Showing - Godless
Staring - Whitey Winn X Reader
Rating - 12
Reading Time - 10 min 22 sec (1347)
Whitey didn't know whether to be thrilled or infuriated.
Y/n had a habit of going on little adventures beyond Labelle, most of which never went very well. She often got lost or hurt or stuck, leading to an established understanding that if Y/n wasn't in Labelle by super time Whitey would go out and find wherever she'd gotten to now.
Today had been no different; she'd gone wandering out by the river and gotten lost, so Whitey went to find her. discovering her in the river mud miles from town.
So he scooped her up, of course, and kept her on his horse to take them back to town. The sun was setting, and they had a fair way to go yet. Y/n sat with her head against Whitey’s chest, half asleep as they rode.
Whitey held her; his hand rested on her back to help keep her steady while they rode. He glanced down at her, watching as her eyes started to droop. “Ya fallin’ asleep on me, magpie?” he teased,
Y/n nodded, rubbing her nose against his shirt.
“Not gonna whine at me for findin’ you again?” he asked. “After ya once again went off wanderin’ and got distracted by whatever shiny thin’ happened to catch ya lil eyes?”
"too sleepy to whine …" She yawned,
Whitey let out a small chuckle, holding her tighter. “Just ‘ow long were ya out there for? You're always sleepy when I find ya.”
"I left at dawn." She mumbled,
Whitey let out a small sigh. “Ya gotta stop runnin’ off so much, magpie,” he said, “you know I'm gonna find ya.”
She huffed,
Whitey just smirked. “Don't give me that tone,” he scolded.
“Umm…”
“Why do ya even go out ‘ere anyway?”
"Beats being at home."
“Doesn't give ya an excuse to wander off,” he sighed, “You're always filthy and always hurt, and ya know ‘ow to take care of yourself, so what’s ya damn excuse?”
Y/n didn't answer,
“Y/n,” he warned, “You need to stop hidin’ things from me.” he paused. “Now start singin’ magpie.”
"bout what?" She said dismissively,
He held her a bit tighter.
“Ya know damn well what. About this whole runnin’ away nonsense. Why do ya keep runnin’ off?” he asked.
"… No fathers or brothers in the woods." She mumbled almost inaudibly,
“And what's that supposed to mean?” he asked.
She didn’t answer, nuzzling closer, trying to avoid the subject.
“Y/n,” he warned again, “Please…Stop avoidin’ the question and just talk to me.”
"If I go walking, I ain't got to do no chores. Or pour more beers. Or make more sandwiches. Or hear anybody yelling at me all damn day." Y/n whined.
Whitey’s grip around her became a bit tighter as she spoke, “They do that at home?”
"Father, let the boys do whatever they want. Let's them all treat me like a damn slave cause I'm a girl."
Whitey's grip on her thigh tightened. “Your dad just stands by and lets ya brothers give orders to ya?”
She nodded. "And let's them spank me when I mess up, or I'm too slow, or just cause they think it's funny."
Whitey's blood boiled. “Your dad lets ya brothers hit ya?” he asked.
She whimpered and nodded, nuzzling closer to Whiteys shirt and into his protective embrace,
Whitey's jaw ticked angrily, and he pulled her close. Her head buried into his chest, his hands around her, gently squeezed. “I've ‘alf a mind to go punch the old fuckwit in the face,” he growled. “Let alone the rest of them,” he let out a small sigh. “How long ‘ave ya been endurin’ this?” he asked.
"Since mama died…" She answered, "he says I'm a young lady, so I gotta learn how to be a good wife and mama. Ready for my husband someday."
He clenched his jaw, “Your father needs his ass kicked,” he growled out. “Ya shouldn't be workin’ while your brothers do whatever they damn well please,” he briefly leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You're too good for all this bullshit.”
She blushed and softly smiled, squeezing him a little tighter,
“Y/n?”
"mhm?"
Whitey looked down at her, and his hand brushed some hair from her face so he could look at her. “Are ya happy?” he asked. “Not just with the whole situation at ‘ome, I mean just in general.”
She looked up at him and shook her head,
He sighed deeply. “So if you had the chance to do somethin’. Somethin’ different from bein’ stuck in that house. Workin’ at a saloon and doin’ chores and whatever bullshit your father makes ya do.” he paused, hesitant, “Would ya take it?”
She nodded. "Mhm…"
Whitey's breath hitched as he looked down at her. He ran a hand up her back. “And what if I said I was offerin’ ya that chance?”
"How so, Whitey?" She asked with a hopeful tone.
“If they want to treat ya like that, to 'prepare ya to be somebody's wife', how ‘bout ya come and be a deputy's wife? I'll never lay a hand on ya, we'll split chores, and ya are always welcome to come curl up in my lap while I'm workin’ in the office. We can cuddle up every night, make nice dinners together, maybe… have some cute little kiddies someday.” He explained, “Would ya want that? Honestly?”
Y/n blushed. "I'd like that."
Whitey let out a breath of relief, and he gave her a small, gentle smile. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering for a moment against her skin. His thumb brushed her bottom lip.“Is that a yes then, my lil Magpie?” he asked.
She nodded excitedly,
“You are just the most adorable little thin’,” he mumbled.
"Am I gonna make an adorable Mrs Winn?"
Whitey chuckled.“Ya most certainly will.”
she hummed and nuzzled his neck,
“You're already actin’ like my wife,” he lightly teased.
"That a problem?"
Whitey shook his head and ran his hand up her back. “No, no, not at all. I like havin’ ya all close like this,” he said softly, almost a whisper.
Y/n smiled and yawned again, clearly close to passing out.
Whitey chuckled. “You're fallin’ asleep on me again."
"I'm happy. And I'm tired."
“Ya being happy makes me happy,” he said, gently giving her head another little kiss, “You've been tryin’ to fight off sleep so ya can talk to me, huh?” he teased.
She nodded, her eyes getting too heavy to keep open,
“Go to sleep, magpie,” he said quietly. “You've had a long day.”
Y/n nodded, leaning her head up to give Whiteys cheek a kiss before she lay her head on his shoulder and fell asleep almost immediately. Her eyes closed, and little snores came from her lips.
Whitey was left a bit stunned when she kissed his face, his heart hammering in his chest.
He took a moment to collect himself. “Goodnight, my cute lil magpie.” He muttered.
Whitey made sure to ride slow, as to not disturb Y/n. When they returned to Labelle, he didn't exactly want to take her home, knowing her father and brother would only be more cruel to her. So instead, he took her to his own little house. He hopped off his horse and scooped the sleeping Y/n into his arms, holding her bridal style. He looked down at her fondly; her hair was a bit of a mess in her face, and she was out cold.
“My little wife,” he muttered and started to carry her inside, he went straight to his bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. He took her boots off and set them beside the bed. Before he took a moment to look at her. Her hair sprawled around her, and her eyelashes flickered a bit. Whitey kneeled down beside the bed, his hand moved to push the hair out of her face. His thumb gently brushed her bottom lip. “I'm gonna spoil ya rotten,” he mumbled quietly. “The second we’re married, ya will never want or need for anythin’ again.”
Y/n hummed a little in her sleep, wrapping her arms around his hand.
Whitey chuckled. Her hands were so small compared to his, but her grip was surprisingly strong. “Ya really are the cutest thin’…” He cooed, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “Sleep, my sweet Magpie. Don’t ya worry, I’m goin’ to take care of ya.”
