#actuallyawkward!reader

[princesscrter]

hiiii! im here requesting more brian o’conner because hey, i love him, so…

would u be so willing to dive into more actuallyawkward!reader with brian on a date together? like he can tell reader’s obviously super anxious but still excited, and he does everything to make sure they have a good time together!

thanku sm 💌 keep being u, i love ur works!!!!

hiiiiii!!! i’ve been MIA recently bc of school and work but i would love to do something like this soon!! thank you for asking🫶🏼

[princesscrter]

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hiiii lovelies!! i’m so sorry that i’ve been mia lately☹️☹️ school is kicking my ass💔💔

but i’m hoping to have some new content up soon!! thank yall for the patience and all of the love🫶🏼

[princesscrter]

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“you want me to rev your engine?”

jax teller x actuallyawkward!reader !

tw: one (1) sexual innuendo, some sexual references but not super graphic? reader is trying their best™️ at making conversation, jax is amused and somehow turned on, set in season one bc im still new, and reader’s uncle is also trying his best™️.

jax teller. VP of the local motorcycle club that seems more like a cult from the outside, excellent mechanic, and stupid hot. you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man that handsome in real life, not even with some of the guys at your college classes. and they’re all relatively good looking. but, not like jax.

what makes it worse? your uncle loves to cozy up with the sons— always parading you around at every gathering he can. “they’re so smart, y’know? if y’all need any help around the shop with bookkeeping, they’d be happy to help!” he beams, clapping at your shoulders with pride as you squirm under the intense gaze of a few sons. one of them, a long-bearded man, is softer; like he can feel the awkwardness radiating from you. clay smiled right back at your uncle, “eh, what the hell? you’re getting in the ring, kiddo.”

jesus christ, why would your uncle do that?! to torture you with public humiliation, force you into a job surrounded by some of the sexiest yet scariest men you’ve ever met. the first few weeks were nerve-wracking, with you barely being able to balance the books without being interrupted by one of them. it didn’t matter which one! juice, as you know now him, loved to munch on potato chips while peering over your shoulder. irritating, to say the least. tigger, the creeper, always makes comments that are just sly enough to leave you wondering if he’s flirting or if he’s trying to piss you off.

the bearded man, opie, is chill. he treats you like a baby cousin, poking at your temple and always making sure donna packs him an extra cookie to share with you. clay leers over the garage, like he’s waiting for a customer or one of the newer mechanics to make you upset. you’re not sure why, but it’s probably because your uncle told him all about your inability to hold a proper conversation. and then… there’s jax.

you know he’s a ladies’ man. it’s obvious in the way he saunters into the garage, his voice stuck in a constant drawl that makes your knees weak. every day, jax greets you with an underwear-dropping smile and a “hey, darlin’. you doin’ good today?” your responses have gotten much better since your first day, a slight progression from full on stammers to barely even stuttering through three sentences! it’s a win in your book, and besides, you’re the only one in charming who’d even been interviewed and hired for the bookkeeping position. the sons’ matriarch, gemma, usually took care of it, yet she seemed to have no issue with you taking over.

“it’s nice to not have that bullshit weighing me down. let me know if anyone gets mouthy… or handsy. clay and i will take care of it.” she mentions off-handedly one morning, and before you can even ask what she means, gemma is already setting off to yell at one of the prospects. okay then…

you show up for work that morning like normal— already a little bit brighter than normal. a good eight hours of sleep, and a new episode of criminal minds premiered tonight! who could really deny themselves the sexiness that is SSA derek morgan? elated, you settle into your chair and immediately begin flipping through different bookings for today. a ménage of oil changes, a breakline repair on big otto’s daughter-in-law’s car, and a surprise tire rotation for an out-of-town fire chief. light work, in your opinion, and certainly for whoever else is working today.

humming softly, you fail to notice jax swaggering into the garage while searching for a phone number on file for the fire chief. his blue eyes take the time to rake over your figure; because you always seemed to show up to work and look so damn good. even in the baggy jeans and slouchy t-shirts, jax can’t ignore a pretty face or a pretty body. he’s a man, it’s just how he is. jax whistled, “mornin’, babe. you seem happy today.” you flinch a little when you hear him, your eyes flickering up to look at jax briefly. ugh, why did he have to be so hot?! “hey, jax. jus’ had a nice night, and i’m hopin’ tonight will be the same!”

jax teller did not want to explain where exactly his mind went when you answered him. a nice night? the fuck did that mean? a nice night for him means not having to make a run, and then hopefully find someone to suck him off. oh, oh. jax knows you’ve never mentioned a boyfriend, so in his head, there’s only one answer. suddenly, he’s picturing you sprawled out in your bed, hands traveling down to the waistband of your underwear and just as you’re about to slip into your—

“jax? are you listening? sorry if i bored you with my criminal minds rant! i just can’t wait for this new episode.” you apologized quickly, as jax snapped out of his thoughts. sinful, utterly sinful, even more so when your uncle is a good friend of the club. he shakes his head with a smile, “nah, darlin’, you’re good. what’s so special about that show anyway? if you want real action, you should just come to a party here with some of the other clubs. can get pretty wild.” instantly, you’re gaping at him. there are plenty of reasons as to why criminal minds is special! you just happen to have six… with an offended look, “um, hello? shemar moore? the six pack? the best addition to television since MTV.”

what jax really wants to do is lift up his shirt and flash his own six pack at you, (and it’s more like an eight pack these days!) that would 100% get you going, and you’d forget all about some fake cop on a tv show. jax leans his elbows on the counter, his head slightly peeking over the top. wow, he’s even better looking up close, and you feel the softest hint of insecurity hit you. his eye contact never wavers, even as you begin to stammer out another defense. you offer a polite grin, “thanks for the offer, but i’d rather not deal with guys revving their engines all the time. i’ve always wondered why you guys seem to like it, because it doesn’t seem that exciting to me, i guess.”

you’re simply not prepared for what comes out of jax teller’s mouth. “you want me to rev your engine? you’ll find out real quick how exciting it can be.” he said it so casually that you could feel your eyes physically stop blinking every so often. (it’s a habit since being around him is… an experience.) what the actual fuck? even if jax said it as easy as he’d light a cigarette, you weren’t stupid. you noticed how his eyes widened when he asked, gauging your reaction while he messed with the rings on his fingers.

‘this is a joke. he has to be kidding.’ the tiny angel on your shoulder tries to reason with you, while the cartoonish devil concocts an elaborate scene of you and jax tangled together in the sheets. jax recognizes this pretty quick. there’s no cringey quip back that he’ll immediately deem adorable, and for you; easily excited, motormouth, sometimes-overwhelming you? that’s a feat! “are you joking with me? ‘cause i feel like i missed the mark here.” you question, gesturing to yourself with a flick of the wrist.

when jax snorts, you’re sure of his answer. ‘of course it’s a joke, babe. you can be so gullible.’ the mere idea of it makes your stomach churn. he’s jax teller! why on earth would he say that to you and it not be a joke? jax clicked his tongue, “i’m not sure yet. it’s funny that i getcha all riled up, but it’s kinda cute too. i wouldn’t mind lending two very helpful hands.”

there isn’t any time for you to react. tigger and opie start strolling through the garage towards their stations, while juice rummages around in a bag of gummy bears. “morning, VP! sec, you’re looking good this morning.” tiggy greeted the both of you, and you’re still frozen. jax waved him off— while also ignoring opie’s curious gaze from across the garage. jax gives you a once-over quickly, then pushes himself off of the counter. with a bright smile, “gonna get busy now. ‘m serious, though. you need any hands-on help, i’m available.” with that, jax sauntered off to where opie was, and you’re still sat in your spinny chair.

‘well, that’s nice to know.’

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ac speaks!

hello hello! what do we think? more of them or would you prefer jax with grumpy? i’d love to know🥹

[princesscrter]

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“you might’ve loved them, but you didn’t like them.”

rafe cameron x actuallyawkward!reader , sarah cameron x actuallyawkward!reader !

tw: confrontation, arguing, canon!rafe, reader finally accepting themselves for who they are (yay), mentions of depressive behaviors/episodes, rafe’s canonical daddy issues and drug abuse… sarah being an absolute angel to reader <3

the word spread fast— like a winter cold that confines you to the bed. rafe cameron fucked up. and he fucked up bad. well, to those who didn’t fall for the propaganda of a perfect cameron heir. desperate finance bros still held rafe in the highest regard, and sorority girls flocked to him since he was freshly available. yet, rafe didn’t seem interested in either cluster of groupies. he didn’t seem interested in anything at all.

rafe’s confined in his connected bathroom, hunching over the counter like he’s about to throw up. there’s this itch, this tantalizing sensation of spiders crawling up his legs and fusing together beneath the tanned skin. his hands shake, a weak attempt to reach for the knob and run his face under the cold water. waterboarding seems like a viable option, yet rafe knows he couldn’t do it himself. too much time, too much effort. he doubles back to what he’s familiar with; another little packet of white residue that makes it all go away. he doesn’t even remember your name, or the way your fingertips traced his collarbones when you laid together. you’re just another failure on his long list of disappointments.

you, however, seem to be healing. forever the awkward homebody, you don’t make appearances often, but it still shocks the young adult population on the island. there are no excessive under eye circles, or hair that frays from the slightest touch. you aren’t rafe cameron’s little pet any longer, just a cross between a ghost and a survivor. how on earth did you make it out? you don’t have a clue. stroke of luck, guardian angel, or whatever else the kids want to conjure up. you’ve always been you.

your parents, albeit annoyed that you’ve returned home so quickly, are somewhat relieved. the cameron family is infamous around the island, they don’t want you mixed up with something like that. even if it means dealing with your presence again. you know you’ve never been the favorite kid, but it still stings. you feel the same way about rafe. sure, he sucked and everyone could see it, yet you couldn’t find yourself splitting away from him. like how the muscle still works once the limb is gone. there’s remnants of him everywhere, and there isn’t much to do about it. the only way through is to outlive it.

“hey.” going to a kegger at the boneyard wasn’t your greatest choice, but there wasn’t anything new on the history channel and your parents seemed annoyed that you were even existing outside of your room. so, when sarah cameron waltzed up, you knew you fucked yourself. sarah notices the way your shoulders immediately tense, and how your eyes scan the beach for any sign of him. she offered a smile, “d-don’t worry, he’s not here. pretty sure he’s on a coke binge.” the middle cameron’s always been the easygoing one— the kook princess who could charm her way through anything. you consistently wondered if it ever got exhausting, to be so accessible at all times. it wasn’t until you got with rafe that you got a snippet of that feeling; that icy numbness covering you like a jacket that doesn’t fit anymore. uncomfortable, feeling like you don’t fit in your own skin.

“sarah, i don’t mean to be harsh, but… there’s no reason for you to talk to me. ‘m not with rafe anymore so we can just, i dunno, go back to being strangers? not cut out for either side of this dumbass turf war anyway.” you say. sarah’s left hand twitches, sloshing cheap beer onto the sand and trailing down her forearm. she’s wearing a tiffany ring, only in gold because that’s just what cameron’s wore.

sarah thought that no one could ever know rafe like she did. like their dad did. his irritation that blossomed when he was just a kid, the yearning for ward to do anything with him. then, the drugs once he got to junior year. just cheap shit at first, molly and a little bit of K. after? cocaine, experimenting with dealers like barry who owned way more spoons than the average american. then, you came along.

the awkward, afraid-to-move-wrong you. it seemed like you could walk on eggshells just fine, and that’s what rafe was. what rafe is. there isn’t any light left in him, sarah believes. but, you made it seem like there was— even if it was just the fluorescence that follows you in the dentist office or in the grocery store.

“i jus’ wanted to see how you’re doing. and that i’m really happy that you left. i know he had his good moments, but he’s not a good guy. you shouldn’t have been caught up in hurricane rafe. and i feel like i let you.” she speaks quickly, as if daring to utter his name will summon him from the depths of hell. you aren’t incredibly sure, because if anyone could find a way, it’d be him. it’s nice, almost endearing to know that sarah takes blame for allowing the relationship to happen. you both know it’s not true, yet you don’t rush to correct her. there’s a silence that plagues the two of you— managing to drown out the noise of blaring music and boisterous laughter.

you don’t how to answer the question of “how are you doing?” you’re straddling the fence of past and present, only a few skips away from the future. but you can’t get down. there’s still a little bit of hope in you. that maybe he didn’t mean all the things he said that night, or even all the other mornings, noons, and nights. the worst part? you know it’s not true. no matter how big of a gap between yesterday and today. he’s controlling, and he’s arrogant, and he doesn’t care about anyone. not himself, and certainly not you.

sarah realizes how your eyes aren’t as narrow now, softening as you stare at her. your arms fall to your sides, there’s no need to protect yourself from anything. “i’m just… here. i’m here a-and i’m healthy and uh, i’m outta the hurricane. that’s enough for me. for right now.” you finally respond, voice trembling like a ripple in the sea. it’s an eerie moment, how the seconds it took for you answer sarah’s question felt like hours. the way miller lite clung to the air and made it difficult to breathe. she pauses, before she nods at you slowly. in one swift move, her red solo cup is tossed carelessly to the ground— in true cameron fashion. then? sarah’s arms stretch out towards you, and you can’t find it in yourself to hold back. sarah, you notice, is warm-blooded. it’s comforting, even with her chin digging into your shoulder and her tight grip. at least it’s real, and that’s more than you ever got with him.

like the news of the breakup, sarah cameron’s unexpected hug was the shot heard around the world. rafe, of course, is the first to know. he’s got eyes and ears scattered around the island; and the fact that his own sister would dare approach you is baffling. it’s just rafe and sarah at tannyhill— ward at a business meeting on the mainland, rose and wheezie busying themselves with upcoming events for back-to-school. she’s in the kitchen once he finally lays eyes on her, humming a song he doesn’t know while making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. her favorite since they were kids.

“you, uh, wanna explain to me why you were talkin’ to my ex? ‘cus i really don’t think it’s your place to play nancy drew and find out what happened between us.” rafe asks, rubbing at his nose with his fingers. he’s been using too much; the nosebleeds and the sleepless nights are haunting his life. sarah let out a huff, the butter knife clattering down on the countertop. she shrugged, “i can talk to whoever i want. and we didn’t even talk about you, so… i dunno what you want me to say.”

there’s a sharp pang in his chest, was sarah serious? surely, you must’ve talked about him. what else was there? you were too well-off for the pogues, too poor for the kooks. a freak of nature, he believed. rafe scoffs— clicking his tongue in disbelief. “nah, nah, don’t lie to me, sare. what did you fuckin’ say to them, huh? that they were stupid to even get with me? t-that i’m the worst person alive and i would’ve drained them dry?!”

sarah notices the way her brother starts to whip his head around, searching for an anchor who’s not there anymore. you’re gone, long gone and he chose it. not you. the lines and the partying and the drinking all come back to him; rafe cameron and his inexplicable thirst for something, for anything. when she fails to answer, rafe laughs as if he couldn’t fathom what was going on. “what’d they tell you, hmm? that i treated them like fuckin’ dirt? well, they fuckin’ let me, so i dunno what the animosity is about. i gave them everything, every damn thing i could and they were too scared to say thanks! i loved them better than anyone ever could.”

she never thought he’d admit the quiet part out loud. rafe cameron picked you because he knew no one else would ever make you feel loved. not even the only people you had, your parents. sarah inches towards the plate, her eyes never leaving rafe’s face. he’s red in his cheeks, skin peeling around his nose and sarah knows what that means. he’s losing it, and she’s not sure when he’ll hit the bottom.

“you might’ve loved them, but you didn’t like them. that’s why they left, rafe. it’s not anyone’s problem but yours.” sarah’s voice cut through the air, and stopped rafe in his tracks. he doesn’t move to crack his knuckles, or run a hand through his greasy hair. rafe stands still, like one of the little action figures you always talked about before. they were your dad’s, you weren’t allowed to move them. rafe couldn’t imagine what that felt like, until now.

all rafe can hear are sarah’s footsteps up the stairs and the ringing in his ears. is it true? was that how people saw you and him? like an obsessive doll collector and his new favorite piece? no, no, that couldn’t be it, there was no way! rafe loves you, even if you basically damned him to hell and left without any goodbye. his baby, his sweetheart who tried. you tried so hard, and he didn’t even notice. didn’t care to notice. what did it matter now?

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ac speaks!

hi! this is sorta part two to the first rafe and actuallyawkward!reader, but it’s more focused on reader following the fallout. and i wanted to incorporate sarah in some fashion bc you KNOW that she hated how rafe treated reader but couldn’t do much :(((

[princesscrter]

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another moodboard for actuallyawkward!reader !

top left: a shirt that actuallyawkward!reader would 100% wear! they most likely thrifted it or made the shirt themselves!

top right: a mirage of snapshots from an eighties photoshoot that they definitely have hanging in their room! they like the color palette and the borders the most, and it definitely compliments their room!

middle right: a live photo of their bedroom! always messily organized, but is actually clean during this photo being taken… lots of posters and stickers along the walls, and random trinkets spread throughout their room. it’s their safe space!

bottom right: a drawing that basically encapsulates their entire existence. despite having a solid friend group, reader still feels like they could get lost in their playlist and no one would notice… it used to really bother them, but now that they’ve started daydreaming about dean winchester being there, it’s not so bad!

bottom middle: another photo that’s basically their aesthetic visualized. readers LOVES any aesthetic that is based around early 2000s vibes, like frutiger aero or frutiger metro!

bottom left: if reader could be any fictional character, they’d be charlie brown. they’ve seen every movie, have all the pop funkos, and definitely will fight someone if they claim snoopy as their favorite animated character.

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ac speaks!

hiiiii!! i’m not too sure if i should do another part to the rafe/actuallyawkward!reader pairing or if i should work on something for grumpy!reader🫶🏼

if there’s a specific character or situation you’d like, please let me know!!! ok ilysm byeeeee

[princesscrter]

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“and for that, you’re worse than i’ll ever be.”

rafe cameron x actuallyawkward!reader !

cw: arguing, toxic relationship, canon!rafe, self deprecation on reader’s part, mentions of sexual activity but not detailed, drug usage, rafe’s anger issues, rafe’s daddy issues.

it just seemed like you couldn’t do anything right today. well, you couldn’t do anything right most days, by rafe’s standards. you were too talkative one moment, then he’s getting on you for not speaking up for yourself. he doesn’t like shorts that are too short, yet he’s angry when you forego shorts and wear pants instead. there’s no winning. just rafe, dangling a carrot of stability and comfort over your head.

and it’s not like you don’t try to fit in with rafe and his kook world. you’re diligent in making conversation when it’s something you find interesting— like topper’s work with a nonprofit that advocates for harsher penalties surrounding animal cruelty. you nod along to whatever girlfriends of the group are conversing about, even if it’s about the renovations of their winter chalet. you always remember your table manners, and you’re getting better at keeping up appearances of being rafe cameron’s perfect partner.

still, there’s this nagging feeling of rafe not really wanting a partner at all. he’s pushy, manipulative, the kind of man who throws a tantrum if he’s not in total control. that feeling lingers— like the burn of whiskey in your throat when you take too big of a sip. it’s clear to you, and everyone else, that you’re just there for theatrics. to prop rafe cameron up for even greater attention and affection. you feel like the vintage action figures in your dad’s office. you’re meant for display, not to be touched other than parading around.

his room in tannyhill is quiet, other than the splattering of water from the shower and the low volume of some cop show rafe turned on. laying on the bed, you flip between tiktok and instagram. nothing satiates you, not even the tiktok slideshow of ‘your month, your outdated meme.’ then, rafe emerges from his bathroom and you don’t even spare him a glance.

“sure you don’t wanna shower, baby? i bought that stupid native shit you’re always usin’. dunno why you wanna smell like coconut and vanilla.” his sharp voice slices the air, while you try to answer. your mouth feels fuzzy, as if you’ve just swallowed cotton balls and you’ve got no water to wash it down. rafe barely gets his sweatpants on before he’s spinning around quick enough to break his spine. he’s in front of you in a split second— blue eyes holding you captive from even looking away.

rafe breathes out through his nose, “a-are you pissed at me or somethin’? cause i haven’t done shit to you today. i didn’t say anything when you knocked over the vase at the club, even though you made a fuckin’ fool out of you and me. i let you play your dumbass beanie baby or whatever her name is in the truck.”

confrontation isn’t new with rafe. he’s always searching for a reason to go after someone, even with you. especially with you. why? you have your theories. daddy issues, undiagnosed anxiety, coke-induced stress. you’re good at taking it. you’re trained to just nod your head ‘no,’ to reassure him with lingering touches to his biceps or an impromptu blowjob. but, you’re growing tired.

the way he flips the switch so easily. like he’s not worried about the repercussions. he’s rafe cameron, heir to the cameron empire. who’s gonna put him in his place? ward doesn’t look at him long enough to care, and the pogues can’t afford a lawyer or jailtime. certainly not you. his partner, his sweetheart. the one he can scream at for being so fuckin’ stupid, and then get between your legs as an apology.

“why are you so mean to me?” you ask, your eyes never moving away from him. rafe scoffed, clicking his tongue and starting to wring his hands out. he’s wearing that gold one on his pinky finger. you bought it for him with some money you saved up for his birthday. you’ll never forget the way he tossed it to the side so carelessly once his birthday party ended— like it wasn’t worth the effort to look at. rafe might wear it now, but you can’t let go of that feeling. wanting your bones to collapse in, and you just melt.

there’s a few beats of silence after. you’re cringing, awaiting some type of retaliation. verbal, physical, anything. rafe hasn’t ever hit you, but… you know that punching through drywall and throwing knickknacks around isn’t normal behavior. “you think i’m mean to you? i’m mean? why the fuck are you here then, huh? i’m so mean, i’m such an asshole, why don’t you go find someone who’s all flowers and sunshine?” his questions are rhetorical, and you know it. you can’t give him an answer. because he’s right.

you’re not exactly the most wanted person on the island. kooks think you’re too weird, too much of an idiot to interact with. they tolerate you with the hopes of landing themselves in rafe’s good graces. the pogues aren’t exactly welcoming either. you’re a liability for all their illegal activities, the kind of person who could be easily swayed by the promise of freedom or lesser punishment. sometimes, you wonder why if that’s why rafe picked you.

slowly, you move from the bed, keeping enough distance between you and him. rafe cocks his head to the side, like he’s questioning your entire existence. he chuckled, “what? you gonna leave? gonna put your big kid pants on and break up with me? huh? good. can’t believe i wasted my fuckin’ time on you. y’know what, i’m happy for ya. you can take your weirdo ass and get the fuck out!”

there’s not much of your things to gather. a tote bag with a few bobbles, a book or two. you don’t even bother with putting your shoes on. but, just as you go to brush past him and leave tannyhill for good, his hand clasps in yours. there’s the switch again.

rafe was bluffing. he didn’t think you’d actually have the gall to leave, to break up with him. you’d always been the one to apologize first, the first one to forget what happened. he dangled it over your head in later arguments, but still. you stayed. that was much more than ward had ever done. how could he lose you? you’re the only thing that’s really his. you’re the person he comes home to every night, the one who cares for him after an argument with ward or a bad batch of coke.

“baby… fuck, i wasn’t serious. c’mon, it’s not a big deal. we can just forget about it, okay? go on and shower and i’ll pop some popcorn, a-and we’ll watch that werewolf show you like.”

he’s pleading. he’s doing that kicked puppy look that traps you every single time. but, you can’t do much more of this. the back and forth, the switch flipping. you hadn’t thought much of the future, but you wouldn’t want your kids to grow up like this. walking on eggshells, terrified of disappointing someone who’s supposed to love them. your parents weren’t the greatest, but they never made you feel like rafe does. ever.

you inhale quick, knowing that once you say it, you’re done for. no more wonderful rafe cameron and his devoted partner. you know, to your core, it isn’t worth it. “i know i’m weird, and i’m embarrassing, and i can’t do anything right. at least i try to do right by myself, by you. you can’t do that. and for that, you’re worse than i’ll ever be.”

rafe cameron could actually hear his heart break. he didn’t think you had it in you. he thought you’d cave, everything forgotten as you settled in bed with him and a bowl of popcorn between you. when rafe doesn’t move or say anything, you seize the moment. just as soon as you slip out of his bedroom and flee tannyhill, rafe shuts the door softly. then? he turns to his nightstand, taking out a little baggie and cuts a line.

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ac speaks:

hiii!! second post, and it’s also obx!! i see a lot of rafe content on here, and most are about fanon!rafe, which i adore, but i do think there needs to be some canon!rafe as well. so, here we are!! i really wanted to write something where reader stands up for themselves bc that can be hard to find!! please let me know what you think and if you want more🫶🏼

[princesscrter]

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“i like ya when you’re all zen.”

jj maybank x actuallyawkward!reader!

cw: none? pet names, slight mention of anxiety. just pure fluff between jj and the lovely reader!

the chateau is silent— save for the low humming of the run-down ac and cicadas chirping outside. you’re nervous, there’s no way around that. jj’s been staying with john b forever, and he had no reason to go back to his own place. yet, you can feel yourself vibrating as jj leads you through the chateau to his room.

“jb’s out with the princess, kie decided to spend the day researching microplastics and pope’s… fuck if i know. so, it’s jus’ you n’ me, baby.” jj’s slight southern drawl echoed off the wooden walls, while he flung himself on the bed. your knees buckle slightly— being alone with jj isn’t new for you. you’ve been here plenty of times. it’s just… different now. you’re not just friends anymore, but rather this weird limbo of ‘dating but not really’ that makes your stomach turn. your voice quivers softly, “o-okay. uh, did you wanna get, like, snacks or anything? ‘m sure johnny doesn’t have much, but sandwiches with mayo and bananas aren’t so bad!”

jj throws his head back, guffawing at your statement. you’d always been a little weird, the kinda weird that made him question whether or not you were from this planet. but, things shifted over the years. sure, you were still you: all toothy smiles and racked with conspiracy theories that seemed ridiculous to everyone, including him. now? jj can’t seem to have enough of you. he needs a fix of whatever book you’re reading that he’s sure doesn’t exist in a language he understands, (which is just english,) or the way your hands don’t really know where to go when he pulls you in tight for a hug.

he pushes himself up on his elbows, sitting up straight and his hands going immediately to your hips. in the split second those blue eyes meet yours, you’re rendered useless. this whole… ‘being together but not exactly’ thing frightens you, but you can’t really help but feel like you and jj exist outside of the cut. like you’re both stars in the galaxy, filled with blinding light and a ferocity that’s hard to contain. (well, jj’s that kind. you’re not too sure about yourself.)

“y’know, i like it when you’re all jittery n’ shit. makes me feel like i got some affect on you.” jj murmured.

a chuckle escapes your lips, but it suddenly feels like your tongue is too heavy for your mouth. your shoulders shrug, “i, uh, don’t really know how to respond to that. i mean, it’s not like you don’t have an affect on me. cause you definitely do, i just… scratch that, reverse! jesus fuckin’ christ, did i actually just say that?”

a tell-tale sign of you getting flustered is the way your voice gets higher in pitch as you talk. jj always thought it was adorable, and worked especially well when trying to scheme any adult the pogues ran into. he laughs again, and you wish that you could shrink yourself into something else. something smaller, something that isn’t so… present. you squint your eyes shut, attempting to hide yourself away from jj maybank and his smoldering stare. a feather-light kiss to your wrist causes you to blink one eye open— like an american girl doll with a fucked up eye-joint.

“you flatter me, honey. but i like ya when you’re all zen. when you don’t worry about sayin’ the right thing, and you’re just… you. my lil’ oddball.” jj’s voice holds a speck of tenderness that you’ve never really heard before. usually, he’s the loudmouth— the kinda guy you need when you’re hustling a game of pool. the next two seconds or so are spent trying to figure out how you can be ‘zen,’ coming up short after thinking of crush from finding nemo. jj, however, catches you off guard. in one swift motion, you’re laying on the bed: head on his chest while your legs tangle together. your high-top laces ache around the ankles, your shirt gets all bunched up in the back… it’s overstimulating, no doubt.

but, what relaxes you is how your face feels smushed against jj’s chest. his heart beats steady, the kinda steady you’d always prayed for one day. you just didn’t think it’d come in the form of another human. the two of you lay like that for a while, and for once? you don’t have anything to say. perfectly content with just… existing.

jj notices this, pressing a soft peck to your forehead. “here they are. my sweet thing. let’s jus’ do this for a while, k?” normally, you’d be shifting— itching to find something that could help you relax. but, the forehead kiss and the way jj clutches you is enough. he’s not holding on for dear life, but it’s not so loose that you can squirm away. it’s enough. when you part your lips to speak, your voice is level. there isn’t any wavering or flailing hands to emphasize your presence. it’s you. every little bit of you that jj maybank thinks about day and night. “i feel like i’m at home when ‘m with you.”

the blond can feel his lungs filling with heat, spreading across his chest and shooting into his veins. there’s been a few isolated incidents where he’s almost drowned, but those can’t compare to what you said. jj knows that you mean it, that the shape you’re in right now is the most authentic version of you. no flitting eyes or lip curls that make you look like elvis. “me too, baby.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

ac speaks:

first real post! i hope you all enjoy🫶🏼

[princesscrter]

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introducing….

actuallyawkward!reader

(their vibe ^^)

synopsis:

they’re not the cute, shy awkward that makes people melt at the sight of them. but the kind of awkward that makes people slightly uncomfortable. they’re the type to mirror movements in hopes of seeming easily approachable, but it comes off as mimicking. they’re the type to keep the joke going longer than it needs to, and once they realize how everyone else has moved on— they retreat into their shell like a turtle.

but, they’re the kind of friend you need when going out! they’ll happily make a fool out of themselves performing karaoke in a dive bar so you don’t feel left out. they cart around all sorts of knickknacks and little things that seem useless, but a bent-up paperclip does wonders to hold your top together after one too many drinks… they’re easy to talk to once you get past the grimacing smiles and nervous banter.

best pairings for actuallyawkward!reader:

jj maybank! deep down, he’s actually really insecure so he understands where reader is coming from. he loves to tease and get them all flustered, just so he can see the sweet lil smile on their face one more time! jj only refers to reader with pet names, and will definitely be offended if reader refers to him as jj.

elena gilbert! this doppelgänger is finished with vampires, and now has her sight set on reader. reader reminds elena of her life before the salvatore brothers and all their chaos; the idyllic yet uneventful world of friday night lights and studying at the grille. elena likes reader’s ability to lighten the mood, even if they embarrass themselves.

blaise zabini! the cold-blooded slytherin with a taste for luxury actually tolerates, and somewhat adores reader. he doesn’t mind making frequent repurchases of shoes to replace reader’s ones with the tattered soles, or wiping away chocolate from their forehead after a candy break in between studying. (blaise does wonder, however, how on earth reader managed to get food on their forehead…)

leah clearwater! sam was always too serious, too brooding and always toed the line with their relationship. leah imprinting on reader was different. she’s suddenly reminded of seth when he was a kid— surrounded by awkward thumbs-ups whenever the silence is too long and constant rambling. but, she doesn’t seem to care.

scott mccall! the true alpha has been best friends with stiles since they were kids, so he’s used to corny jokes and the occasional dissociation. like elena, reader reminds scott of what it’s like to be human— to not have the weight of the world on your shoulders. he’s patient and understanding, and little bit devious… scott likes to let his eyes linger for too long just so he can see reader try to distract themselves!

brooke davis! she’s the queen bee, the hbic of tree hill. yet, she’s quite smitten with reader. her love story with lucas? burned with the help of a lighter she confiscated from reader. brooke isn’t afraid to love, and she loves loud. reader is held against their will to sit through each fashion show following a brooke davis shopping spree— but reader knows that doing so will result in a heated kiss that leaves them feeling dizzy!

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author’s note:

hi! this is my first post, and of course i had to introduce my favorite reader! i see too many fics with awkward!reader as the insert and reader isn’t all that awkward. as someone who is very awkward irl, i wanted to write something that i felt was fitting for me (and others)! let me know if you have any thoughts on possible pairings for actuallyawkward!reader bc i’d love to hear!