Crush X Reader One Shots & Imagines

Southern Belle

Y/N = Your Name
C/N = Crush Name
BSF/N = Best Friend Name
F/N = Friend Name
E/N = Enemy's Name
N/N = Nickname
H/C = Hair Color
E/C = Eye Color
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The night was buzzing with energy as we stepped into the local western bar. The neon lights bathed the place in a hazy glow, and the wooden floorboards seemed to pulse with the rhythm of country music. BSF/N, F/N, and I were on a mission tonight: have fun, dance, and maybe catch the eye of a few guys while we were at it.

"Alright, ladies," BSF/N said, her eyes scanning the crowd as we grabbed a table near the dance floor. "Who's ready for a little challenge?"

I raised an eyebrow, sipping my drink. "What kind of challenge?"

"Dares," F/N grinned, leaning forward. "We trade dares back and forth, and no backing out."

F/N raised her glass. "I'm in. What's the challenge?"

I looked between the two of them, knowing where this was headed. "This is going to end in disaster, isn't it?"

BSF/N smirked. "Disaster? More like a good time. Let's start easy."

She scanned the room, eyes locking on a guy in a cowboy hat near the bar. "BSF/N, I dare you to go up to Mr. Cowboy Hat and ask him for a dance."

"Done," BSF/N said, already on her feet. She strutted over, a picture of confidence, and within moments, they were dancing, her laugh echoing across the bar as they twirled around the floor.

F/N raised an eyebrow at me. "She's way too good at this. Your turn."

I grinned, glancing around. "Okay, F/N, I dare you to ask that guy by the jukebox to teach you how to two-step."

F/N narrowed her eyes but stood up, smoothing her dress. She walked up to the guy, said something with a sweet smile, and before I knew it, she was two-stepping in rhythm with the music.

BSF/N returned, catching her breath. "Alright, Y/N, you're up."

I sighed, knowing whatever they had in mind would be trouble. "What's the dare?"

They both exchanged knowing looks before BSF/N grinned wickedly. "See that guy in the black button-down near the bar? The one who looks like he walked straight out of a country music video?"

I followed her gaze, landing on a guy leaning against the bar, his dark hair slightly messy, and his jawline sharp under the dim lights. He had a brooding, intense look that made my heart race a little.

"I dare you to go over there and flirt with him in your most exaggerated southern accent. Something ridiculous. Make him think you're from the deep South."

I groaned, shaking my head. "You've got to be kidding me."

F/N chuckled. "Nope, we're serious. Bonus points if you can keep a straight face."

I rolled my eyes but took a deep breath, bracing myself. "Fine. But you're buying the next round."

I squared my shoulders and headed over to the bar, my heart pounding just a little. When I reached him, I plastered on my best southern belle smile and put on the thickest accent I could muster.

"Well, howdy there, stranger," I drawled, my voice sweet as molasses. "What do you say we throw down at this hoedown?"

His eyebrows shot up, a slow grin spreading across his face as he looked me over. "Throw down at this hoedown?" he repeated, his voice full of amusement.

"Why, yes, sir," I continued, trying to keep a straight face. "You and me could light up that there dance floor like fireflies on a summer night."

I could see the flicker of laughter in his eyes, and it took everything in me not to burst out laughing myself. But before I could finish my ridiculous line, he cracked. A loud, hearty laugh broke out of him, and I couldn't hold it in anymore—I burst into giggles, clutching my stomach.