along, Vi didn't care for her and choose the enforcer over Jinx. And the happy end will be Jinx understands Silco's love for her and knew he as right all along and be gung go, either wanting to kill herself because she loved him so much or dedicate her life to continuing his life's work.

And maybe the Vi side thought that with Silco being dead it would be a "ding dong the witch is dead", yes Jinx is now even further in her darkness but maybe season 2 can be the search to retrieve her and everybody can at least see what horror he has wrought and how he destroyed Jinx's life if it turns out she cannot be saved.

The thing about season 2 is that if refuses to validate either the "Vi side" or the "Silco side"

And my theory that this really frustrated both sides, especially if they fought for fervently post season 1 about whose perspective is right.

While for me, it felt like a natural continuation of what I already saw in season 1. Jinx genuinely cares for Silco, but she wasn't fully happy with him, their relationship was genuine, but also layered and complex.

She grieves for him, but the moment he isn't there she acts very differently. She does tons of things that weren't and maybe couldn't easily have been part of her life when he was still around. Her position towards his goals, towards the fight, towards Zaun,towards violence is mixed. She connects with Isha, with Vi, with Ekko. She doesn't denounce Vi or Vander to praise Silco.

For the frustration of the "Vi side", she never denounces Silco either. And even worse, like, here you could say, okay, maybe Jinx is just strong enough to resist Silco's influence, especially now that he's gone, but he was still bad for her, but the show imo by adding Silco to the AU does take a stand against that Silco was just a bad father and a malignent influence. If Silco was just full on bad, why would he still be part of Jinx's life in the other AU, where it is hinted that Silco is very much part of many things being better in that AU. To me that alone is a strong proof that they don't see Silco as just a bad thing that has to be fought. Heck that episode textually has Ekko saying outright that maybe he wasted his time fighting/hating Silco and Jinx as part of a general message about forgiveness and embracing people.

And about all people being messy and flawed and you should still embrace them.

And from a Jinx fan point of view? That's great actually

Season 1 is being spent with Silco and Vi metaphorically fighting over Jinx. From their point of view, it would be most desirable if she chose one and decried the other.

But from a Jinx point of view? It's actually great that she doesn't have to choose. Because Jinx is a cool and awesome character who can have deep and layered and complex and loving relationships with Silco and with Vi and with Vander (and gain new ones with Isha and Jinx). She doesn't have to give one up to properly love the other. She can love all these people in her own way and at the same time, there can be complexity and flaws in all those relationships too.

Because again, Jinx is a complex character with many sides to her and many relationships to her.

And just like the show in the end refuses to make a hard choice between Powder versus Jinx, it also refuses to choose between these relationships. Doesn't see the need to push any of them to the dirt, just lets her keep and at the same time lose all of them.

I think that ultimately, why, even though I see many flaws on season 2, I can still find something to love about it. Because to me Jinx is the throughline, the emotional core as the journey of a young woman searching her place, figuring herself out, choosing her path.

(please note that I'm a staunch believer in the "Jinx Lives" theory and that clouds every and all reads on season 2 I have)

In the end, imo the juxtaposition of Silco and Vi was a pretty cool move of season 1. Most fandoms fight primarily about romantic shipping, who should date whom, who is whose OTP.

Structurally, in season 1 Vi is the main character and even though she might have flaws (maybe too brash, too narrow minded, too emotional), she comes across as the more traditional heroic character.

At the same time, she is on a quest that is impossible. She wants to retrieve a sister who doesn't exist anymore. She wants things to not change, but that can't be avoided. She has a quest given to her by her dead father figure, but maybe that quest isn't just impossible, maybe it isn't what she should be doing in the first place?

And the fact that Vi is structurally the hero but maybe she's also kind of wrong I think opened up this narrative space of "okay, if Vi is not right, that maybe who or what is?"

I get that the show answering that question with "everybody is flawed, those relationships an co-exist" isn't a satisfying answer for everybody who wanted clarity, but I can just reiterate, from my Jinx fannishness point of view, I think it's pretty great.

#arcane #jinx #silco #vi #silco and jinx #vi and jinx

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crawlingdrawing · 13 hours ago

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So are you ever considering doing a new comic series now? Or are you ready to run off and enjoy life into the sunset?

I hope I'm not sounding rude! I just wanna see if I need to keep my peepers on the lookout for you beautiful art style at any point!

Not a rude question at all, I'm happy to answer :)

I'm writing an epilogue with Kurt and Rogue (as voted for in the poll), that's about 5 pages/17 panels. It centers on their their somewhat newfound sibling-relationship and also explores what happened to Jardine.

I'm not doing any more full comic series, but I might do some short comic-scenes/outtakes to answer asks or if I feel the inspiration.

I have some ideas centered on how both Kurt and Morph deal with the trauma they've been through, and how that affects their friendship and the relationships with the rest of the team.

I also have some cut content that I might get back too. For example there was a really creepy scene with Jardine and Kurt on day six, when Kurt pretends to give in and submit, that I ended up not showing it in the comic. I do like the really rough and angsty scenes, but the story felt like it had a better flow when it just jumped directly to Kurt's gymnastics on day 8.

In terms of the story Sinister is a much bigger threat then Jardine ever was - but that comic would be to long for me to write. If any fanfiction writers wants to pick up that thread please go ahead ;)

#the cage fan comic #would you believe I toned down a lot of Jardines creepiness and violence from the first draft?#He ended up pretty awful anyway

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fairly-odd-parents-takes · 2 days ago

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While I can see why everyone jumped on Perirep at the start, I think they've kinda forgotten the reasons why the two of them are even interesting to start with, other than being toxic yaoi lol. I wish people would explore the way both of them have ended up acting just like their parents due to the expectations society put on them, and that they'd probably have obligations that they couldn't throw away even if they did like each other. I'd want to examine how stagnant fairy society must be with no new generations being born to propose new ideas or change things, so much so that both sides unconsciously shoved all their hopes and dreams on to these two guys the moment they were born. The Anti-Fairies want Irep to destroy Peri and set them free, and Fairies want Peri to be a perfect Godparent like his parents. Neither of them seem very happy doing these things, but they're so deep in it they don't even realize they aren't happy. I certainly don't want to single anyone out or police what they make, but in general I wish there was less "I'm kicking my gay son out"/"Da Rules says you can't date"/"I'm Pregnant" telenovela conflict in fanworks, and more exploration of Peri and Irep becoming aware of why they're so miserable and trying their best to either change it or at least make it less painful together. Their relationship probably won't solve any of these problems by itself either, but it's a start to figuring out what might be causing the rift between their species. Additionally, part of me thinks that some of Irep's problems (divorced from Peri) are SUPER under-explored by fandom. Peri's a celebrity child, sure, but Irep is essentially an ersatz prince (since Anti-Jorgen isn't doing anything) who's clearly had to take on some degree of leadership for Anti-Fairies, even if you interpret Anti-Cosmo as still technically in charge in the finale. I'm also interested in the fact that Irep immediately bonded with Dev and clearly wanted to be a godparent himself. Sure, he might want to do it for the power *at first*, but it raises the question if an Anti-fairy could be capable of loving and caring for a godchild the same way a fairy might (again, divorced from Peri). I always thought it was funny that all Pixies and Anti-Fairies ever wanted half the time was to become parents in the original, so I'm shocked people haven't latched onto that aspect yet. What if they bring stuff to the table that Fairies can't? Anyway. I just think that taking these things into consideration would go a long way to making the ship feel less stale overall, though it's just my opinion.

#💞 | ship take #everyone read this right now please and thank you #mod tags:#mod HEAVILY agrees #thank you so much for taking time out of your day to write this #i read it all and i HEAVILY agree #i just think a majority of fop fans don’t dive deep into the characters and only look at them on a surface level #but when you dive deep into the characters you find so much more about them and stuff that may even help you with your ship #im not asking for everyone to dive into characters and their lore #i just want some to do that like pleaseeee

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cindol · 2 days ago

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˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡. usually not a choso gal at all but the idea of casting director!choso x black fem actor reader came to me . ( blurb kind of . )

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ — slight ooc choso? , fluff, banter,

casting!director choso has come across beauty of all ages, all ethnicities but never quite a beauty like you through looking at these casting audition tapes.

every girl who auditioned for the role of this girl for the romcom movie just didn’t fit the description for him, they were all the opposite of the role and how this main character was described in text. He really had half a mind to quit being the casting director for this movie until he came across you.

you fit the description well. 4c brown hair, deep brown skin and dollish eyes. You didn’t just have looks but acted out this role perfectly for someone auditioning and that’s all it took for him to decide to cast you and call back whatever people were running this movie.

he got some push back from the filmaker, questioning him on why he’d cast such a niche unknown actress for a hollywood movie but choso was sure of his choice.

“i think a new actress would be good wouldn’t it? I think some fresh faces would really make this film pop out.” was his only response to the film maker.

he ended up right with the romantic comedy movie doing pretty well and critiques complimenting your whit and charisma and overall acting. The movie doing so well that there was a after party.

usually choso wasn’t one to attend these types of parties. When he was invited he always just congratulated the film maker through text then went back to his usual routine of staying inside.

this routine for him changed when he decided to say yes since it gave him a chance to see you in the flesh. It definitely surprised a few to see someone as introverted as choso actually at a party.

when it came to actually wanting to talk to you it was hard. He forgot how much he actually hated talking to people, having to fake laugh his way through people’s unfunny jokes till he finally got to you.

you were all smiles in a pretty white a-line tie neck dress, long light pink bow tying up your dark brown hair and black pumps that were definitely making you two inches taller than your actual height.

you were happy to actually meet the man who made it possible for your career to have such a jump start, giving him a nice calm hand shake.

“i’m glad i’m finally meeting the man who even made it possible for me to even have such a good role.” you giggled, a soft giggle that choso liked. Your voice matched your look nicely. “in a way, you’re kind of responsible for my career in a way.”

choso shook his head with a chuckle. “i’m just a simple cast director, i can’t be responsible for your current success. I just saw something about you that… just clicked for me.” he gestured with his hands making a snap of his fingers to indicate that.

your lips pursed, brows raised at that. “well i’d love to know what clicked. Out of all actress’s in the casting tapes you picked me.” you pointed your finger on your chest.

choso hummed. He could tell just by how you spoke and your questioning you were someone who wasn’t use to being picked first. “well, when i looked at the other girl’s tapes they didn’t fit the description of this character on paper.” he paused just to look at the intrigued expression on your face. “but you fit it well and just, acted the part beautifully in your tape. That answer your question?”

a impressed smile was on your pretty lips, nodding. “i’m glad not only do you find me pretty but a good actress.”

a slight blush was on choso’s cheeks while he chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “who knows, maybe i can find another casting gig and put you onto some slasher film.”

#choso x black!reader #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso kamo x black reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader

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dxstoeskyvjbess · 3 days ago

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– FAVOURITE CRIME

𝓟𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

𝓦𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; not eating, angsty, swearing, jj might be slightly occ, jj messing his life up.

𝓦𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 1.2k

𝓘𝗻𝗳𝗼𝘀 ; angst | loosely inspired by favourite crime (olivia rodrigo)

𝓝𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ; i just started obx and finished it in 2 weeks wtf

𝓢𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ; well i hope i was your favourite crime, cause baby you were mine.

masterlist | request | about me

⁀⁀➷

JJ often got into trouble. It wasn’t something new, and you got used to it eventually—yet you often found yourself terrified because of whatever new trouble he had just thrown himself into.

At first, all you wanted was for him to be safe, and you easily looked past everything he did. You were a Kook, and crime wasn’t exactly a daily event before you happened to team up with the Pogues. Yet, after you found a home in JJ Maybank, things changed.

You had honestly lost count of all the times you had to pay for restitutions or give money to questionable people to drag him out of trouble. You were happy to help him—you really were—but there were times when all you needed was long-lasting peace, and JJ, even if he wanted to, wasn’t able to give you that.

"Know that I loved you so bad, I let you treat me like that…"

Eventually, you realized you couldn’t help but grow colder, and the weight on your chest grew heavier every time he was in danger. The lies you had to tell your parents and the lies you had to tell yourself to keep going were growing old, and you watched those pretty lies become insufficient.

Yet you loved him, you really did, and that left you on the edge of supporting his lifestyle while also realizing just how different yours was. You tried so hard to stay strong, but you had a weak heart—you always knew that.

"I was your willing accomplice, honey…"

He didn’t usually drag you into his plans; in fact, he worked hard to keep you safe and unaffected by his behavior—but he knew the problems would keep piling up.

He watched as you saw him doing things he secretly hated, all while wearing your heart on your sleeve and giving him a look that screamed Stop, please.

"And I watched as you fled the scene…"

“What did you do this time?” was usually the first thing you asked, your voice cracking just a little toward the end as you avoided his gaze. He could see the discomfort in your face, no matter how much you tried to hide it, smiling because, after all, he was okay. You would still hold his hand gently, just like you always did.

"Doe-eyed as you buried me…"

One heart broke, four hands bloody.

But this time, he went too far. After getting into a serious fight with his father—which was already enough of a concern for you—he just disappeared.

No texts. No calls. He sent you a single message saying he got into something with his dad, and then he disappeared for four days.

You called every person he was remotely close to, from John B to Kiara, and, out of desperation, you even sent a quick text to Rafe Cameron.

You spent hours crying. If even his friends had no idea where he was, anything could have happened to him. On the third day, you even considered the possibility that he was dead, and the thought made your heart crumble into tiny pieces.

John B and the others were starting to worry too. They eventually teamed up with you in hopes of finding him wherever he had decided to hide.

Your parents didn’t know what to say. You refused to eat, you refused to sleep, and you refused to live, in the first place, without him.

Then, on another night spent crying, your phone lit up in the middle of the night.

"Sorry, had to stay away 4 a while. I’m at the Chateau."

You stared at the text. At first, you thought you were hallucinating. But after reading the message at least ten times, you slipped on your shoes, grabbed a long jacket, and ran in your pajamas from Figure 8 to the Chateau.

The blonde was with John B, wearing a tired expression and sporting a few bruises here and there. His face lit up instantly the second he saw you, his smile growing an inch—until you slapped him hard across his right cheek. His smile vanished.

“Are you out of your mind?! You don’t have a clue how worried I was! I thought you were dead!” you shouted as loud as you could, tears slipping down your face the second you started to talk.

“I’m so—” “No, you’re not.”

Your head pounded heavily, your weak body—deprived of food and rest for days—barely sustaining the pressure.

“I can’t do this anymore, JJ. I am so tired of ruining myself to keep up with you. My parents can’t even look at me anymore because of how much money I spend for you. My friends don’t ask me to hang out anymore since I’m involved in…whatever the hell this is.”

"The things I did…"

“And all that because I love you. Because I sickly wanted you to be mine. And you know what? There are times when I wish I didn’t.” Your voice was hesitant, but you knew this was a never-ending cycle that you needed to stop. You were spilling every bit of pain, anger, and venom that had bubbled in your chest.

JJ just stood there, his mouth dry as he absorbed every word you said. Each hurt expression on your face felt like a stab to his stomach.

"Just so I could call you mine…"

“Everything you did today just proves how little you care for me, contrary to what you say. But words are cheap, JJ. It’s your actions that speak louder.”

He didn’t know what to say. He always knew the truth deep down, but hearing it from you was a whole different level of guilt. “I know… You’ve gone through so many downs since you met me—” he murmured, unsure if you even wanted to hear him.

"The things you did…"

“Yeah, I did. Many downs and many dangers for you as well.”

“But that’s what my life is about—downs and dangers. I never asked you to be there for me,” he argued weakly, trying to raise his voice in a mere attempt of defending himself.

“But I was there for you! And I spent months dealing with the consequences of your actions!”

“That’s on you, though!” he shouted back, his anger catching up to yours. He hated feeling attacked—or vulnerable—and right now, he felt both.

“So much for I love you, Maybank,” you gritted through your teeth.

“You know what? I’ll lay my armor down. Find somebody else who can deal and commit like I did for so long. Good luck.” You stared at the ground for a moment and smoothed your hands over your sundress before giving him one last look.

“Well I hope I was your favorite crime, JJ.”

And with that, you smiled and walked away.

JJ stood there, watching the very person he swore he’d never fail walk away, choosing her own happiness over him. He was almost proud of you. He took a deep breath and stared at your figure now far in the distance.

And he knew you weren’t going to look back.

Indeed you were his favorite crime.

"Your favorite crime…" ‘Cause baby, you were mine.

#outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx x reader #x reader #john b routledge #kook reader

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