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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

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Arthur denying his feelings for reader be like: plays Hercules (1997) - I Wont Say Im In Love

Anon, this one turned out so cute and fluffy, I’m literally on the verge of death!

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Arthur’s leaning against a tree at the edge of Clemens Point, feeling like a lovestruck idiot. He’s been watching you for longer than he cares to admit. Despite being the newest member of the gang, you’ve continuously surprised him over the past few weeks. It was the obvious stuff at first, the way you wore your hair, the way you talked to people (especially him), how you treated your horse. Now it’s the small things he’s taken notice of. How you brush the hair from your face, how you like to watch the sunrise while drinking your morning coffee.

He rubs his hand down his face, knowing he shouldn’t get involved with you. He’s a fool for falling for you in the first place. Not that there’s anything wrong with you, he thinks, but no one would want his affections. Besides, he’s had too many bad experiences with romantic relationships that it’s just easier to be alone. He’s still heartbroken about how things ended between him and Mary, and thoughts of Eliza and Isaac still torment him. The last thing he wants is to add you to his list.

He crosses his arms, still leaning against the tree and watching you walk across the camp to go and feed the chickens. He watches them gather around your feet, pecking at the grass for the food you’re tossing down. He’s almost tempted to join your side, to look for any excuse to talk to you. You’ve become close friends after all, talking comes easy. But he’s decided to try and push you away, he can’t risk falling for you. Or at least falling for you more than he already has.

“Hey ol’ man, grumpy Morgan!” Sean chuckles, coming towards him. He’s clearly on guard duty, the repeater in his hands.

“What you want, boy?” Arthur says, clearing his throat and looking towards the lake, trying to look innocent.

“Nothin’. Just wonderin’ when you’s gonna ask that girl out. Y’know, Karen was tellin’ me the other day how Y/N fancies you. It ain’t a secret you fancy her too. Why not just do everyone a favor, take her out?”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Arthur growls. “It ain’t like that between us.”

“Oh I can see it all over your face, Morgan. You. Love. Her.”

“You’re the world’s biggest fool, Sean. If you know what’s best for ya, you’ll shut your mouth.”

“I knew it, I knew it!” Sean laughs. “Yer the most predictable person. Whenever someone says somethin’ about you that’s true, ya get all defensive and angry. Just do yerself a favor, take that girl out on the town. Hey, if ya need an excuse, I overheard her sayin’ she’s been missin’ the ‘forests of West Elizabeth’.” He makes air quotes.

Before Arthur can snap at him again, he walks away, chuckling lightly. Arthur sighs and leans further against the tree. Sean’s definitely given him something to think about. The forests of West Elizabeth, he repeats silently. What exactly does that mean? He knows you come from out west and that you prefer it out there, much like himself. He’s never heard you talk about forests or anything like that.

Against his better judgment, Arthur comes up with a plan and decides to bring it to you. Besides, he’d be lying if he didn’t want a reason to take you out somewhere alone. Not to try anything, of course, but he enjoys your company. There’s something about you that he finds addictive.

He walks slowly up to you, wringing his hands a bit. He’s nervous that you’ll see right through him. When he gets close to you, still feeding the chickens, he notices something’s wrong. It’s your energy, you just seem down. Your shoulders sag, as though a weight presses down on you. He clears his throat, catching your attention.

“You a’right?” he asks quietly.

Your head snaps up and you look at him. Instantly, the sadness from your face flickers and is replaced by your soft smile. He can tell you’re faking it though.

“Oh hi, Mr. Morgan. Yeah, I’m doing just fine. How are you?”

“Just dandy. Hey listen, I was plannin’ on goin’ out huntin’, figured I could use a partner. You wanna come?”

You pause for a moment. Arthur wants to take you hunting? Why? Sure, you’re familiar enough with a bow and a gun to use them, though the results aren’t always perfect. Maybe word’s gotten around camp that you were crying last night. You were just overwhelmed by everything and had to let it out. The mood still lingers. Arthur must be inviting you because he feels obligated to cheer you up. It doesn’t help you to feel better. It makes you feel like an even bigger burden since Arthur’s constantly bigger running jobs. Still, you have a hard time finding a reason to say no to him.

“Sure, I’ll go hunting. I, uh, hope you don’t mind dragging me along.”

Your choice of words catches him off guard. He’d heard nothing about you breaking down the night before but the dimness of your eyes and your words tells him how bad your state is.

“Don’t mind at all. Would you wanna go now?”

You look over at the setting sun. It’s nearly gone by this point.

“Now?” you ask. “Wouldn’t it be better to go in the morning when it’s light?”

He huffs a bit. “Well I suppose, if that’s what you want. Course I don’t mind spendin’ a night under the stars. But sure, we’ll leave in the morning.”

You feel stupid all of a sudden. You’ve spent plenty of nights in the open, away from camp. It’s just harder to hunt at night. “Mr. Morgan, wait. Wait. I… Yes, we can leave now. I don’t know why I was being stupid.”

He turns back around at your words. He smiles a bit. “Okay. I’ll uh meet ya by the horses. Five minutes?”

You nod and finish feeding the chickens. You try clearing your head, especially the nasty thoughts swirling around. You don’t want to seem like a self-pitying fool around Arthur. You’ve been low-key flirting with him the past couple of weeks and he’s noticeably pulled away from you since. You didn’t want to give him another reason to run away.

After gathering your things, you meet him by the horses and mount up. The two of you head out at a brisk trot. Arthur starts leading you north along the borders of Flat Iron Lake. You want to ask him where he’s thinking of hunting, but your current mood forces you to keep quiet. No one would want to hear you talk anyways. You start questioning why he even wanted to bring you out in the first place. The only thing you can come up with is that it’s because he’s a good man and he heard you were in need of a friendly face. It makes you feel like even more of a burden.

On the northern side of Scarlett Meadows, Arthur pulls to a stop. The sun has set properly now and given way to a nearly full moon. He dismounts and the two of you set up camp. As you sit around the fire, waiting for your meat to finish cooking, he can tell by your eyes that you’re far away. He doubts you’re in a good place. It makes him want to put his arms around you and tell you all the things he feels about you, but he made a promise. He can’t tell you.

“You uh want the tent tonight?” he asks. “I can sleep out here tonight.”

“No, Mr. Morgan. It’s your tent, you should sleep in it.”

He huffs and smiles a bit. “Ya can call me Arthur, miss. Ain’t exactly like we’re strangers.”

You smile a bit. “Right, sorry.”

He pulls the meat off the fire and gives you some to eat. When you’re done, he sits next to you. He feels like you just need a friend to help you out, yet he isn’t sure how to do it without admitting he’s got feelings for you. You yawn heavily.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll stay up a bit, not quite tired yet.”

Instead of agreeing and getting up to lie in your bedroll, you lean over and put your head on his shoulder. He stiffens up a bit at your touch but it’s such a welcome feeling, he can’t pull away. He realizes now that you, like everyone else in camp, have just been overworked and underappreciated in camp. This will be the best medicine for you, getting you away and just taking a break. He wonders again about the phrase “forests of West Elizabeth”. As he’s pondering, he’s also fighting with himself. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to wrap his arm around you or pull you in his lap and hold you against him and watch you sleep. He won’t do that though. He can’t do it.

As he’s arguing with himself, he hears the softest snore come from you. He smiles when he realizes you’ve passed out on his shoulder. He gently picks you up and places you into hsi bedroll in the tent. He covers you with his blanket and then he sits back down by the fire. He smiles a little as he thinks about what could be between you if he were dumb enough to take that chance.

***********************************************

In the morning, he notices you seem a little happier, a little more like yourself. Like you’ve finally been able to relax a bit and get a good sleep for the first time in days. You talk a bit more, yet he can tell you’re choosing your words carefully, which is unlike you. One of the things he admires about you is that you say what you think, even if it’s brutal. He knows he can trust what you say.

You expect him to take you somewhere like the outskirts of Emerald Ranch where game is plentiful. Instead, he keeps leading you west, across the wide mouth of the Dakota River and into West Elizabeth. Seeing the tall pines and green grasses lifts your spirits greatly and you feel like you can take your first proper breath in weeks.

Arthur can see the visible change in you, how your eyes begin to light up again. You smile more easily and start talking more. He notices you even make some of your light jokes. He’s always liked your jokes, cheesy as some of them are. You’ve got a natural sense of humor he finds endearing. He thinks to take you to Big Valley, but something tells him it’s not enough. He needs to take a bigger risk with you.

After arriving at Lake Owanjilla, he pauses. He knows where he wants to take you, but it’s incredibly dangerous. Not because the land but because of where it lies. He just hopes that no one will see the pair of you and if they do, they won’t connect the dots.

“Come on, we’re almost there,” he says and he kicks his horse into an easy trot. You follow him across the dam, down the trail and over the river. You wonder what he’s up to as you enter Tall Trees. You know the risks of going anywhere this close to Blackwater. Word is bounty hunters and Pinkertons have gathered here like flies to a rotting corpse. You want to tell him it’d be wiser to go back, but something tells you to not question him. That he knows what he’s doing.

After a while longer, Arthur slows his horse down. You’re in the thick of Tall Trees, the pines growing high above your heads. The world has turned from green to red with speckles of blue and purple. You’ve always loved Tall Trees, the tall red pines and the green ferns growing between them. The smell is indescribable, addictive. Somewhere hidden in the trees, a squirrel begins to bark.

Arthur looks back at you and grins. You don’t see him as you’re busy gazing at the trees. He can tell that this was exactly what you needed, despite the obvious dangers. He keeps leading you down the trail until the trees break and give way to a small lake nestled in the bowl of the mountains. This is where he finally stops and dismounts. You do as well, though you’re still staring around like a complete moron. You finally turn to him and give him a genuine smile, which makes his knees feel weak.

“Arthur, this is beautiful. But… what are we doing here?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Just seemed like this would be a good place to come and… fish.”

“Fish?” you giggle. “You came here to fish?”

“Sure, why not? Hear there’s a real nice bass livin’ in this lake. Figure if anyone’s gonna catch him, might as well be me.”

“Not if I catch him first!” you shoot and run towards the water. He calls to you and chases after you, the two of you laughing madly. You reach a broken pier first and pull out your rod. “Beat you, Arthur!”

“Oh trust me, sweetheart, runnin’ ain’t fishin’. We’ll see in the end who’s the real winner.”

The two of you cast out and slowly pull your lures back. With the sun beating down and the wind carrying the intoxicating smell of the forest, you couldn’t be happier. You can practically feel the black cloud that’s been hovering over you getting drawn out, like venom from a snake.

Arthur’s line gets tugged hard and he yanks back his pole, setting the hook. “Ooh I got somethin’.”

“Well pull it in, quick!”

You watch him fight with the fish and then he pulls out a beautifully colored bass. You laugh and pat his shoulder.

“He’s a beauty! Good catch, Arthur. Guess you won this round.”

He chuckles and wraps the fish up before putting it into his satchel. “Yeah, guess I did.”

For the next hour, the two of you fish a little more, bringing out multiple trout and bass. Then, just when you think the two of you might be able to get away with staying here for a long while, you hear, echoing across the water, voices. It sounds like a small group of men. Your heart drops at the thought of bounty hunters. There’s no doubt in your mind they might be scouring Tall Trees. It’s the perfect place for a gang to hide, after all.

“Think we’ve outstayed our welcome,” Arthur says and collapses his pole. You do the same and then you both swiftly remount your horses and run off from the lake, avoiding the path. Over the next half hour, you dodge between trees and carefully navigate around the steep drops of the mountain until you hit the trail right above Owanjilla. There, you make your way across the river and into safe lands again. Arthur leads you over to the north end of the lake where he finally dismounts.

“Well that was a fine outing, Mr. Morgan,” you say, patting your horse’s neck from the ground.

“Sure. Well, figure we can hunt here the next couple of days. Know there’s plenty of game in Big Valley.”

You nod and smile at him. “Yeah. But tell me: did you really take me there for a fish?”

He blushes a bit and hides his head beneath his hat. “Well… well no. I known the fish was there a long time, but I didn’t go for it. I just thought you could use the fresh air.”

This makes you laugh. “Arthur, I can get fresh air in plenty of places that have fewer risks.”

He blushes more. “I know. But… well, I won’t lie to ya. I figured the place could do you some good. Heard you were tellin’ Karen you missed it and you seemed down the last couple of days. Just thought I might be able to help.”

You smile at him, your eyes glittering. “Thank you, Arthur. You’ve no idea how much it helped.” You lean up and place a soft kiss to his cheek. He grins, his cheek burning. You look away and say you’re going to go and hunt. He lies by saying he’s going to try and fish a bit more.

When you’re out of sight, Arthur sits down on a boulder. “What is the matter with me? Ya think a miserable outlaw like myself would learn. Morgan, you have the world’s best record of bein’ the biggest fool.”

He sits there for some time, arguing with himself. He can’t love you, but he can’t help being in love. A voice in his head asks what’s the worst that could happen by just letting himself feel what he’s already feeling for you. He argues back by using Mary and Eliza as examples.

“But she isn’t Eliza or Mary,” the voice says. “She’s Y/N and in completely different circumstances than they were. She knows how to protect herself, she’s been robbed and shot at before and came out alive in all those situations.”

“No no no,” he says. “She’ll come to realize I’m a fool like Mary did. I’ll mess things up and she’ll hate me for it.”

“She already knows you’re a fool. She’s seen your crazy side, she knows how scary you can get. More than once, in fact, and she’s still around isn’t she? Mary saw that side one time and she ran off running. Y/N’s different. Never once has she asked you to change or to control yourself.”

“It’s a dumb move!” Arthur says. “I ain’t in love with her nor am I ever gonna be in love with her! She deserves someone better.”

The voice is a bit quieter this time. “It seems like it’s too late for her. You saw the way she looked at you in Tall Trees. She’s already got it for you.”

“Well, she’s a bigger fool than I thought for doin’ that.”

“No doubt. But if you leave her like this, she’s not going to wait around forever. She doesn’t deserve that either.”

Arthur sighs. He knows you don’t deserve him playing you the way he’s been lately. “Well fine,” he says to the voice in his head. “I love her. I love Y/N, but I ain’t sayin’ it out loud.”

********************************************

Night has fallen and you and Arthur are sat around the campfire again, nestled in Big Valley. You’re leaning your head against his shoulder once more like you did the night before. Arthur’s arguing with himself again. He knows he loves you but he’s still unsure if he should act on it. To act on it would be to admit it.

“Arthur?” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you again for today. I… can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve been real sad lately. Don’t know why, but my brain keeps telling me I’m a burden on everyone, I’m merely tolerated. But going back to that lake helped me feel centered again. Like going home. I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

He smiles a bit. “No it makes perfect sense. And for the record: you ain’t a burden or tolerated. People in camp like you, darlin’. You should hear Jack tell his mama about your stories. Sounds like you been helpin’ Mary-Beth too. And you were the first person to get Karen to stop drinkin’ the other day. Can’t tell you how long we been tryin’ to help her quit.”

“Really?” you ask, looking up at him. “And… and what about you? I know you only took me out today because you heard I needed a pick-me-up.”

“No, no that ain’t the reason,” he says. “I didn’t know you needed help until we were away from camp. Like I said, you ain’t a burden. You work hard, I see that in camp. Work as hard as anyone else and eight times as much as Uncle.”

You giggle a bit.

“Point is, me and everyone else who counts sees how much you work in camp. We notice. I know we don’t voice our appreciations, especially ol’ Grimshaw, but it doesn’t mean we don’t see it.”

You surprise him by grabbing the hand on his knee and squeezing it lightly. He knows at this moment he can’t hold back any longer. He withdraws his hand and your heart sinks. You’ve crossed a line. You’re about to pull away from his shoulder until you feel him shifting himself and his hand winds over your hip. He pulls you into his lap and you settle your head on his chest.

Arthur’s heart pounds hard in your ears. He’s wanted to do this for so long with you, imagined doing this. He’s held women like this to him before so he knows what it feels like, but this is different. You’re different. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, perfectly molded to him. You’re warm and it feels so good the way you wrap your arms around him. He kisses your hairline and settles his chin to your forehead.

After a few moments, he feels you place a soft kiss to his chest. It makes him smile and he holds you tighter.

“Arthur?” you say, looking up at him.

“Hmm?”

“I think I love you,” you say quietly. He swallows heavily. “Well I hope so. Because… I know I love you.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Paper Rings (Witney) - opalescentcheetah

A/N: To the anon who requested a fic with “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift in it: here you go! This was so much fun to write, and I hope it was worth the wait!

Summary: “Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.”

Willam, 5:51 pm: play this song on ur way home xx

Courtney smiles to herself, sliding into the driver’s seat and hitting play. A steady beat fills the car, and she finds herself bobbing her head, humming wordlessly along as the second chorus starts playing.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…”

Courtney is surprised to find the apartment empty when she arrives, the hallways eerily quiet and dark. She flicks a switch, flooding the entryway with golden light, and calls out for Willam.

The only reply she gets is the echo of her own tired voice.

She pulls out her phone, intending to text Willam, but finding instead that she received a message while she was driving home.

Willam, 6:04 pm: Out running errands. I left some stuff around the house that u should go look for ;)

Stuff? Courtney isn’t sure she has the patience for this, but she can’t say no to Willam.

Courtney, 6:08 pm: Ok. See you soon <3

If she can’t have a greeting kiss from Willam, then Courtney wants a drink. There’s a clear, empty glass on the bench that, curiously, doesn’t even seem to have been used – there aren’t any lipstick stains on the rim.

It takes her a moment to notice the small white object curled in the bottom of the glass. Tipping it into her palm, she finds a slip of paper, rolled and twisted into the shape of a ring.

Paper rings.

Courtney has known Willam long enough to know she’s planning something. She feels a small spark of excitement building in her chest, her exhaustion forgotten as she unravels the paper ring. Willam’s rough, quick letters are cramped into the small space, smudges of blue ink peppering the edge of the paper.

Remember that night when we first met? I was high as fuck and you were so unimpressed. Well, look where we are now!

She’s sixteen, in a foreign country, lost and alone in a world of people that already seem to know each other.

She misses Vanity. She misses Lisa and Jess, and even all the others that she didn’t know quite so well. At least she knew their names; here, she knows nothing about no-one.

That is, except for Alaska. Courtney’s not sure where she’d be without her. Alaska is like her Northern Star, guiding her through all the ins and outs of American high school.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?” Alaska drawls, rocking back in her chair. Courtney watches as she blows a blossom-pink bubble, hears the satisfying snap as it pops again.

“Yeah,” is all she manages.

“Are you nervous?”

It’s only been a week and Alaska already seems to know her inside-out. She shrugs, feigning nonchalance.

“I mean, a little bit, I guess… But it’s an opportunity to meet new people, so of course I’m going.”

“Good.” Alaska smiles at her, and Courtney feels a little more relaxed. “I want you to meet some of my other friends, and then we can all hang out together.”

The bell rings a moment later, and Alaska is the first to stand. “I’ll see you there!” she calls, waving cheerfully as she disappears into the swarm of unfamiliar faces.

Courtney waits outside, tugging nervously at her skirt as she waits for Alaska. She arrives in a whirlwind, linking her arm with Courtney’s and dragging her through the gate into the noise and electric lights. Courtney stumbles along, not quite sure where they’re going, but content to simply trail behind her.

“Sharon! Willam!” Alaska calls out over the din of other partygoers. Courtney follows her gaze to see two girls leaning languidly against a nearby wall. One raises her arm in a casual wave whilst the other stares lazily onwards, hardly moving a muscle. Alaska pulls Courtney to a halt before them, grinning brightly.

“You guys, meet Courtney. She’s new, from Australia. Courtney, this is Willam, and Sharon.” Alaska points to them in turn, and Courtney can only nod dizzily.

“From down undah, hey?” Willam queries, putting on a false, over-exaggerated Australian accent. “What’s it like coming from nowhere land?”

“Willam!” Sharon hisses, elbowing her sharply. “Don’t be rude.”

Willam just laughs, her movements slow and lethargic. Courtney doesn’t even need to look at the joint she raises to her lips to know she’s high. She chooses to ignore Willam, instead extending her hand to Sharon to shake.

“Don’t wanna pay me any attention, princess?” Willam asks, when it becomes clear Courtney isn’t going to offer her the same formality. She sticks her arm out, waggling her fingers in Courtney’s face.

Courtney bats her away, slightly exasperated. “Definitely not after that awful Australian accent,” she quips, feeling pleased when Alaska and Sharon promptly burst out laughing. Willam frowns, something flashing strangely in her eyes. Courtney looks away from the streaks of colour in her hair, watching as the smoke spirals up towards the moon.

Courtney giggles quietly to herself, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket. There must be more of them hidden somewhere… Willam’s playing a game, and Courtney’s going to win it.

She downs a glass of water as she considers where to look. Their apartment isn’t large, but there are countless nooks and crannies Willam could hide an inconspicuous paper ring in.

It takes several moments of drumming her fingers against the glass for her to realise that she’s still wearing her work clothes, her collar done up tight and stockings itchy against her legs. Upon deciding that a treasure hunt would be much more enjoyable in pajamas, Courtney wanders down the hall into the bedroom.

The sheets are immaculately made, and there’s a small pile of clothes sitting on the edge that Courtney soon realises are her pajamas. Usually, she’d leave them in a haphazard mess somewhere on the ground or on her pillow, and they would still be there when she returned home. Her heart fizzles with warmth when she realises Willam took the time to carefully fold each garment, creating a neat stack at the foot of the bed.

And, alas, there is the second paper ring, the crowning glory of the pajama pile. Courtney sinks onto the mattress, muscles relaxing as she unravels the second note.

Remember when I made you jump in the pool with me in the middle of winter? Alaska said it was cause you were so stupidly in love with me that you’d do anything I asked you to. I think I was a little bit stupidly in love with you, too.

Willam’s explosive splash sends water surging over the edge of the pool, spraying the cold stone and wetting Courtney’s feet. She shivers, standing in the brisk wintry breeze, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders.

It’s her first American winter, and Courtney is struggling to acclimate. She’s used to the warmer Australian weather, when she could wander around the school grounds with nothing but a jumper over her stiff school dress.

And yet, here’s Willam, leaping into her backyard pool in late November, when the trees have shed their leaves and the sky is crisp and cold. Courtney watches as her head breaks the water, the edges of her eyes crinkling in laughter. She looks gorgeous with her hair fanning out behind her, strands of blonde and pink and blue like the arms of a jellyfish.

“You two should come in!” Willam calls out, failing to hide how her teeth are chattering. “It’s real nice!”

Alaska scoffs beside Courtney, shooting Willam a withering look. “I wouldn’t trust you to run a business,” she comments, covering her smile with one hand. “You’d never sell anything when you’re that unconvincing.”

“You bitch,” Willam gasps, disappearing under the water again. Its surface ripples in the breeze, distorting the shape of her slender figure as she paddles to the pool’s edge. Courtney doesn’t take her eyes off of her as she surges up again, spraying water across the stone as she shakes her sodden hair out of her face.

“I’m convincing,” Willam promises, eyes darting over to meet Courtney’s. “You’ll come in, won’t you, Court? Show Alaska how nice it is for me.” She shoots her a winning smile, perfect teeth flashing in the winter sun, and Courtney forgets how to say no.

She can’t resist Willam. She hasn’t been able to for months now; seeing her always sends a rush of warmth through Courtney’s chest, like a swarm of butterflies with delicate wings tickling her ribcage. It makes her crazy, makes her want to see and touch and just be near Willam whenever she can. She’s not sure whether she loves or hates it; whether she wants to hug or to slap Alaska for forcing them to become friends.

Her body seems to move without command, stripping her of her jacket, her shirt, and her skin-tight blue jeans. She sees Alaska’s jaw drop, watches as Willam’s eyes light up in triumphant delight.

“Court…” Alaska’s voice is slow, the hint of a warning lacing her words. “Don’t be dumb… You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Courtney’s standing at the edge of the pool now, icy water lapping at her bare toes. “Willam seems fine,” she replies simply, not giving herself a moment to reconsider before she plunges into the cold, blue depths.

‘Cold’ is an understatement, as Courtney soon discovers. The water is frigid, chilling her straight to her bones. Her limbs stiffen, momentarily frozen in shock, leaving her drifting deeper in a cloud of bubbles.

And then she sees a dark shape floating closer, a halo of gold hair around gaunt, elegant cheekbones.

Willam grabs Courtney’s hand in the water, sending that familiar rush of warmth through her body, and suddenly she remembers how to move. They kick upwards together, breaking into the crisp, clear air, and Courtney can breathe again. She feels a laugh bubble up inside her, giddy and warm despite the blueness of her lips.

“You’re both stupid,” Alaska tells them, shaking her head exasperatedly. “So, so stupid.”

And Courtney just giggles, happy to be here with her best friends, Willam’s arm pressed lightly against hers.

The next ring is in the bathroom.

Courtney finds it coiled around the faucet when she goes to use the toilet. Too excited to dry her hands properly, she unravels the slip of paper with damp fingers, smudges of blue coming away on her skin.

Remember our stupid fight? You were nice enough to take me home despite everything. I wanted to kiss you that night, but I was a pussy.

Courtney hasn’t talked to Willam in months.

She sees her at play rehearsal and in passing in the halls, but Willam never looks back. Her stormy eyes are always as cold and hard as steel, drilling holes in the ground with her gaze whenever Courtney is in her vicinity.

Watching Willam drift away was like losing a limb. The ghost sensation of her body beside Courtney’s was always there, pulling her deeper into its ethereal embrace and whispering cruel things in her ear. She can still feel it now, in the pounding of her heart whenever she sees Willam and the prickling of her skin when she brushes past.

Courtney would be a fool to pretend she didn’t know what was wrong. The musical the school had chosen to put on this year was one of Willam’s favourites, and when Courtney had snagged the lead role, Willam stormed off to wallow in her own jealousy. Courtney couldn’t believe Willam was stubborn enough to let such a meaningless situation worry her for so long, but at the same time, she herself didn’t know what to do about it. Willam wouldn’t do so much as look at her, not even when they were side-by-side on the stage, shivering under the scrutinising glare of their drama teacher.

“There,” Courtney gasps, pushing the last set board into the storage room. “That’s all of them, right?”

“Yep.” Bianca wipes her palms on her paint-splattered jeans. “Thanks for helping out.”

“My pleasure.” Courtney pauses, meeting Bianca’s hazelnut eyes. “How did you like the show?”

“How did I find it? Well, from the perspective of a crew member sitting backstage most of the time, you all sounded pretty good.”

Courtney visibly flushes, heat flooding her cheeks. “Shit, sorry. Stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bianca laughs, flashing her dimples. “Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Courtney waves as Bianca disappears through the backstage door. The auditorium is eerily quiet now that she’s the only one there; the shadows beneath the seats seem darker, the fluorescent lights too bright. She throws on her jacket as she exits out the front of the school, the cool air immediately brushing goosebumps over her skin. A flash of movement catches her attention, and she’s shocked to find Willam there, leaning casually against the school gate as she waits in the dark. She doesn’t acknowledge Courtney, staring resolutely out into the night instead.

Courtney decides that it can’t hurt to at least try at conversation. She sidles up next to Willam, struggling to keep a cool façade. Sometimes she wonders how Willam does it.

“What are you still doing here?” Courtney’s voice hardly sounds like her own, delicate and soft, as though Willam’s a wild animal she’s scared of chasing off. She wonders, briefly, if Willam will even respond.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Willam shrugs briskly, eyes looking anywhere but at Courtney.

“My parents couldn’t come ’til a little later, so I helped the crew pack up.”

“Good for you,” Willam snaps, crossing her arms. Courtney doesn’t miss the goosebumps crawling across her skin or the way she shivers, curling in closer to herself. “My folks forgot about me.”

Pity pierces Courtney’s heart like a knife, and the words spill out before she can stop them. “Come home with me,” she blurts out, immediately wishing she hadn’t said anything. “I-I mean, it’s probably easier, since – since you live so far away and all. I, uh… you look cold.” She finishes lamely, twisting the hem of her jacket in her fingers.

It feels like an eternity before Willam finally replies. Courtney’s heart skips a beat when Willam looks at her again, meeting her eyes for the first time in months. “Are you sure?” is all she says, and Courtney’s immediately nodding, hardly able to believe what’s happening.

“I… uh, thanks.” Willam drops her gaze again and Courtney wants nothing more than to tilt her chin up, stare into those stormcloud eyes and tell her it’s all okay. But she keeps her words to herself instead, letting herself wonder what Willam might say if she told her how much she missed her.

Willam, 6:26 pm: You see a pattern yet? ;) ;)

A pattern? Courtney’s already noticed how the stories have been in chronological order, but she thought it might’ve just been coincidence.

Wait. No.

Willam’s trail of paper rings has followed her usual post-work routine. Get a drink. Get changed, use the bathroom.

Eat dinner.

The next ring is in the kitchen.

Courtney dashes down the hall as fast as her tired legs will allow, nearly slipping on the polished wood floors. She scans the countertop and their small dining table, even going so far as to check every chair, but there is no sign of a small white ring. The seconds tick by as she stands alone, breathing quietly in the wash of artificial gold light.

Think, Courtney. Dinner. Dinner…

“The fridge!” she gasps aloud, nearly knocking her hip on the counter in her haste to get there. Last night’s leftover Chinese is still stashed away, ready to be reheated and eaten again.

Sure enough, the ring is there, perched atop the Tupperware container. Courtney feels a spark of triumph when she sees it. She’s getting the hang of Willam’s little game, unspoken rules cementing themselves in her mind.

Remember that game of Spin the Bottle, when we accidentally went from friends to this? Fate knew what it was doing when it put you in my lap.

The music pounds through Courtney’s bones, tremors in the ground sending shivers of adrenaline through her veins. The empty bottle glints in the dim light, beckoning her, and she closes her fingers around it.

The exhilaration is palpable, burning through every fibre of her body and fizzling in the air. It might just be a stupid party game, but it feels to Courtney like a time of exploration. Like this might be a little taste of freedom.

“Spin it! Spin it!” Alaska starts a low chant, and soon the others are joining in until there is a chorus of voices pressing in on Courtney’s skin.

She spins, and the room falls silent, everyone’s eyes on the whirling bottle. Courtney waits with bated breath as it slows, and stops, the narrow end pointing like a compass needle straight at…

Willam.

Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat, heart pounding at her ribs as though it wants to be set free. Willam beckons her over, eyebrows quirked playfully, and Courtney wonders how she looks so calm. Every inch of her skin feels like it’s burning as she crawls across the circle to sit beside her, just close enough for their skin to brush.

“What, are you scared?” Willam teases, and Courtney hears someone snicker.

“O-Of course not.” She’s struggling to keep her voice steady, gaze flickering from Willam’s face to the ground and back again.

“Pussy,” Willam whispers as she leans in, and Courtney shivers despite Willam’s hot breath on her skin, every touch burning through Courtney’s flesh.

And then their lips are meeting, and Courtney forgets how to think. She can’t remember how long she’s wanted this for – this moment, with Willam’s fingertips lightly tracing her jawline and her mouth against Courtney’s, is the only thing that’s ever seemed to matter.

All too soon they’re breaking apart. Willam’s leaning back again, pressing her palms to the floor as she smirks at Courtney. “How was that?”

Courtney doesn’t know how to speak, her heart in her throat as she replays the kiss over and over again in her mind. “Good,” she manages, voice quiet, hardly able to meet Willam’s eyes. She feels like she might be dreaming.

“You suck, Willam,” Bianca laughs, snapping Courtney back to reality. “She’s not impressed at all!”

Willam scowls. “She said it was good, you bitch!”

“Yeah, ’cause she’s too nice to tell you otherwise!”

The rest of the circle erupts into shrieks of laughter, and Courtney feels her cheeks burn. She feels sorry for Willam, but she doesn’t have the words to tell her that it was probably one of the best things to ever happen to her.

So she says nothing at all, slinking wordlessly back to her side of the circle instead.

Courtney drives Willam home that night. Willam is uncharacteristically quiet, sitting with her arms folded as she stares out the window.

“Willam,” Courtney finally says, eyes still on the road. “Are you okay?”

She catches Willam’s shrug in her peripheral vision. A moment’s silence passes between them, Willam shifting quietly in her seat.

“Yeah,” she finally says. “I was just… thinking.”

“About what?” Courtney prompts her, pulling the car into a right-hand turn.

“The kiss. I… was it really that bad?”

Courtney is so startled she nearly swerves into the gutter. Swallowing back a gasp, she pulls over to park, twisting around to give Willam her full attention.

Willam’s frowning, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Wow. Way to say yes, Courtney.”

“I – no, I – uh, that’s not what I meant,” she stammers, hating to see Willam like this. “It was… it was actually really good. Like… really good.” She falters. Her words aren’t coming to her, slipping away like sand through her fingers. The truth feels like too much, but saying anything else doesn’t feel like enough.

She’s right – Willam hardly looks convinced. “You don’t need to lie, Courtney, I can take it,” she says, voice harder now, and Courtney worries she’s offended.

“Yeah, but, that’s the thing. I’m not lying,” Courtney insists. Why does this have to be so difficult?

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to do. You can do this. You’re brave enough. She repeats the words over and over in her head, leaning across the console to take Willam’s hand. Blood is pounding in her ears as she rests her other hand against Willam’s neck, pulling her closer. Willam’s eyes flash in realisation and she leans closer without prompting, letting Courtney press their lips together again. This kiss is soft and careful, as fragile and delicate as a butterfly’s wing. Willam seems to melt into Courtney’s touch, muscles relaxing beneath warm, tanned skin.

“I love your kisses the most,” Courtney whispers against Willam’s mouth as they pull apart to breathe. She feels Willam draw back slightly, her fingers still absentmindedly tracing Courtney’s jawline.

“Then why were you so weird about it at the party?” Willam’s eyes are downcast, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Guilt stabs at Courtney’s chest. She fumbles for her words, the silence pressing heavily in on her. “I…” She doesn’t know how to say it, but knows that she should. “I really, really like you, Willam.”

She’s settled for something simple, and it does the job. Willam rears backwards as though she’s been slapped, her eyes flaring wide open in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, really really really,” Courtney manages to giggle despite her thundering heart.

“No, I mean, I – are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, you idiot.” Courtney’s gaze is locked on Willam’s, her fingers tangling gently in Willam’s cascading curls. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Willam just shakes her head, and Courtney doesn’t miss the wonder in her eyes. “Can… can I kiss you again?” she whispers, pulling Courtney closer before she even gets the chance to nod. Their lips collide roughly, teeth clicking together, but Courtney thinks it’s perfect.

“I really like you, too,” Willam gasps between kisses. “Really, really, really.”

Courtney’s silent, too caught up in Willam’s lips to respond. She lets months of desperate, bottled-up feeling release themselves against Willam’s touch, wordlessly showing Willam how her confession made her heart skip faster, heat spreading through her skin like honey.

She doesn’t know how long they sit there for, tangled up in each other. Courtney feels warm and soft, like kissing Willam has washed her clean, made her new.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Willam asks softly against her cheek, and Courtney wonders how she ever got to be so lucky.

Remember the road trip we went on, when I asked if we might be forever? I’m no poet, but I remember how the setting sun turned your hair to fire and I wondered how someone could look so beautiful.

They’re sitting on the roof of the car, fingers interlocked as they stare out over the ocean. The trees whisper in the twilight breeze, cicadas chirping from their branches, but Courtney hardly notices. She only wants to think about Willam, sitting comfortably beside her, her head resting on Courtney’s shoulder.

The sun is casting orange streaks across the water and turning the clouds to wisps of flame. This sunset feels different somehow; more special. Maybe it’s the endless tangerine sky. Maybe it’s Willam.

“Courtney,” Willam murmurs suddenly, “do you think we could last forever?”

Courtney, taken aback by her unusual softness, twists around to face her. Willam pulls herself upright, eyes on Courtney’s face.

“I…” Courtney takes a moment, sifting carefully through her words. “I’d like us to.”

“So would I,” Willam agrees quietly.

A beat of silence hovers between them. Courtney traces her thumb over Willam’s knuckles.

“I love you, Willam,” she says finally.

It’s a gentle confession, as light as a butterfly landing on Willam’s nose. She smiles like Courtney’s just kissed her, eyes lighting up like a torch in the dark.

“I love you too, Courtney.”

Remember when we first moved in and you made me breakfast? It was perfect, and that Monday felt a little less awful.

Courtney’s awake with the sunrise, standing in the dove-grey light of the kitchen as breakfast fizzles on the stove. The morning is dreamy and soft, and the house is warm despite the frost bordering the windowpanes. The kitchen still feels homely, and the silence is heavy and comfortable despite her lack of company. She knows Willam is just down the hall, rolled up in a nest of blankets with her hair spilling out in golden waves onto her pillow.

The image makes Courtney smile as she cooks the bacon. She’s not used to preparing meat, as she never eats it, but Willam makes strange things worth it.

The calm that surrounds her is immediately shattered by a series of crashing sounds followed by a chain of expletives. Courtney whirls around in time to see Willam staggering down the hallway, her pajama shirt sliding down one shoulder.

“Fucking hell. Courtney? …Oh, there you are.” Wandering closer, Willam wraps her arms around Courtney’s waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck.

“What just happened?” Courtney asks, running delicate fingers through Willam’s messy curls.

“I fell off the fucking bed.” Willam’s voice is still thick and raspy with sleep. “Right before my alarm was gonna go off.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Willam retorts affectionately, pulling herself back upright. “What were you doing, anyways?”

“Making breakfast.” The bacon’s done now; Courtney shuts the flame off, piling the strips of meat onto a plate. “There. For you.”

The smile that lights up Willam’s eyes sends warm honey flowing through Courtney’s veins. She presses a kiss to Willam’s cheek before handing her a set of cutlery. “Enjoy. Coffee’ll be ready in a tick.”

Willam doesn’t move for several moments, standing in the kitchen watching Courtney work. “You’re amazing,” she finally says, sounding awestruck. “So fucking amazing.”

Courtney giggles as a rosy blush tints her cheeks. “Just go eat,” she says, pouring the coffee. She adds the milk carefully, determined to make this exactly the way Willam likes it.

“Is it okay?” she asks tentatively as she sets the coffee down. The bacon isn’t perfect, and she knows it – it’s a little crisp and burnt around the edges. She just needs to know if it’s edible.

“I love it,” Willam replies, her tired eyes bright, and Courtney’s face relaxes into a smile.

The next ring is a command.

There aren’t any more memories of their early days together. Instead, there are six short words.

Go back to where we confessed.

Courtney steps outside and the light flickers on, casting the shadows of distracted moths across the stone. The car is hardly more than a silhouette in the driveway, lumpy and distorted and strange. Upbeat music starts playing as she waits, briefly, for her eyes to adjust.

“The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed…”

The song is familiar, the ride home from work echoing back in Courtney’s mind as she approaches the car.

And there’s Willam, sitting cross-legged on the roof. She looks gorgeous in the moonlight, her skin lit up with silver, and Courtney’s breath hitches in her throat. She’s stunning, and Courtney’s overjoyed to see her. Willam fiddles with her hands in her lap, reaching up to gingerly tuck a strand of starlit hair behind her ear.

“Hey, Courtney.” She slides off the car, heels clicking gently on the stone as she stands and presses a gentle kiss to Courtney’s cheek. “Did you like the rings?” Her grin is playful, but Courtney doesn’t miss the nervousness in her eyes.

“Loved them,” Courtney replies, sliding her arms around Willam’s waist and pulling her close. “But I still love you more.” Her lips graze the edge of Willam’s mouth, and she feels Willam’s breathy sigh on her skin, her back stiffening beneath Courtney’s touch. Standing straight again, Courtney meets Willam’s eyes, holding her gaze for a moment. “What are we doing out here, anyways?” she asks, poking Willam’s cheek. “I know you’re planning something.”

“You’re so daft,” Willam tells her, arms around her shoulders. “I thought it would be obvious.”

“You brought me back through memories that defined our relationship,” Courtney murmurs wistfully, eyes darting towards the car. “Are you going to take me back to all the special places too?”

“I mean, that’s a good idea, but – Courtney, did you even listen to the song?”

Courtney pouts. “You know I suck at remembering lyrics.”

“Okay, yeah, not gonna lie – you really do.” Willam lets out a fraught giggle, and Courtney wonders why she’s acting so strange. She seems stiff, worried – not quite the easygoing person Courtney’s come to love. They stand quietly for a moment, and Courtney hunts for clues in Willam’s features, surrounded only by Taylor Swift’s light, cheerful voice reaching the song’s chorus.

“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that’s right

Darling, you’re the one I want…”

It hits her just as Willam steps back and drops to one knee. There’s a small, black box in her palm, and she opens it as she raises it towards Courtney.

“Let me make tonight the next step for us,” she begins, and Courtney can only stand and stare at her through blurring eyes, her mind struggling to process what’s happening.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Willam continues, her voice choking up with emotion, and Courtney can see the tears glistening silver at the corners of her eyes. “I want to go through the rest of my life with you beside me. I want this to be our symbol of forever. Will you marry me, Courtney?”

Courtney’s voice is shaky, throat rasping with emotion as she responds. “Yes,” she gasps, smiling so wide her cheeks start to ache. Cool silver brushes her skin as Willam slides the ring onto her finger, and then she’s squealing in delight as Willam tackles her, picking her up and spinning her around.

“I love you, Willam,” Courtney whispers as Willam puts her down again, their bodies close as they stand, entangled in the moonlight. “I love you so, so much.”

Willam doesn’t respond, instead pressing her lips to Courtney’s. The kiss is salty with joyous tears, and Courtney feels electric, her body warm despite the cool breeze. The music is still playing in the background, steady rhythms humming through the perfect night.

“Kiss me once ’cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ’cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ’cause you waited your whole life…”

#rpdr fanfiction #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #bianca del rio #witney #fluff #lesbian au #tw minor drug use #concrit welcome #submission #cheetah

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