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lincolndjarin · 11 months ago

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Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary.

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark.

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him.

But you can’t.

So you don’t.

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away.

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle.

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence.

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from.

Lose your leg or starve.

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful.

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge.

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable.

So there’s only one other option for you.

You steal.

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk.

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching.

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day.

You need more.

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea.

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal.

The only problem is your neighbors reputation.

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty.

So you’d have to be careful.

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area.

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings.

Lucky you.

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process.

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor.

A revolver.

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window?

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear.

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness.

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way.

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you.

No one would look for you.

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner.

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all.

He isn’t a terrible last sight.

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.”

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you.

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes.

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed.

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch.

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit.

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all.

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all.

Fuck.

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh.

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively.

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself.

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?”

A lot.

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes.

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you.

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising.

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.”

You told him you’d think about it.

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help.

And just like that, it was your idea.

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after.

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did.

But he wanted nothing of the sort.

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning.

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before.

He must like having someone to take care of.

That’s how you explain it to yourself.

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you.

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was.

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that.

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was.

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already.

He had acted unsure.

You know now that it was acting.

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him.

It was your idea.

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you.

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come.

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning.

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment.

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet.

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his.

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed.

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them.

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg.

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing.

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs.

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend.

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go.

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that.

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them.

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing.

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister.

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other.

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one.

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down.

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall.

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it.

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about.

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules.

You keep Jackson moving.

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms.

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises.

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule.

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans.

“Maria gets to go on patrol.”

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls.

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two.

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work.

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son.

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work.

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing.

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists.

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.”

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.”

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated.

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone.

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs.

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to.

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.)

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks.

It’s all exactly how it should be.

Until she frowns.

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol.

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow.

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.”

Odd.

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent.

It’s a look of pity.

As if she feels bad for even asking.

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind.

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one.

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed.

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different.

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy.

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light.

God, you're tired.

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday.

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment.

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams.

It works.

Your dreams never feature him.

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays.

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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krazyyyyyy · 7 months ago

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A Time to Remember Solivan Brugmansia/Reader

Synopsis: Taking a break from school, you and Sol make a small trip out to your childhood home.

Warnings: Slight mentions of alcohol

Words: 3546

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” Sol asks from where he sits in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the vast fields surrounding the single road that seems to stretch on for miles.

“Lost? Of course not! We should be there any second now.” You reply with eyes focused on the road and fingers tapping excitedly on the steering wheel.

You were on your way toward your childhood home, and you couldn’t possibly be any more excited. It had been far too long since you’d been able to feel the comfort and tranquility that the farmhouse brought you. To say you missed it would’ve been an understatement.

Sol had tagged along with you on the short trip, showing much eagerness towards meeting your father and visiting the home in which you had grown up, so many years ago. But, if not for you, you think he mainly tagged along to see the horses that were kept in the barn house, which you had known to be one of his favorite animals.

For the majority of the ride, you and Sol talked endlessly; although it had mostly been you talking of your childhood and how life on the farm was, while Sol would simply listen intently and watch you with amusement glittering in his eyes. Throughout the whole ride, Sol’s eyes never wandered away from you; even when silence filled the car. Sol would take the time to admire everything about you. From your smile to the very way you held on to the steering wheel, he thought every single aspect of you was nothing short of perfect.

You spoke your words truthfully, as it wasn’t long before a small ranch came into view, encircled by fields occupied with livestock and crops. The sight never failed to amaze you, reminding you of the hours you would spend running through the fields when you were younger, without a single worry in the world. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same now, as you now had to carry the burden of determining the fate of the farm you held so close to your heart.

“We’re here!” You exclaimed excitedly, pulling into the driveway in front of the farmhouse. You were quick to exit the vehicle once you parked, to admire your old home in front of you, filling you with nostalgia. Sol followed soon after, standing next to you, also taking in the exterior of the farmhouse, a smile painted on his face.

The sudden sound of the front door opening interrupts your sightseeing. At the front door was a visibly agitated man who held a shotgun in his hands as he yelled out at what he originally assumed to be trespassers.

“I’ll give y'all scumbags till the count of three to–” He cuts himself off in disbelief once he recognizes one of the two faces that stood in the middle of his driveway.

“Y/N?” He asks, almost as if he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“Hi Dad…” You smile at your father, feeling a bit embarrassed by his sudden outburst, with Sol standing next to you; at least his first meeting with your father would be one to remember.

Without another word, your father very dangerously lets his shotgun fall to the ground, to race down the steps and pull you into a tight hug. It was a hug you had longed for ever since you left home to live in the city years ago. You had always been close to your father, without your mother and no siblings in the picture, he was the only person you really had growing up.

After a few moments, your father releases you from the hug, but he keeps his hand firmly planted on your shoulders to look at you with mixed emotions glistening in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you're here!” he says, voice heavy with emotion, “I’ve missed you, Kiddo.”

You can’t help but smile tearfully,“ I missed you too, Dad.”.

Your father's eyes then shifted to Sol, who stood back some to give some space for you and your father’s reunion. Your father looked the man up and down, his gaze suspicious of the stranger, “Who’s your friend here?” He asks, skeptical of the man before him.

Before you could speak, Sol steps toward your father with his hand extended,“ My name is Solivan Brugmansia, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You hold your breath as your father continues to observe the boy with a scrutinizing glare before he takes the extended hand and gives it a subtle shake. “Pleasures all mine, any friend of Y/N is a welcomed guest here.”

Relief floods through you as the tension starts to somewhat subside between the two men. Your father has always been rather protective of you, especially with men that came in and out of your life, but you were grateful to see your father be sort of accepting toward Sol. Even if you knew he had his doubts.

Turning back to you, your father draped an arm over your shoulder and led you toward the front door of the house, Sol following close behind you two. You felt at ease being home at last with two of your favorite people. Maybe, just maybe, you would forget about the difficulties of life for a while and just enjoy the moment of peace you were gifted with.

The farmhouse had been just like how you’d remembered it all those years ago, which wasn’t surprising to you, as your father tended to avoid change whenever possible. While your father situated himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the three of you; you and Sol were in the living room, sitting on the loveseat seat, attention drawn to the TV in front of you.

“Beautiful…” You hear Sol whisper from next to you. Turning your head to look at him, you glance at the framed photograph he held in his hands. It was an old photo of you from high school posing with a majestic chestnut-coated mare. “Oh, that's Persephone! She is a beauty, isn't she?” you speak out cheerfully. Sol nodded his head slightly, “She is…but I was talking about you.” The last part of his sentence was mumbled and quickly spoken, so naturally you couldn’t make out what he said.

“What did you say?”

“I-”

“Lunch is ready! Your father's voice echoed from the kitchen. Sol lets out a huff of frustration at the ill-timed interruption but gets up from his seat nonetheless. He extends his hand out toward you, which you take gratefully. He pulls you up effortlessly from where you sat on the loveseat and you both make your way to the kitchen where an aromatic home-cooked meal awaits you.

After a quiet and peaceful lunch, your father excused himself to focus on some repairs he had to make on the chicken coop fencing, which left you and Sol to your own devices for the time being.

You were thrilled at the opportunity to show Sol around the farm, and from what you could tell, everything was almost exactly the way it was when you left.

Walking through the familiar paths of the farm, you point out various items from your childhood. From the swing, your father built for you on your favorite oak tree, to the pond where you learned to fish with your grandfather; everything with its own special meaning to you. Sol nodded along, attention solely drawn to the everlasting smile on your face as you went on explaining down to the last detail of the farm to him.

Approaching the barn area, you introduced Sol to the variety of farm animals that resided there. You couldn’t help but notice how at ease Sol was with the animals, almost like he had a natural affinity for them, handling each of them with gentle touches and a tranquil demeanor. The pigs would oink happily as he tossed them a bit of corn, and even the usually jumpy goats would allow him to scratch behind their ears without protest. It had been a sight that truly warmed your heart.

After being properly introduced to all the animals in the barn, you left the barn to walk toward a fenced-in open field. Sol’s eyes lit up once he spotted the majestic animal that trotted freely in the open field without a care in the world. In the field was the beautiful steed that he had seen before in the picture, Persephone.

He approached the fence to look at her in amazement, with his love for horses this may have been the first time he’d actually seen one in person. Wrapping your lips around your fingers, you let out a loud whistle, which gains the attention of the horse, who curiously makes her way toward the two of you.

As she approaches, Sol holds out his hand, palm open in a gesture of trust to the giant creature before him. Persephone in her curious nature cranes her neck to sniff the extended hand, studying the scent of the newcomer. After a few moments of hesitation, the horse nuzzles into the outstretched hand with her soft snout.

You watch as a smile appears on Sol’s face, his eyes shining with childlike joy as he gently strokes Persephone’s muzzle. They just met, but there was an obvious bond formed between the man and the gentle beast that couldn’t be described in words.

Without looking away from the horse, Sol spoke breathlessly, “She’s incredible…”. You smiled at his incredulity, “I told you so.” and after watching them for a few more moments, a sudden idea dawned on you. “You wanna take her for a ride? I’m sure she’ll be more than willing to, with how much she likes you.”

Sol finally tears his gaze away from Persephone to look at you, “.. Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

After getting Persephone properly equipped with her saddle, Sol was able to get on her back easily with the help of his height. He was a bit shaky, but you didn’t know if it was from the fear or the excitement…or maybe it was a mix of both. He held on to the reigns for dear life, as you slowly led Persephone around the fence to allow Sol to get used to the feeling.

After a while, you finally let go of the lead to let Sol have full control of the steed. He started rather clumsily, but it didn’t take long before he fully got the hang of it and started to ride with ease. You happily watched Sol thoroughly enjoy himself, setting Persephone into a slow gallop in circles along the fence.

He rode on for a while before pulling on the reigns, bringing Persephone to a complete stop. You held out your hand to him to help him safely get off the horse. He grabbed onto it tightly, carefully sliding off the saddle and attempting to land firmly on the ground. As he dismounted, his legs wobbled with the unfamiliar sensation that came with horse riding, before they gave out from underneath him; causing him to fall down into the grass, pulling you along with him.

Luckily, the grass cushioned your fall, and before you could ask Sol if he was all right, his outburst of laughter interrupted you. He lies on the ground next to you, laughing like you’ve never heard him laugh before. It wasn’t long until you joined him in laughter, and it went on for a while, the two of you lying in the grass, laughing like you two were children again.

As your laughter dies down, you both quietly lay there, staring up at the sky above, enjoying each other's company.

Sol then breaks the silence, turning his head to look at you affectionately, “Thank you Y/N… for everything”

You laugh, “You don’t have to thank me… I’m just happy that you're here and having fun.” Delicately, you feel Sol gently intertwine his fingers with yours as they rest on the soft bed of grass.

Lost in the moment, you barely hear your father calling your name from the other side of the farm. Eventually, his calls got closer to the point where they couldn’t be ignored.

“Y/N!”, Quickly sitting up, you look over to where your father stood merely a couple of feet away from where you sat. You remain unaware of, just how quickly, you had unraveled your fingers from Sol’s; leaving his hand barren, save for the lingering warmth that emanated from your touch.

“Dad?! What are you doing out here?!” You cry out to your father, who looks at you somewhat displeased.

“Well, I just finished dinner, and neither of you were in the house. So naturally I assumed you to be out here somewhere…seems I was right.” His remained firmly on you, seemingly ignoring the existence of the man next to you entirely.

Had you really been out here for that long? You swore it had only been an hour at most… “Sorry Dad, Sol took Persephone out for a ride… I guess we lost track of time”

Your father’s expression softens slightly, “It’s alright, but let's get you inside, dinner is getting cold.” You nod, before leaving the softness of the grass below you to stand; you wait for Sol to also retreat from his spot before the three of you make your way back to the house.

Unlike lunch, your father stuck around to eat dinner with you and Sol and properly catch up with you after so many years apart. You answered his back-and-forth questions about school and if you were taking care of yourself; all while Sol sat by your side eating his meal quietly.

For the second time that day, your father acknowledged the man sitting next to you, “Solivan, was it? I’m assuming you're also a university student.”

Sol stood up straight in his chair, galvanized at your father's sudden attempt to make small talk with him. “That’s right.”

The older man's icy cold gaze bore into Sol’s, almost as if he was trying to stare right into his very soul, “And what is your major, Boy?”. You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance at your father’s behavior. You guess it was too much to ask for one peaceful dinner.

“I am an art major.” Sol stuttered, nearly faltering under the intense gaze he had so unfortunately been placed under.

“Art major? That’s a fine choice…if you want to live a life of poverty–” “Dad! Stop!!” Whether your father was testing Sol’s resilience or sanity; he was pushing it too far, he hasn’t even tried to get to know the true Sol.

A wave of chills is sent down your spine as your father shifts his cold gaze to you, “Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time you’ve been gone?” He refers briefly to Sol, “Do you even care what happens to this place? To the farm?”

You wondered how things escalated to this, everything was just fine seconds ago. What changed? Your question is quickly answered when you catch a glimpse of the beer can that your father clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

Oh…

You knew he picked up his drinking habit not long after that debt collected, and paid you two a visit, but never thought he’d let it consume him like this.

“Dad, It hasn’t been easy, but I'm trying my best, I swear…” Your voice trembled as you pleaded with your father.

He scoffed, taking a large gulp, from the beer can “Trying your best? Is that what you call this? Running off to that dumbass university to have fun with lover boy here, all while the farm falls apart?

You flinched at the accusation, and your eyes started to well with tears. That had been a hard blow, considering all that you were putting yourself through just so that your childhood farm wouldn't go to the likes of some heartless debt collectors.

Sol is, of course, quick to come to your aid; abruptly standing up from his chair to give your father a piece of his mind. He did his best to make a good first impression on your father, but that went flying out the window once he saw that shattered look on your face.

Before, a word could even leave his lips, the sound of something falling to the wooden floor halted him. When he turns his head to look at where you once sat, he is met only with a tipped-over wooden chair and a fleeting glimpse of your figure disappearing down the hallway.

Sol was quick to follow you, leaving behind the older man who had buried his face in his hands as he broke into a sob, whispering to himself over and over.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N…”

As Sol made his way out of the farmhouse, he looked around for any sight of you, which unfortunately you were nowhere in sight. This worried him to the core, where could you have gone?

He looked from the chicken coop to your favorite oak tree with absolutely no signs of you. The night only grew darker, with only the moon to illuminate the path laid out before him.

He nearly gave up, until the abrupt sound of numerous “baa’s” rang out into the quiet night. Glancing over at the goat enclosure; he noticed a couple of the goat's heads were tilted upwards toward the roof of their shelter, as if something was of great interest to them up there.

Sol used some nearby barrels to carefully maneuver his way onto the roof of the goat pen. Upon safely making it, strained his eyes against the darkness to scan the area of the roof.

His heart soared with relief once he saw the familiar sight of your figure sitting in the near center of the sturdy roof with your knees folded to your chest, as you looked onward into the vastness of the forest.

Sol takes a seat next to you so that you are sitting shoulder to shoulder., looking you over with concern. “Hey, you okay?” He speaks, his voice barely above a whisper; a sound soothing to nerves.

“… Yeah, I'm okay.,” You respond, burying your face deeper into your knees. “I’m sorry Sol… for what my Dad said, he’s usually so much better than this.”. You were brimming with guilt, with everything that went down with your father, and Sol had to bear witness to it all.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, it's not your responsibility to control his actions.” His tone was full of understanding and care. At that moment, there was nothing, Sol wanted nothing more than to alleviate the pain and guilt that burdened you.

You finally lift your head from your knees to meet that mesmerizing amber gaze that you’ve come to love so much; something about them always made you feel safe and dare say even loved…

As you lifted your head, Sol gently enveloped your face in his hands, wiping away any lingering tears that strayed on your cheeks with his soft thumbs; all while he kept his eyes locked on yours as if in a dreamlike daze. His touch was filled with tenderness, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm, relishing in the comforting warmth it brought.

“Thank you…“ You whispered, as your gaze refused to waver from his; barely noticing the amount of distance you closed between the two of you. Unspoken tension lingered in the air; both of you were caught in the middle of a silent conflict of feelings and desires that only left you wanting more.

“Always.” He responds, eyes filled with longing

No more words were shared, as Sol closed the gap between you until his lips softly met yours in a light kiss. The kiss may have been short and gentle, but it spoke millions of words and future promises that made your heart ache for more.

After you broke apart, you two smiled at each other like the love-sick-driven fools you were for each other. Even though you felt a thousand times better, you’d rather fall off the roof of this pen than face your father again. Thankfully, Sol showed no interest in leaving from his spot next to you; likely, sharing your current mindset.

And stay you did. Laying down on the metal roof, with your fingers intertwined just like they had been hours ago; you two stayed up there til the sun started to rise over the tree line. Although, this trip hadn't been what you originally hoped it would be; the man next to you made the whole thing worthwhile.

As the warmth of sunlight started to kiss the landscape of the farm, you spared a final glance at the man you lay next to. He had his eyes closed with a relaxed smile on his face, yet his grasp on your hand remained unyielding. He looked saintly under the hue of the sun, outlining all of his regal features.

Even with all the turmoil that transpired last night between you and your father, you knew you wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant it led you directly to this moment.

Notes: This took a hot minute to write, but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoyed it!

#the kid at the back #tkatb vn #solivan x reader #solivan brugmansia #tkatb x reader #tkatb #sol x reader #tkatb sol #katb vn

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cherryredstars · 6 months ago

Note

HELLO DADDIES!!HELLO DADDIES!!

if u can, can u plspls do like Graves (and Soap maybe) on how would they treat u before they start crushing??

thx very much cherry 😘😘🍒🍒 have a good day!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pairings: Phillip Graves x gn!reader, John "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader

Warnings: None

A/N: I miss my COD babies!!!

Unedited

Phillip Graves

This man is totally indifferent to anyone and everyone outside of his Shadows. Sorry, love, but he probably didn't know you even existed until he started showing an interest in you. Doesn't matter if you've worked in the same base for years or have been on missions together. The second he's finished talking to you and the mission is complete, he's wiping any memory of you to make room for more important things.

He's a busy man, making plans to betray his own people under the command of General Shepard. He doesn't have time to remember any and every unremarkable face that won't be important once he and his men go rogue. Don't take it personally when you have to constantly remind him what your name is and that you have, in fact, worked together before.

Takes a remarkable amount of effort for him to memorize your name once Shepard informs him that you'll be added to their plan of betrayal. He isn't exactly sure what your role will be in the grand scheme of things. As far as he's concerned, you might just be another disposable pawn. Not worth getting to know you if you'll just end up dead anyways. However, he will admit that you would make a pretty scapegoat- for the five seconds he remembers your face, that is.

Once he realizes he likes you, it's like a switch clicks in his brain. One second he is horribly unaware of who you are, the next he is too aware of your existence. Drives him crazy that he could forget a face as sweet as yours. Your name is now permanently etched into his brain. Suddenly, you are far too important to be a throwaway soldier to their cause.

Eyes that once skimmed over you are now locked onto you. Graves finds himself hovering near your seat during secret briefings, his hands subconsciously coming to brush against your shoulders as he gives out orders. Well placed pats and squeezes that leave him craving more. He's the definition of "A fell first, B fell harder".

Definitely takes advantage of the fact that he has the most unique accent out of everyone else. Sure 141 has their different posh British accents and Scottish slang, the Los Vaqueros have their rumbling Spanish words that roll off the tongue, but none of them can replicate his sweet country tang. Drives him crazy how his accent affects you, throwing out random southern sweet talking to watch each country-laced endearment heat your cheeks. Likes fluctuating his voice, easily going from a higher pitch to a lower pitch to watch how the shift in tone has you squirming in front of him.

Don't blame him if he starts throwing hints at you about his dream of owning a small little ranch in the American countryside with a few cattle and farm dogs to tend to. It's only a coincidence that the only thing missing is a sweet thing to take care of all the housework while he works the fields and does all the outdoor labor. Did he mention how good he looks sweaty and shirtless with nothing but a cowboy hat to shield him from the sun and a pair of worn out levi's disappearing into a nice pair of cowhide boots? No, well you can always experience it first-hand if you wanted to.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The biggest flirt you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Johnny is not scared to work his Scottish charm on you any chance he gets, even if he only sees you as a teammate. He finds it hilarious when he says something that leaves you absolutely baffled or causes you to roll your eyes.

Strong believer in the fact that you would have the hardest time figuring out if he likes you or not because he acts completely the same before and after he discovers he has a thing for you. The only difference is that he’s more of a show-off and way more energetic near you, which is hard to believe is possible, but it is.

He’s super friendly, of course. Super energetic and outgoing, always coming to you and Ghost when he’s in need of a good sparring or a buddy to go to the mess with for supper. The three of you are practically glued to the hip- Ghost a mostly unwilling participant- to the point where most people see you as best friends.

Don’t be surprised when he drops off the grid when he’s on leave, though. For all the nagging and clinginess he has on base, you’d be surprised how radio silent he is once he’s away from base. Don’t go obsessing over your phone waiting for a stray call or text from Johnny, you aren’t getting anything unless it’s a clear emergency or he’s heading back to base for deployment. Calling and texting outside the base is reserved for long time boot camp friends, family, and his Birdie, sorry. Looks like you don’t meet the requirements just yet.

This man is a kicked puppy whenever he isn't near you after he realizes he likes you. Suddenly, Ghost is always way too busy with whatever lieutenants do to spar and step away from his mountains paperwork to go to the mess. Looks like you're the only person who can help him pass the time on base. Don't worry about being too tired to leave your barrack, he didn't realize how tired he was until you said you were! Did he mention that he makes a great body pillow? You should test it out to see if the rumors are true.

Suddenly, his smiles and teasing looks are way more charming than normal. Don't ask why he's giving you constant bedroom eyes as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, just let the intended effect wash over you. Promise that even though he's not listening to a single word you're saying that you still have his full attention. If you saw his face instantly switch to a look of mourning after one of the others joked about the two of you being best of friends, just know it's your fault because you didn't defend his honor by saying the two of you are way more than friends (despite the fact the two of you aren't even in the ball park of a talking stage).

Right before leave, Johnny is practically stepping on your heels. He's blabbering about meeting up during leave and going to a nice little pub, have a drink or two in your casuals. What's that, did he forget that the two of you don't live even remotely close to each other? Silly Birdie, didn't you know he's happening to come down for a visit. He's never been to your area before, maybe you can be his tour guide. You're too busy to hangout during leave? Well, have his personal number then! He's always up for a chat when you have the time. Don't keep him waiting for a text or a call, you might just make him die from the loneliness!

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 1 year ago

Text

#379

“Hey Ryan. I’m hearing all over town that your Pa found out that you are a faggot…. Don’t walk away from me boy! This ain’t some trap. I have no problem with you being a sperm burper. Look, your Pa was going to throw you out of your house. He was going to come by to pick you up from work and take you to the bus station and leave you with a hundred bucks. I talked him out of that. Now get your ass over here.

“Do you recognize me?... Kinda? I work for the same company as your Pa. We don’t interact with each other too much in what we do, maybe once or twice a month. But today at lunch he was asked by John Gilbert about you, and he got pissed. He was telling everyone there that he found you giving head to a guy from out of town, and that he was going to kick you out.

“When everyone sympathized with him and went on their way, I went up to him and told him that I can take help him with his problem. He looked at me funny… kinda how you are looking at me now.

“Faggot, we may not have interacted other than a glance or two in town or when you would drop in to see your Pa. I’ve known that you have been sucking dick for a few years now.

“Oh yeah. You know that man you were blowing when your Pa saw you? He’s a good bud of mine. When Russ comes through town, we usually hang together. I know he connects with you and has been for a few years. He tells me all about how he’ll tie you up, sit on your face, and smack you around before pile driving into your cunt. This visit, he barely had time to say hi to me and to get that infamous blow job from you.

“So yeah, I know about you and your predicament. Russ was telling me you are a major horndog. I can easily tell that by the sizeable bulge in your pants, your mouth hanging open, and you can’t stop staring at my chest. So you like what you see?...

“Of course, you do. I like that you instinctively address me as ‘Sir.’ Russ also mentioned your natural propensity to submitting to assertive men. Get closer. Go on, if you want to touch my chest go ahead.

“Atta boy. You are going to see a lot of my chest. Lick my nipples. You will find out that my tits are hard wired to my cock. Oh yeah! That feels good. I’m going to train you on how to worship my tits to give me the most pleasure.

“But first, get out of your work clothes. I want to see my new toys. Don’t fucking hesitate. I waited for everyone to leave; so no one is around. Don’t make me repeat myself…. Good. You can expect to be naked back at my farm all the time.

“Damn, you are big. Great muscles. You are definitely one of the cornfed beefy boys around here, not like the nelly fag property I get in Denver or Dallas. How tall are you? 6’3” and 275 pounds? Damn boy, how big is that dick? Eight inches? Thought so. Turn around and grab your ankles…. Oooh beautiful beefy ass. And look at that cunt. That cunt gets used doesn’t it?

“Besides Russ, who has been in here?...

“Russ can’t be the only one. There have to be other men to make those lips that puffy.… You use dildoes?... I knew it! You fucking horn dog. It’s hard to believe that this ass hasn’t been taken by other men, but then again we are six hours from Denver and six from Kansas City and you don’t have a vehicle.

“Stand up. When I heard your Pa talking shit about you today, I knew I had to own you thinking that you would require a lot of training. But you seem to have what I’ve been looking for, for a long time.

“I told your Pa that I would take you off his hands. As I said, he looked at me kinda strange. I told him that I would take you to my ranch and he won’t see you again, other than some casual passing by in town. He was going to tell me to fuck off, until I offered him some cash. If he took it, he knows he can’t make any waves. He thought about it and took the money. I told him that he needs to be gone from his home tomorrow, so we’ll get your shit out of his place.

“Yeah, I bought you. I don’t have boyfriends or lovers, I have property—always have. It makes ending the relationship easier when I get bored. But I think with you, you are going to last a while. I haven’t had a big beefy bitch boy before.

“Russ was right, I am going to enjoy using you. I did talk with him earlier today and asked if I could take you on. It didn’t feel right not to ask him as he found you first. He was fine with that as long as he gets to use you when he comes through town. That’s fine with me. He told me that you love to eat his ass once he showed you how to do it, that you beg him every time to tongue fuck him. That’s good because every morning, I set up my morning coffee on my deck. My property crawls underneath my custom-made rim chair and slurps on my shithole while I begin my day. And it is a full rimjob, not just licking on the surface.

“Look at your dick, you are leaking more than I have ever seen before by a faggot…. That’s a fucking beautiful sight. You want all this from me, don’t you?... Of course you do. Russ wasn’t giving me the full picture of you. He says you are a multiple cummer. I’d like to see that. In fact, get up in the bed of my truck.

“Damn, you look good up there. Step forward. I want to inspect that cock…. It’s like steel. This pre-cum of yours is amazing. Damn! I completely missed the size of your balls. They are huge…. You are every inch the bull Russ described. Let’s get these things drained.

“Over there under that tarp you will find my portable rimseat. You should also see some wrist and ankle cuffs. Put the cuffs on first. You will be secured on the drive home. All property is treated as cargo….

“Lie down with your head under the rim seat and start jacking off. Extend your legs to the corners…. A couple D clips and your legs are secure to the truck.

“I see you jack off left-handed. Give me your right…. That’s secured too. After you shoot, I’ll take care of the left.

“OK faggot. You are the first property I have encountered who hasn’t put up much resistance to becoming owned. I find that very intriguing.

“Cum for me. Shoot it all over your chest. I want to see the size of your load. I usually lock up my property’s peckers, but not yours. I have no desire to do that. I want that thing used often. The thing is that I want to know now how fast you recover.

“You are really going to town. Those balls are flopping all over the place. Here. Look up at me. You look natural under that rim seat. Normally I prefer property lying behind me for the ass eating, but for now, I want to watch you cum.

“Here comes my shithole. It is always to be referred to as such. Sticking your tongue deep inside. Oh fuck! Does that feel wonderful.

“Jesus! You are going to cum already? Go for it! Shoot that fucking load!... Holy shit!... That’s fucking amazing…. Oh shit, it keeps on cumming.

“Keep eating my shithole with the same energy you had a minute ago. Don’t stop eating it until I tell you. Give me your left hand. Gonna finish securing you to the truck.

“Your dick is still dribbling out cum. When was the last time you came? …This morning? And you produced that load. Jesus Christ. Normally I put a cock cage on my property, but there is no way I’m going to, or want to, restrain that beast.

“And those balls! I also castrate my property and replace what they had with fake balls twice the original size. Even those fake ones don’t compare to yours. I may check into augmenting your dick to keep it perpetually hard. I liked that idea. I will turn you into a mindless bull. I’ll take you to Denver or Dallas and watch you destroy fag after fag.

“The one thing I don’t like are your pubes. You are mostly smooth. You will look even bigger without that hair. I’ll have it removed. Until then…. Pubes yank out so nicely…. Faggot this isn’t going to be all fucking and jacking off for me. Property needs to know pain.

“It’s been a long time since I have done something new. When we get home, I’m going to fuck you good. But that’s after I see your next load and see if it matches this one in size. That’ll be the lube I use. After I dump in you, I’ll install you on the dildo machine.

“Oooh. Your tongue likes the thought of that. Do that again. Oh man! I’m going to give you an hour to continue to worship my shithole before we head home. When we get there, I’ll untie you from the truck’s bed.

“But until then, it’s going to be a nice day. I’m getting my shithole eaten by my newest property. I have a fresh bush to yank out one tuft after another to pass the time. Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

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mistriavalley · 3 months ago

Text

Telling Shane about the Junimos

Gender neutral

TW: established relationship, mentions of drug consume (it was just a potion from the wizard), mentions of alcohol

Masterlist

It's no secret that Shane doesn't believe in magic or anything that hasn't been backed by science

You on the other hand are over here fighting all sorts of monsters while helping a bunch of round forest spirits to rebuild the community center and seeking advice from the local wizard. Your hands are full with all the stuff that hasn't been proven by scientists yet

Obviously Shane doesn't think much of the strange items you bring to the community center or the amount of times you ran to the tower in the west with a poisonous mushroom. So what if you need a Bream for the broken down house in the town? It's just your way of fixing things...apparently

The two of you had that talk so many times where you ask him if he's absolutely sure that he doesn't believe at least a little bit in magic

"Nope."

One day you decide to take him to the community center to show him what exactly you're doing there. Of course he won't see the Junimos, but maybe he will be convinced by the item lists they need from you and the boxes where you put said items inside

But to him the letters look like scribbles of either a madman or a toddler that hasn't learned how to write yet and the boxes where you put the items in are...well they must be your doing, right?

He doesn't know how to react to your frantic explanation about some spirits that look like apples. The old Shane would have told you off and walked away, but you're very important to him and the new Shane doesn't wanna hurt your feelings in any way or at least tries to avoid it

"You did all these things for the community center? Wow. You're doing great."

The tone in his voice makes it more than crystal clear that he doesn't believe a word you said. It's frustrating, but he'll see

"Do you trust me, Shane?"

"Uh..."

He looks around the place. He always knew you were a bit quirky, but now he's pretty sure he's apparently dating a second Emily

"I want to open your eyes."

He blinks a few times

"Sure?"

That's all you need to hear to grab his hand and lead him towards cindersap forest

Shane's mind is racing and he has no clue what to expect. The expression on your face is so serious that it's almost scary. What do you plan on doing with him inside the goddamn woods of all places? Will you perhaps sacrifice him? Hah! What a ridiculous thought! And even if. At least it would be happening by the hands of his hot significant other

You lead him up some stairs towards no other place than the tower. It's taller from up close. Shane had looked at it many times from the ranch, but only the tip of the roof is visible from that distance

But is this really happening? Is he seriously going to meet that crazy dude who lives on the border of Pelican Town? Shane doesn't know if he should feel worried or excited. He never particularly cared for that guy or what his business here is so it's difficult to say

Once you two take a step through the wooden front door, Shane is being hit by an earthy smell. This place smells more of the forest than the forest itself. The room wasn't particularly big and it lacked furniture. The big, colorful sigil on the floor is the first thing that catches his attention

Inside the alien looking symbol stands a man with a thick, purple beard and black clothes. The man's eyes light up at the sight of you, but it's immediately being replaced by a frown once his gaze meets Shane's

You pull the stranger aside and started a hushed, but heated discussion with him. Shane feels out of place with his worn out joja sweater and old cargo shorts. Everything here is so mystical and Shane is...well, he is Shane

The sound of a cough rips him out of his thoughts and his legs seem to be moving by themselves as the purple man waves him over to an enormous cauldron. The reassuring smile on your face is the only thing that keeps him sane at the moment

A cup filled with a bubbling, green liquid finds its way into his hands and he just stares at it for a long time, unsure about what to do now

"Drink it."

"Hold up, buddy! You want me to do what exactly?"

Shane has mentally prepared himself to be sacrificed by his partner (for some reason) and not by some old guy who smells like he uses dirt as deodorant

You gently put a hand on his shoulder and plant a kiss on his cheek

"Nothing bad will happen to you. You have my word. I had to drink it too in the beginning."

Okay, so nothing bad will happen, but something definitely will happen to him. Cool. Yea.

"Just pretend it's beer, Shane. Alright. Bottoms up."

The moment the liquid touches his tongue he feels the strong urge to spit it all out onto the floor. It tastes of donkey ass or at least that's what he imagines it to taste like, but it's not that what he should be concerned about

Almost right after thag horrible experience, an explosion of colors hits him and what the fuck? Are those trees flying around him? His knees cave in and he plops down onto the hard floor. By Yoba. Not even Gus' strongest hits like this

Thankfully this odd feeling vanishes as quickly as it came

"Did you fucking drug me?"

"It was a potion."

"That doesn't answer my goddamn question!"

You tell him that it was no drug and that this will help him read the letters and see the spirits. Since he doesn't have a natural connection to nature like you do you had to ask Rasmodius to change the potion a little bit

"I'm so sorry. I should have warned you, but he told me you won't feel any side effects like I did."

"No, don't worry. I'm not mad at you."

But the wizard on the other hand shouldn't show himself around these parts

It doesn't take long for you guys to leave the tower and it feels like as if something is being lifted from Shane's shoulders the more distance he puts between himself and that place

"How do you feel?"

"Fine? I think? I keep expecting to fall over and die though."

"Noooo! That won't happen."

He doesn't want to imagine what the guy put in that so called "potion" of his. Raccoon shit? Poisonous berries? Worms? He shivers at the thought

Once again Shane finds himself inside the old community center with you and once again nothing looks out of the ordinary. Well, except for the dead fish that are piled up in the corner

But then he spots something in the far corner and rubs his eyes. It's gone. Ah, that was probably just a trick of the light

You startle him by holding up one of the letters infront of his face and...wait a minute. Where are the unreadable scribbles? Why can he read the writing now? Shane shakes his head violently. You must have exchanged the letters, but when? You hadn't left his side at all today

He goes through every room, reads every letter and checks every single box. The content of the boxes fit. So you actually do have a system here even though he can't find a sense in it

Then he hears a noise echoing through the hallway to the right

"What was that?"

"A Junimo."

For the first time since forever he finds himself praying to Yoba. He has gone mad. The "wizard" has made him mad with the raccoon shit drink

Shane bolts out of the house and stumbles back home. Back to the ranch. Part of him is trying to drag him towards the saloon to drown the madness in beer, but he can't drink now. He needs to think

After this incident you don't see him for a whole week. Every now and then you do spot him in town, on his way to work, but decide not to approach him. Obviously he's avoiding you right now and you don't want to push things. He had gone through a lot now and probably just needs the space. It still worries you

A week later someone knocks at your front door right as you were about to hop into bed. Shane is standing there, looking more tired and exhausted than ever. You feel the familiar sting of guilt in your chest

"Can we talk?"

Without saying a word, you step aside to let him in. Both of you sit down in the living room infront of the still glowing fireplace. A comfortable heat eminates from it

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd open my eyes."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be. I mean it kinda sucked, yea."

An unbearable silence stretches on. This moment is like torture to you. You have no idea what to expect. Is he angry? Is he sad? Will he break up with you now? You banish these thoughts before your mind can wander any further

"Thanks."

Wait what? That came...unexpected

"But I only thank you. Not that wizard dude in that shitty tower with his raccoon shit potions. I guess...I guess I needed something like this. I needed to know that we're not alone in this world. It's kinda comforting in a way."

You throw your arms around him, relieved that he doesn't hate you. It also feels like a burden has been lifted from you, because now you don't have to keep these things to yourself. Now you have someone to talk to

"I'm free tomorrow. We could go through the lists in the center together maybe and see what we can do."

"Shane..."

"Stop. No. Don't. Don't get all soft on me and shit. This is still super fucking weird."

"Oh."

"Yea! Like why the fuck do these spirits need raw fish? How the fuck do you repair a building with dead fish?"

"OH!"

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sdv headcanons #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley shane x reader

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adrift-in-thyme · 22 days ago

Note

May I request Fairy Time and Hyrule doing some wing care or teaching the others how to help them take care of their wings?

Yes you absolutely may! Tysm anon!! I hope you don’t mind a bit of angst with all the softness

CW for one mention of blood

———————————————————————-

“How long has it been since you did this?”

Hyrule runs gentle fingers over Time’s wings. They spread grandly on either side, hues of soft greens and delicate blue-violets reflecting the sun’s smiling rays. Usually, they are colored in bold crimson and royal blue, which clash like swords on a battlefield. But today they take on a more tired appearance. Faded, they have begun to droop discouragingly.

Time has never admitted it, but Hyrule has eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his wings change when something is wrong. More often than not, they herald the disturbance before it can truly become known. A flash of forest green and the next thing he knows Time is fading into the mist in search of solitude.

…or collapsing in the middle of the trail.

Now, Time hums, sounding distracted. His hands lie in his lap. Absently, he twists his wedding band back and forth so quickly it is liable to rub a rash into his skin.

(Another nervous habit of his Hyrule has picked up on.)

“I’m not certain,” he admits, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words are spoken with an air of something so desperate to be flippant. “I’ve been occupied with other matters.”

Hyrule blows out a weary sigh.

Other matters like worrying about all of us.

True, things have been strained amongst the heroes since Twilight’s injury. And as unofficial leader — and the rancher’s ancestor — Time has borne the brunt of it all. But still….

Malon had warned him about this.

“Oh, he just doesn’t take care of himself.” She had whispered during a visit to the ranch months ago after Time had fallen asleep at the dinner table. Head resting on her shoulder, he slept far deeper than he had in days.

“I’m not askin’ y’all to hover or anything. Heaven knows you’ve got enough on your plates as it is. But…just check in once in a while, will ya, loves? I don’t want him to lose himself while trying to take care of everyone else.”

Hyrule can’t help but feel that he has failed. The events of the past weeks have left their mark upon him too. Exhaustion has hounded him at every turn, dragging him down so heavily that he has nearly collapsed beneath it. And yet, he had noticed the signs. The quietness, the reservation, the increase in snappishness…the fear. But he had done nothing about them.

It wasn’t until Time had asked if he had taken the time to care for his own wings that he realized he hadn’t seen the older hero settle down to tend to his own lately.

He winces as he weaves the spell into some of the worse areas, mainly gathered around a large scar. These large wings, normally so bright with magic and life, have begun to lose their glimmer. Frightened, they shrivel, curling in one themselves to shield from the light.

With wings like this, flying will soon become agonizing.

Would he have tried to anyway? Hyrule doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Solitude can be harmful. He knows that far too well. But sometimes he wonders just how much of his life Time has spent alone to end up believing it is the only way to get by. Even after this family they have formed along the paths of hardship, even after Malon, it seems to be the road most familiar to the hero.

“You can always ask me, you know.”

He has been gentle this entire time, even more so than he is with his own wings. But with this part, he is extra cautious. He threads the healing magic into Time’s veins with the delicacy of one handling glass.

“I know it’s hard to take care of your wings yourself. And I know it’s even harder to trust others to do it for you. But…” He swallows as his fingertips graze the scar.

What had occurred to create such a chasm? To his knowledge, Time has never spoken of the event. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever will.

“You trust me…right, old man?”

Time looks up, fingers stilling at last.

“Of course, I do, traveler,” he says, softly. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t.”

“Then, let me help you. Please?”

“I’m allowing you to now, aren’t I?”

The traveler huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease.”

There is a smile in his voice, and Hyrule is glad of it. Even still, if the hero believes he’s going to escape without a proper reply, he is sorely mistaken. If Hyrule is known for anything, it’s his infinite stubbornness.

“Come on, old man,” he urges, softly. “Promise me you’ll ask someone to help tend to your wings when you need it. It doesn’t even have to be me. Just ask someone, please.”

Time’s wings are beginning to improve now. Threads of vibrant red glow from beneath the green. Like blood on new cloth, they spread, engulfing the other colors. He watches, slightly awed.

“I love you, Time,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you enduring pain just cause you don’t want to be a burden.”

For a long moment, Time says nothing. The only sounds are the subdued jingles of the spell twined about Hyrule’s fingers and the harmony of their breaths. It is peaceful in a pensive sort of way.

Then, “alright,” he says in a voice taut with emotion. “But only if you allow me to help you when you need it. Don’t think I don’t see how you struggle to remember your own welfare. You are too selfless for your own good.”

Hyrule chuckles. “Well, I could say the same about you.”

A small smile lifts Time’s lips. “Such is the path of the hero, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” The traveler’s gaze goes to the scar once more. “I guess.”

Silence pads in on soft, silken paws and settles down cozily. Time goes back to rotating his ring, though the motions are slower, calmer this time. Hyrule turns his full attention to finishing his task. Above them, the sun smiles, and Time’s wings transfer it in panes of pale red upon the blades of grass.

“Traveler?” Time’s voice is so quiet it is hardly above a whisper. It nudges aside the quiet, murmurs with the wind.

When the hero is in his fairy form, it is as though he is of the nature that surrounds them; as at home amongst the towering trees and great sky, stones and moss and gurgling streams, as the fleet-footed deer or furtive foxes.

Hyrule looks up, head cocked in question. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. And…” Time smiles, so soft it erases years of anguished hardship from his visage. “I love you too.”

The traveler smiles.

#lovely anon #trin writes #fic request #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu hyrule #fairy time au #angst #fluff #ok lore drop in the tags #so fairies have to care for their wings like birds have to preen #they have to do it around once a month at the VERY LEAST #once a week is better #some do it every day #but the way they do it is by weaving a healing spell into them #it doesn’t have to be any specific healing spell #as long as it soothes wounds it’ll work #it rejuvenates their magic #and keeps their wings from drying up #alternatively they can take a dip in a Great Fairy fountain #but the spell works just as well #they can take care of it themselves #although it’s difficult to reach #so they prefer to have someone they trust do it #time has a hard time trusting anyone to do it for him #and it’s difficult for Malon to do it for him #so he usually just does it himself #for better or worse

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warblogs17282 · 1 month ago

Text

So, I've been thinking about the stuff that ghostfuckers told us about Millie, and I got curious and wondered if what we learned about her there could be used to put things shown in the first short and unhappy campers into perspective a bit more.

Hell's Belles:

Some comments from Sallie May interested me, mainly the lines "for your fancy job." and "shiny new life", and there's a line in ghostfuckers I think I can tie into Sallie May generally describing Millie's job and life positively.

That being, "Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon.", and I suspect that Sallie May is still affected by this stereotype, that she feels like she's also a part of that stereotype, considering that we know that she helps out at her parent's ranch.

Which would explain part of the reason why Sallie May calls it 'fancy' and 'shiny', because she may feel like Millie is a notable exception to the stereotype, which would obviously be something that she would describe positively, especially considering that job and life now also consists of killing humans, something that is very much a one of a kind thing. Considering that Millie bought into the stereotype before joining Blitz, it's very probable that Sally May also bought into the same/similar stereotype.

Obviously this is only part of the reason why she describes Millie's job and life like she does, but I still feel like ghostfuckers adds more depth to that statement.

Another thing that I want to mention is the fact that they did some playfighting at the end of the episode, which I think ties into this line in ghostfuckers: "We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for."

Another stereotype, that all Wrathians are good for is muscle, and fighting is a good way of building muscle, which would help to explain why they just naturally fell into playfighting at the end of the episode, because it's implied that they had playfights like this a lot with each other, and considering the stereotype of that all Wrathians are good for is muscle, it makes sense why they have such a history of playfighting with each other, because again, if Millie believed that stereotype before meeting Blitz, it's very likely that Sallie May also believed the same/similar stereotype as well.

Unhappy Campers:

Let's just skip to the boiling point of their argument in this episode, we know that Millie felt undermined during this episode, which we can see with the line "And for once, I feel like... like I'm important. Like I'm someone to be proud of...", which quite heavily plays into the line "We're just Wrathians, Blitzo. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for.", which probably helps to explain part of the reason why Millie felt so strongly about this, just because you know that the stereotype is false doesn't mean it doesn't effect you anymore, it's clearly something that still resides in the back of Millie's head somewhere.

I use that line in particular, because there's two times in the episode before this where we can see Millie be visibly annoyed at Moxxie, and I believe that part of the reason is because she feels like her other qualities are being undermined, with the main one here being her smarts, which kind of plays into the line in ghostfuckers, that stereotype, because considering how prominent that stereotype was for her until meeting Blitz, it's not unreasonable to assume that this specific stereotype was playing in the back of her mind again, which would help to explain part of the reason why she felt so strongly about it when the argument reaches it's boiling point.

Plus, one of the first things Blitz told Millie right after he moved his business to IMP was 'You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring.', showing even further why Millie feels so strongly about this, she probably feels like what Moxxie is doing is a slap in the face to what Blitz told her when they first moved to IMP for their business.

Plus, there's also other relevant lines like "Most of my life I bought into the idea that all I could ever be was a simple farm girl. Or best an underpaid goon." and "Not exactly a shortage of imp assassins in Wrath. Reputation is everything."

"And what's your reputation, hmm?"

Although these are less directly relevant to this scene, I still think it's worth considering into the big picture of why Millie felt so strongly here.

tbh, this is another reason while I'll defend the unhappy campers Moxxie and Millie conflict, it has quite a bit of depth to it if you consider everything, and I've just shown you all that ghostfuckers has given that conflict a bit more depth.

#helluva boss #helluva boss millie #moxxie helluva boss #sallie may #an in depth post from me where the focus isn't on Blitz or Stolas?#color me shocked

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simp-ly-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Dates with Harvey Headcanons

Pairing: SDV Harvey x Reader

Summary: Date locations and activities you would do together throughout the year.

Warnings: longer than I was expecting, brief mentions of drinking.

A/N: Still can't believe it's already 2024- but I distract myself from this information by writing yet another fanfic about a pixelated doctor who I wish to be real. May turn some of these blurbs into longer fics one day.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Spring

↳ You would go on walks together by the community centre as the snow began to melt. Hand in hand underneath the sprouting trees, you would share a lunch together by the fountain and sit on the swings, drifting back and forth as you talked to one another about both everything- and really nothing at all

↳ Driving out with your hand on his knee to go to the closest home and garden store. Picking out new plants for the flower boxes at the clinic as well as for the front garden on the ranch

↳ Once you finish choosing various plants and flowers alongside planting them to the necessary survival conditions. I can see you both sitting on the front steps of the home, sharing a pottle of wine as you watch the sunset together

↳ When a last minute snow falls upon the ground, Harvey brews a kettle for the both of you as you settle on the couch. Flicking on some random reality t.v. show to watch together as you talk about the various things you both want to get done this year

Summer

↳ In the summertime, you and Harvey paint the various fences surrounding the farm alongside the barns, sheds, and stables. It is a time-consuming job as you both sit in a pile of hay, taking a break from the sun within the interior of a barn. All the animals are outside enjoying the weather as you both take a short nap together with your straw-hat's covering your faces from the sun appearing through the cracks between wood panels

↳ In the warm summer nights, you both enjoy a small fire at the back of the house or by the beachside. Cooking a dinner off to the side as you both enjoy a cheeky marshmallow or two before the meal

↳ Taking Willy's boat out to Ginger Island, you both walk up and down the beaches with your sandals in hand. Harvey has a strip of sunscreen across the bridge of his nose while he enforces that you do the same. The poor doctor is already worried about how much you tire yourself out underneath the sun already from working on the various crops and animals

↳ Havrey helps you to set up your display for the community fair, blowing up balloons alongside painting last minute sign details. Anytime someone comes up to compliment your work- you always add how much Harvey helped as well- loving to watch him become a blushing mess before turning around to go chug his water bottle

Fall

↳ In the fall time, you both go out for walks once more since the temperature is dying off. You and Harvey collect various leaves to scrapbook later at home together

↳ From trying to help donate to the museum, Harvey sits in the library for support as he watches you meticulously organize each jewell and artifact to just the right position and room. When you come to take a break, Harvey holds your hand from across the table as he flicks through a medical book he was re-studying. A teapot and a few small snacks sit prepared by the doctor as you squeeze his hand in thanks, Harvey looks up from his book, glasses tipped down his nose as he squeezes your hand back before flipping the page and continues his reading

↳ You and Harvey take knitting classes at the community centre together, making one another a scarf and matching touque. Though having a multitude of loose stitches and a few holes, you both wear them to work proudly as Evelyn chuckles to herself softly- noticing your patchwork

Winter

↳ When the ground becomes frozen and the animals are each tucked away, warm in the barns with wine brewing in the sheds from prior seasons. You decide to take Harvey ice-skating at the local rink a town or two away where the ice is thick enough. A few wobbles and falls into your await arms, you and Harvey skate side by side while discussing the holiday plans

↳ Harvey drives on the way back as you fall asleep on the passengers side. When the car stops back in Stardew Valley- Harvey picks you up as delicately as possible- not wanting to wake your slumber as he takes you inside and to bed. Lighting a fire in the fireplace before cooking a meal for when you awake

↳ Hosting your friends and family at the farmhouse was a test of both your patiences. But the time spent together planning, grocery shopping and choosing wines from the cellar were highly memorable between the jokes said and memories shared from throughout the year

↳ When its snows enough, you both make snow-people together in a competition. Rushing in and out of the house for extra details from carrots to coal, hats and twigs for arms. You stand back, looking at the work as Harvey wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down to plaster a kiss against your cheek

#stardew valley harvey #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #stardew harvey #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfic #harvey x reader #harvey x farmer #fanfic #fanfiction #sdv fanfic #sdv #sdv fanfiction #sdv farmer #stardew valley fanfiction #simp-ly-writes #simp-ly

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winchesterwild78 · 4 months ago

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The Ranch pt 5

Master List

Characters: Jensen-cowboy, single dad, x Reader-city girl moved to country to get away from it all

Warnings/Theme: SMUT!, injury, mention of death, Angst, so much angst

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed cowboy, not an actor in this, lives on a ranch in Texas, is a widower with 3 kids. Reader is a city girl who moves to the country to get away from her ex and start a new life. She takes a job on the ranch and things develop between her and the cowboy. Internal dialogue in italics.

So much love and thanks to @cheynovak for the idea. ♥️ All work is my own. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. Real names are used, but again this is a work of fiction. Do not take my work

*This one is a bit rough. It’s a roller coaster….sorry*

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump to Christmas Time*

You’d been living with Jensen and the kids for almost 9 months and your relationship with all of them was getting stronger. You and Jensen were in love, and the kids were supportive of your relationship.

You helped Jensen on the ranch when the kids were at school, but when the kids were home, you looked after them. Jensen had a strict no work on the weekends policy. Every weekend he was home and present with the kids and you. Since it was getting closer to Christmas it was time to get the decorations out and start decorating the house.

Grabbing your coats and shoes, the five of you headed towards the storage barn where the decorations were. You all piled in the truck and Jensen drove. The kids were excited, and you couldn’t stop smiling. This was your first Christmas together, and you couldn’t wait.

You had been so excited about Christmas shopping that you drug Jensen out the day after Thanksgiving and bought most of the presents then. Jensen loved how much you loved his children. You had stepped into the role of step-mom before you even had the title. The presents were wrapped and hidden up in the hayloft of the horse barn so the kids wouldn’t snoop.

Once at the storage barn, Jensen climbed the ladder to the loft and started bringing down boxes of decorations. You stood at the bottom of the ladder and grabbed the boxes from him. After he got everything down, the two of you loaded it in the truck and headed back up to the house.

A few hours later, most of the decorations were up, and everyone took a much needed break of hot chocolate and cookies. The kids were excited when you told them the five of you were going to bake homemade cookies this coming weekend.

Later that night after the kids were asleep, you and Jensen laid together on the couch, holding each other in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. He tilted your face up to him, “You look so beautiful tonight. I love you so much. I can’t believe this is our first Christmas together.” You smiled at him, “I know, the first of many. I love you too, baby.”

Jensen placed a soft kiss on your lips and his hands started running up your shirt. “What are you doing, cowboy?” Jensen smirked, “Trying to get to home base.” “Don’t you think we should take this upstairs?”

Jensen jumped up and pulled you off the couch, grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs. He walked you to his room, closed and locked the door. He leaned you against the door and kissed you. The need for each other took over, and both of you started shedding clothes like they were on fire.

Jensen grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bed, falling on it with him. You both giggled as you fell. Your lips found each other in a passionate kiss. One that sent electricity through your body and straight to your toes. Jensen’s soft, plump lips landed on yours, his tongue swiped your mouth, parting your lips, his tongue entered and your tongues fought for dominance.

You moaned into his mouth as his hand found your folds. Jensen slid his fingers through, rubbing your clit as he swiped. Your back arched off the bed and your hands grabbed the sheets. Jensen smirked when he felt how wet you were, “Hmm ready for me already?” You moaned out a yes.

His fingers slipped inside your dripping wet cunt, pulling a loud moan from your lips. “Oh, Jensen, please.” He moved his fingers in and out, making you writhe under him. His thumb rubbed circles on your clit as you bucked your hips chasing your release. “Mm, yes baby. I love hearing you moan my name and come undone.” “Jensen..I’m..gonna..cum.” You said through hitching breaths.

Jensen leaned down to your ear and whispered, “Cum for me baby.” That’s all it took, his hot breath on your neck, his fingers pumping you, and his thumb pushing on your clit. You came hard and with a moan. Jensen kept rubbing, helping you get it all out. He felt your walls quiver around his fingers. You were moving and gasping.

A devilish smirk came across his face. Instead of stopping, his head bent down and he started eating you like a starved man. You tried to move, but he held your hips down. You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. Your body was overly sensitive, and Jensen kept going. His tongue licked between your folds and to your clit. He sucked and licked, making you moan and wiggle under him. Your hands instinctively went into his hair. Not knowing if you wanted to pull him further in or push him away. “Jens, oh my god, I can’t….” Jensen leaned up, “Yes you can, come on. I know you have another one in you. Let me taste you.” “Oh fuck! Jensen! I…” Your release washed over you and shot through your whole body before you could process what was happening.

He lapped at your juices as you squirmed. When his head came up, his stubble was glistening with your juices. Jensen leaned in and kissed your lips, you tasted your release, licking at his lips. His rock hard erection laid on your stomach. “Please, Jensen, I need you.”

Jensen leaned back, pumped himself a few times, lined his engorged cock at your entrance and pushed in. You both moaned as he bottomed out, stretching you, and your tight walls clenching his length. Jensen stilled, taking a breath. You always felt so good to him. Your body and his body fit perfectly together.

“Move, Jens, please. I need to feel you.” His body started to move in sync with yours. Your hands grabbed his shoulders as he grabbed your hips. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved his length in and out. The sound of moans and panting filled the room. Jensen’s hips slamming into yours as he chased his release.

His hands running over every inch of your body, yours running over every inch of his. You could feel him getting close, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He started slamming into you faster, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. Wrapping your legs around him tightly, you grabbed his biceps. “I’m gonna cum, baby.” “Cum for me Jensen, fill me up.” Jensen’s cock twitched and you felt his release fill you up. The two of you were so euphoric you didn’t realize he didn’t put on a condom, until he was spilling inside you.

When the two of you came down from your high, and Jensen pulled out, he looked at you wide eyed. “Oh my god, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. We didn’t use protection.” Panic filled Jensen. You softly smiled and touched his arm, “Jens, it’s okay.” “You could get pregnant. Oh god.” He ran his hands down his face in frustration.

You grabbed the sheet and sat up, “Jensen, look at me baby, please. If I get pregnant, it’s okay. I want to have your baby. This might not be exactly how we planned, but we are a family, we love each other, and a baby would be just as loved.” Jensen took a deep breath and let it out, “Yeah, you’re right. Having a baby would be pretty incredible.” You touched his face feeling the stubble, “Yes, it would.”

Jensen kissed your lips softly, got up and went to clean up. He brought back a washcloth and helped clean you up. The two of you laid down in each other’s arms, talking about the future and what that would look like, even if there was a baby.

The next few days went by pretty quickly. The kids were in their last few days of school before break, Jensen was working hard on the ranch, and you were working hard on making sure the kids and Jensen had an amazing Christmas. You had family pictures made around Thanksgiving and for Jensen’s Christmas present you had one put on canvas for the house, and extra prints made. You also had some boudoir photos taken for him. You’d never done anything like that before and you were equally excited and nervous to give them to him. Those of course would be given to him when the kids weren’t around.

You went to the horse barn to put Jensen’s presents up in the loft where you hid the other ones. Coming down off the ladder you noticed Ransom, the larger gray horse was acting strange. “Ransom, what’s wrong boy?” You looked around and noticed Cinnamon was gone and so was a saddle, Jensen must be out riding. You tried to call him and Clif on their phones, but neither answered. You left them both a message, “Hey, I’m at the horse barn and Ransom is acting strange. Can you head this way?”

You walked over to his stall and tried to get him to relax. You noticed he was lifting his back hoof, but you couldn’t see what was wrong. You grabbed the lead rope and put it on him. You rubbed your hand on him trying to calm him. You felt he was calm enough, so you opened the stall to let him out. When he saw the stall open, he bolted and kicked. When he kicked his back legs, he knocked you back into the wall of the barn. You hit your head and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Ransom ran out of the barn outside. Jensen was on a ride and noticed he missed a call from you. He listened to the voicemail and he took off towards the barn. His heart beating wildly in his chest, he was terrified as he approached and saw Ransom running around.

Jensen jumped off of Cinnamon and ran into the barn, he saw you, laying on the floor, bleeding from your head and unconscious. He screamed your name as tears ran down his face. He was reliving Dee’s accident too. “Oh God! Please, Y/N, don’t leave me.” Jensen pulled out his phone and called 911. “Yes, this is Jensen Ackles, at Ackles Ranch, my girlfriend had an accident. She’s bleeding and is unconscious, please hurry. Yes, she’s breathing. I’m not sure, our horse was loose, I can only guess he kicked her. Yes, please hurry. Come on baby, wake up, please.” Jensen sobbed as he held you, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

Clif got your message too and when he saw Cinnamon and Ransom, he knew something was wrong. The sight in front of him broke his heart. Jensen clung to you and sobbed. When he tried to get Jensen to let go, he pushed him away. The paramedics arrived not long after and Clif had to physically restrain Jensen so they could help you. The decision was made to transport you to the hospital, so Clif drove Jensen.

Clif had his wife go to the school and pick up the kids so Jensen didn’t have to worry about them. The decision was made to keep them in the dark for right now. Jensen sat in the waiting room, leg bouncing and crying. “Clif, I can’t lose her. I just can’t. I can’t lose another person I love.” Clif put his hand on Jensen’s shoulder trying to help calm him.

A few hours later a doctor came out to give Jensen an update. Before the doctor could say anything, a man was heard at the desk, “I’m looking for Y/N Y/L/N, I was called and told she’d been in some kind of accident.” Jensen and Clif looked at each other. Clif stepped towards the man, “Excuse me, who are you?” “I’m Alex, I’m her boyfriend.” Jensen’s jaw clenched. “No the fuck you aren’t! She left your ass. How did you find out she was here?!” The doctor looked between Jensen and Alex, not sure who to update. Jensen looked at the doctor, “Please, tell me she’s going to be okay.” The doctor looked at Jensen and Alex, “Well, Miss Y/L/N suffered a bad concussion and a few broken ribs. It seems the horse kicked her, knocked her back and that’s what caused her to hit her head. I did a scan and I don’t see any bleeding on her brain or internally. She’s bruised up and will be in some pain, but she should recover. You’re welcome to go see her. I just ask you to keep the visit short, and I don’t want the two of you in there together. She doesn’t need fighting.” Jensen nodded and thanked the doctor.

Jensen started to walk towards your room and Alex spoke up, “Where do you think you’re going?” Jensen spun on his heels and got in Alex’s face, “I’m going to see MY girlfriend and see how she’s doing. You have no right to be here. Once she’s conscious I’ll have her change her emergency contact so she never has to see you again.” “Oh you think so, pretty boy? I’m here to take her home. I’m going to marry her and give her what she wanted all along. Did she tell you she was willing to have MY children, that she wanted to have MY children?” Jensen clenched his fists, ready to punch Alex in the mouth. Clif stepped in the middle of the two men, “Jens, go to her. She needs you, and as for you, I’d suggest you leave. Before I make you leave.”

Jensen relaxed a little and went to your room. As he entered his heart clenched in his chest. You were so beautiful, but so bruised and battered. He pulled a chair beside your bed and held your hand. “I’m here baby. I love you. We need you to wake up. The kids need you, I need you.” He kissed your hand softly.

The door pushed open and Jensen looked up seeing Clif. “Hey buddy, Alex is gone. I’m not sure if he’s coming back or not, but at least he’s gone for now. How’s she doing?” “She’s still out, thanks Clif, thanks for everything.” “Hey no problem. We’re gonna keep the kids with us so you can stay as long as you want. Don’t worry, we aren’t going to tell them anything until you’re ready. You focus on your girl, we’ve got the rugrats.” Jensen stood and hugged Clif, then Clif left.

Sitting by your bed, listening to the machines beep quickly consumed Jensen. The nurses tried to get him to get something to eat, to leave the room for some fresh air, but Jensen politely declined. The nurses started to bring Jensen food, and coffee. He would eat a little, and drink coffee. Still refusing to leave your side.

The hours turned into days. You’d been unconscious for 4 days now. Jensen grew more weary and scared. The doctors took you in to check for activity in your brain and your response to stimuli. Both tests came back positive. Your brain is working great, and your body responds to stimuli. The doctors told Jensen this was good news.

Jensen kept vigil by your bed. He called Clif and told him he decided they should bring the kids. “I can’t keep this from them any longer. It’s not fair to them. They love her too.” “Okay, Jensen, we will bring them up there.”

Jensen took your hand, “Sweetie, the kids are coming up here to see you. Come on baby, open those beautiful y/c/e eyes so we can see them. His eyes fixed on yours hoping you’d open them. About 20 minutes later the kids were walking in the room. They gasped when they saw you. “Daddy, what happened?” JJ asked almost in a whisper. “Ransom got too excited and kicked her. She hit her head and is sleeping.” Arrow looked at Jensen and then back at you, “Daddy, is she going to die?” Jensen’s heart broke. He started crying and pulled his children into his arms. “Oh baby, we don’t know for sure. The doctor doesn’t think so, but we don’t know.”

The kids moved closer to the bed and asked Jensen if they could touch you. He nodded. Arrow just kept staring at you. She didn’t touch you, but she walked up to the head of the bed. Jensen and Clif exchanged looks. Zeppelin grabbed your other hand, and JJ held on too. “Come on Miss Y/N, you have to wake up, it’s almost Christmas. We have to bake cookies for Santa.” Zeppelin said in a soft voice.

Jensen’s heart clenched. Zeppelin looked at Jensen, “Daddy, can you tell Santa I changed my mind. I don’t want presents. I just want Miss Y/N to wake up.” Jensen’s breath hitched. Clif and Jensen decided the kids had been there long enough. He didn’t want them to see you for too long in the state you were in. The kids protested leaving, but eventually they agreed because Jensen said they could come back tomorrow.

Arrow just stood at your head looking at you. “Arrow, come on honey, it’s time for you to go.” She looked at Jensen and nodded. Before she walked away, she leaned down and softly kissed your cheek, “I love you, please don’t leave me.” She started to walk away and Jensen gasped. Your eyes were opening.

Everyone gathered around your bed again, and watched as your eyes fluttered open. When you opened your eyes you looked around and saw Jensen, the kids and Clif. Tears running down their faces. “What happened?” You said in barely a whisper. Jensen told you everything that happened. You looked over at Arrow and smiled. “I could never leave you my sweet girl.” She threw her arms around you and kissed your cheek.

After the doctors came in and checked you, the kids and Clif left. The doctors said everything was looking good, your ribs were healing, but you still had your concussion. You’d have to take it easy for a while. He also said if everything else came back good, and you did good for the rest of the night, you could go home tomorrow.

Jensen was excited. He kept kissing you, and holding your hand. He looked exhausted. “Jens, I’m okay. Why don’t you go home, get some rest and be back here early to pick me up. Please baby, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” “I don’t want to leave you, baby.” “I know that, but you’re no good to me and my recovery if you end up in the hospital too. Please, go home, eat, and sleep. I will call you if I need anything.” “Okay, but I’ll be back bright and early.” You smiled, kissed him and said, “I wouldn’t expect any less. I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too baby. I’ll be back bright and early.” He kissed you again and left.

When Jensen got back home, he fixed him something to eat, he jumped in the shower and then collapsed on the bed. Letting the exhaustion overtake him, he fell asleep.

The nurses were glad you were awake, they told you how Jensen refused to leave your side and how they were glad you convinced him to go rest. “That man loves you so much, I thought he was going to beat up the other guy that showed up.”

You looked confused, “What other guy, Clif?” “No, the younger guy, umm, Alex. He said he was your boyfriend. I guess he was listed as your emergency contact and the hospital called him.” “Oh god, he’s my ex. Can I change my emergency contact now? I don’t want him being called or giving any updates on me.” “Sure honey, let me get the paperwork, and I’ll get it filled out for you.”

The nurse left. Oh my god. I can’t believe he showed up here. What was he doing here? A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. “Come in” you called. Looking up you came face to face with Alex. “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with venom in your voice. “I was called and told you had an accident. I came to see my girlfriend.” “I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I broke up with you.” “Yeah, but now I’m back and I’m here to give you everything you wanted.” Alex dropped to his knees and pulled out a ring, “Will you marry me?” “What the hell is wrong with you? I told you we broke up. Get the hell out of here. I don’t want you, I’m not going to marry you and I sure as hell am not going to have your children.”

Alex stood up and his jaw clenched, “You bitch! You said you wanted to marry me, now you’re shacking up with pretty boy and you think you’re in love.” “He’s not going to want to marry you when he finds out what you did.”

Your eyes shot up at him, “Please Alex, don’t say anything to him.” “Oh, so you haven’t told him. I bet he’d be interested in knowing what kind of person you are. Doesn’t he have kids? Hmm, how do you think that would go over?” “Alex, please you can’t tell him.” “I won’t, if…” “If what?” “If you agree to marry me.” “Alex, I can’t. I love Jensen and his kids, please there has to be some other way.” “Nope, say you’ll marry me or I'll tell pretty boy about your past.” Tears filled your eyes. You love Jensen, but you could never tell him. He’d hate you, he’d never understand. “Fine, I’ll marry you, but please let me tell him. If I’m going to break his heart, I want to be the one who tells him. He deserves that.” “Fine. I’ll be back here tomorrow at about 1pm to get you and take you home.” He leaned down, grabbed your face and kissed you roughly.

As he left, tears fell. You sobbed and gasped for air. Knowing you were about to break Jensen’s heart, the man who you loved more than anything, the man you wanted to marry and have children with. The man who you knew was your soulmate. You had to though, you couldn’t tell him about your past. He could never understand, and he’d never love you again once he knew. So, you had to break his heart.

Part 6

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader

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jolalibrary · 2 years ago

Text

coming home

summary: home. that’s what he feels like home. in truth, he has done for a stupidly long time. Longer than you care ever to admit.

javier peña x f!reader word count: 2k (this was supposed to be 500 words) content warnings: happy!javi, people saying i love you, tiny mention of spice, but more fluff. this is fluff. this is happiness, this is joy

Laredo nights are warm, and the days are hotter.

The heat all dry, hanging—practically draping itself over all it can touch. And it reminds you of Bogotá.

Splashing water on your face, you let the cool droplets hang from your still-smiling cheeks and cling to your lashes. Pausing before haphazardly drying your face and meeting yourself in the mirror.

The one in the bathroom of a friend of a friend of his. Someone he’s always known from here, in the city that is home for him—the same city which is slowly becoming the same for you.

You adjust the collar on your dress, staring at the person smiling back at you, the one in this mirror and the one in his room. A person you are slowly getting to know, not used to seeing you smile with so much ease—or your cheeks warming by a stare from him here.

Taking one last look, you step out. Your soles click against the tiled floor before you’re welcomed back by the setting sun and the lively yard.

Before here, you’d never really been an outdoor person. Had always preferred being inside, tucked away, nestled under a shitty desk or bedside light with papers or a book. But, here in Laredo, living on a ranch with him—with Javi—it’s different.

Here, you find more comfort on a chair on the deck than you do inside. You enjoy taking stock of the place—spotting him walking up to greet you—and even the feeling of the sun on your skin. More so when his brow furrows, glasses falling down the slope of his nose as his lips slide up into one cheek; outside again, cariño?

It’s another surprising development of being with him. A thing he has also noted—another thing which has changed since the two of you moved into his childhood home.

Once in the yard, you're again greeted by the air, all thick, peppered with BBQ smoke and stuffed with loud music, with background instruments of laughing children and people catching up.

Even if the sun is setting and the party should be simmering down, there are still plenty of people here. All smiling, all too happy to be here under poorly hung fairy lights and drinking once-cold beer.

No one is ready to call it a night.

It’s nice. Normal. Or it should be—and should feel so.

No danger is imminent, no threat, no reason for anxiety to be thrumming through your veins. No reason for you to be on edge, even just a little bit. There’s just him, you and the boats.

The ones you watch when you pretend you’re not, the ones he notices before explaining that he’s happy with his choice. Both see through the other but never bringing it up—never wanting to pick the scab, which is becoming smaller by the day.

You know so because he always follows it with a kiss. A seal, a stamp of believe me. Your finger always slides along his bottom lip, thumb and middle on either side of his chin. They bother me too.

You know neither of you has any more to give, not much left in either of you to be whisked away to another country to fight another battle. Not yet, maybe never. Both have found small ways to slide shards of the other back into place with some comfort that, eventually, the two of you may even heal.

Glancing over at him, you find his eyes already on you. Your hand grabs another beer without even looking, holding his gaze—even through the shades on his face and the ones on yours.

You don’t mind that he’s had them on you since you excused yourself since you vanished in the house and until you stepped back into view. You do the same—watch, admire. Take every available second to stare and drink him in, still only half-believing this is reality and not some fantastic dream.

A pinch-your-forearm moment: because you’re safe; because he’s safe. Because he wanted you here with him.

Sometimes, you hold him too tight. Curl into him so your ear is pressed over his heart, listening to the steady thump which carries you to sleep. If he minds, he never speaks it—sometimes, he holds you back like you’re a raft that’ll stop him from drowning.

Holding the bottle up, you see him shake his head. Short, curt—very distinctively Javi in a sea of people who keep shaking his hand. His stare on you, likely desperately, as you walk back, remaining on you as you slide around tables and smile at people who nod in your direction.

Don’t leave me alone for too long, cariño.

Their unrestrained joy at his arrival, your eyes watching it double as you stepped out from behind his shadow, hand firmly in his. You don’t know them, the gaggle of people waiting at the yard gate, but you know their voices rise octaves at the sight.

And who is this? They’d asked when the two of you rocked up, Chucho’s apparent heads up to them all not enough of an introduction. Esta es mi novia—

Novia.

Sometimes, you feel your ears burn when it registers what he’s called you: girlfriend, his. At times, you almost pinch yourself in disbelief at how lucky you are. That you get him morning, noon and night—that you get a future, one which (at times) had felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

Tipping his shades down his nose, they balance near the tip, letting molten brown smother you as you allow the hem of your dress to swing around your knees. It’s intentional how long you take to get back to him. Let him watch you walk towards him—choosing him—without fear or hesitation that you’ve decided to be here with him.

It happens slowly, but it almost stops your heart—his smile. It broadens on your approach, spreading through his cheeks and eyes, and you could swear everything gets a bit brighter. More saturated. More vibrant and full of life.

Then, it shifts, spotting the mischievous glint spreading like wildfire as he runs his thumb against his bottom lip. Words—ones all sugary and sweet, tainted with filth, that he whispers into your ear as he tells you to be quiet—are heard in your mind. The ones in that voice he whispers late at night when his fingers tease your bundle of nerves, and his hips meet yours.

That’s what makes you smile—right from your lips to your eyes—the fact you can hear him without him speaking a word.

You don’t lower the yellow-toned aviators on your nose, the ones you’d ‘borrowed’. You know he can see the same glint mirrored in yours.

“Hey, handsome.”

He snorts, letting his fingers—all long and calloused—wrap around your wrist delicately before pulling you closer. Doing so until you fold into him, his hands moving you until you’re in his lap.

Then, a different heat slides over you, the scent of him filling your nose and soothing your tense muscles. An effect once only felt with good coffee and a perfect day—now all your days were perfect, or as close to as you could get.

“Fuck, cariño. You in these dresses...”

Taking a sip, the beer drenches your tongue. A taste you’d acquired, grown used to since arriving hours before.

You hum, light and airy. Letting it vibrate through you to him as you lie back into his chest, feeling the firmness of it and his cheek sliding against your neck.

Home.

That’s what he feels like home.

In truth, he has done for a stupidly long time. Longer than you ever care to admit. Because it means admitting you'd been running from this, from him: from happiness.

Instead, you let it coat you, hang itself around your shoulders as if his broad shoulders and long arms are forever there. A comfort, a joy you can barely describe.

You feel him let out a breath, one he allows to dance along the fabric—and across your collarbone, before you turn your head to meet his eyes. Almost seeing your reflection in them, fingers lightly brushing back a strand which has fallen across his forehead.

“You like them?”

His fingers pinch the skirt in his fingers, tugging it, letting it rise up to your knees. “Like them… fuck, cariño. I love them.”

It’s easier to take a sip and return to staring out—to keep indecent thoughts at bay. But he has other ideas. Calloused fingers gliding up the back of your knee, under the hem of your dress. Along the side of your outer thigh, your teeth nip the inside of your cheek, shifting your spine against his chest.

Whispering, you dip your chin—hiding your lips behind your hand, “Javi. If you keep doing that, I’ll begin making my own music.”

He groans, all breathy and low. The most perfect sound—one which dances to your ears, making your hips shift. It’s hard not to feel how hard he is—rocking against him ever so slightly, purposefully, as the arm around your waist tightens.

Stop.

It’s a silent protest. A pleading one. One that says you win, even if you never really wanted to. Because you have never really listened to reason—something you’re sure he appreciates. Something he's grateful for, even if currently he wishes it wasn’t in a yard full of family friends.

Your head turns, sinking into his eyes again—all beautiful brown and soft flecks of gold. “If you want me to stop, you have to stop; otherwise, we’ll have to excuse ourselves.”

“I know.”

Your eyes scan the party. The one littered with faces you don’t know, and faces he knows all too well. They’re all invested in one another, laughing, joking. His Pop’s across the way, talking to another older man. You’re about to tear your eyes back to him, when Chucho glances over, tilting his hat—that signature half-smile on his face. The same one you were given through the blinds—one you were sent in the rearview mirror when you first landed and found out Chucho had cancelled your motel reservation.

I’m staying at the— No, you’re not. Javi… Pop’s orders. And I'm not arguing with him.

Rolling your lips, you smile softer—settling back against Javi, feeling him relax as a song begins playing. One softer than the others, more guitar strings than thumping beats. Your back finds that comfortable space against his chest. The one you so often find when it’s just the two of you, and he refuses to let you sit in a chair beside him.

“I like you being here,” he whispers. “In Texas… with me.”

The tip of your tongue pokes out, swiping across your bottom lip. “Even when I sing awfully into wooden spoons in the kitchen?”

“More so.”

“Shit,” you smirk, sliding sideways on his lap, still curled into him, “You really like me...”

He tightens his arms around your waist, fingers digging in, holding you in place. “I really do, cariño.”

You pick at the label on the bottle, trying to hide your warming skin and a huge grin, resting your head on the space between his shoulder and neck.

“You happy here… with me?”

Swallowing, you purposefully meet his eyes, the ones already studying you, trying to unpick whatever your expression is saying.

“Never been happier, Javi.”

“Okay, cariño,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Good.”

You wait for a beat, staring out at the party. At the group of women dancing around their bags, the young couple dancing so woven together it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Slowly, you graze your fingers over his jaw, nails drawing a circle. “I love you too,” you whisper, not turning your head.

For a brief moment, he stills. And just as quickly, he shifts, taking your chin with his fingers as he lifts your eyes to his.

They’ve been swimming there for a while—in both of your eyes. Years of fear of getting close to someone muting them, halting them from escaping. There’s nothing to run from now—

“I love you, cariño.”

You consider a thousand other words, an assortment of paragraphs you think of constantly that he deserves to know.

But, instead, you kiss him. Coat his lips in your adoration, appreciation and love. Pressing those three words over and over as he kisses them back.

Surrounded by heat, sitting under fairy lights as the sun sets, you can't help but think, it's been another perfect day.

an: i needed this as much as everyone else.

javier peña masterlist

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javi peña #javier peña fanfiction

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yelenasdiary · 9 months ago

Text

Forbidden || Chapter II Day One

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Bishop! Reader.

Summary: Just outside of the small town of Blisswater, lives two young sisters, Kate & Y/n Bishop. It's hard not to know who the Bishops are, Kate is the eldest by a year. She is a beautiful young woman, smart, protective and is known to have a talent in using a bow. Y/n, she is shy but quiet as some would say but nevertheless, she holds her own talents and can often be seen tending to the animals of Bishop Ranch. One evening while Kate is out hunting to make some money, Y/n is surprised with an unwanted guest, Yelena Belova. A bounty Hunter from Drybellow who has taken shelter in the young Bishop's barn after being wounded from a gun fight.

Struggling to keep money following, Y/n has no choice but to take the bounty hunter's offer of $5 a day if she is able to help the woman recover. During Yelena's stay, the two grow closer, a little too close if the wrong pair of eyes were to see them.

Warnings:Homophobia (given the time setting, reader believes same sex relations are wrong), Mentions of death, Mentions of guns & blood, | 3.2K |

Forbidden Masterlist

I woke up to the warmth of the morning sunrise kissing me through the bedroom window, Kate was coming back tomorrow, and I needed to make sure that Yelena was fit enough to move on before Kate sees her. I made my way to the kitchen and began to make some coffee along with some porridge before I went to check on the blonde woman.

"I brought you coffee and something to eat" I smiled softly as I opened the door, Yelena looked terrible. I placed the tray of food and coffee on my dresser, "you're burning up" I added when I placed my hand on her forehead that was dripping in sweat. She looked pale and instantly, I knew this wasn't a good sign. "Let me look at your wound" I said, helping the woman sit up.

"It's fine" Yelena coughed her words, trying to hide the pain she was in. "Yeah, you look fine" I shook my head as I peeled back her cloth bandage. "It doesn't look as bad as it feels" I looked at Yelena. "It'll be fine, some whisky will help with the pain" she replied. I'm no doctor but I did know that if she had enough whisky, the pain would fade away. "Eat something first. I'm going to go to town and see if there is anything I can get for you"

She placed a hand on my wrist and shook her head, "it's an infection, my body has to fight it. Just some whiskey will be fine" she spoke before coughing once more, "well I don't know about you, but I still need to go to town and get some supplies. I'll be sure to get you some more whisky" I replied as I began to reapply her bandage, "I'll get you a wet cloth for your temperature then I will be on my way" I added.

Yelena was in no shape to be moving from my bed and I was not too sure on how to help her. She was right, her wound was infected. I worried that maybe I caused it while I was trying to patch her up last night and I wasn't sure how I was going to help her recover.

I gently placed a cool, wet cloth on the bounty hunter's forehead, "I won't be long, you're lucky I live close" I remind her, she just smiled softly at me, too weak to say anything. "Get some rest" I turn to her before closing the door. I debated with myself whether I should lock the door for safety or not, I mean, she was still a stranger but I thought, given her situation, she'd still be in bed by the time I returned.

"Come on, Lucky! Let's go to town" I patted my thigh as Lucky comes running towards me from the living room. I grabbed some money, $5 from the money Yelena had given me last night and grabbed my mother's pouch bag before Lucky and I were on our way. The walk to town felt like any other morning walk, if you don't consider that I am hiding a stranger at my home. I greet everybody in passing with a smile and a soft good morning before I reach Mr Wilson's store.

"Good morning, Y/n. You're here a lot earlier than usual, is everything okay?" He asks with a concerned look. I smiled and nodded, "everything is well, I have just come for some supplies before Kate comes home tomorrow" I replied before grabbing a couple of apples from the basket. I grabbed a few small items such as a couple or peaches, some bread rolls, grounded coffee, butter crackers and a bottle of brandy.

"What does a young woman like you need with this?" Mr Wilson asked as I placed my items at the counter. "It's not for me!" I replied in a panic, "it's for my father, I just wanted to get him something nice for when he and mother come home" I added. My excuse worked like a charm, Mr Wilson nodded, "we both know how much your father likes his brandy" He chuckled has he took the $5 note from my hand, giving me the 50c in change. "Thank you" I smiled politely as I placed the items in my bag, "I'll be seeing you" I added before walking out of the store.

"Y/n, wait up!" I heard Peter call as Lucky and I slowly began to make our way home, I turned to see the young boy running towards us. "Good morning, Peter, what's the hurry?" I asked with a welcoming smile.

"Oh, no hurry" he smiled back, "I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for a picnic lunch by small Talon's Lake?" He asked with such kindness. "If this was any other day, I would say yes but I can't today, I'm sorry. I have things to do around the ranch before Kate returns" I replied with a soft smile, hoping not to hurt his feelings.

"Well, that is more than okay. Maybe I could give you a hand, you know, early finish and we might still be able to make an afternoon of it" Peter offered, making it harder to kindly turn him down.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to make my issues yours" I replied as we began to slowly walk towards home. "Nonsense, I'd love to help" he insists.

Now my fear is him seeing the blonde stranger that is currently in my bed with a gunshot wound. Kate is due home tomorrow, and I don't think I want to hear her lecture about strangers at the homestead once more, but I also can't risk Peter growing any suspicion. "Well, if you insist. I guess I could use some help cleaning the barn if you're up for it" I suggest.

"Perfect! I love shovelling hay and horse droppings" Peter chuckled.

When we got back to the ranch, I gave Peter the okay to start without my while I used the excuse of putting away the store brought goods which to my relief, he was more than happy to do so. I waited until he disappeared into the barn before I rushed to my room to check on Yelena.

"I got you some brandy, but I have a friend here and you can't be seen" I handed her the bottle, I was glad to see that her condition hadn't worsened in my short absence. She chuckled as she popped open the bottle, "I don't think I have the energy to move to even be seen" she replied. Her eyes sparkled with the gentle kiss of sunlight that lit up the room and for some reason, I suddenly wished I was able to admire them for a moment longer, but that would be wrong.

"H-how are you feeling?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the beauty her eyes held.

"I'll be fine, I'll drink this and rest up. Go be with your friend" Yelena replied but I much rather be here with her, watching over her and learning more about her bounty hunting stories but with Peter here, I knew it wasn't possible. "Okay, I will try to be as fast as I can. I'm going to send him home after we clean the barn"

Yelena just nodded before taking a large mouthful of brandy as I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. Peter had already started shoveling the old hay by the time I got to the barn to give him an extra hand, he greeted me with a smile that most other girls would've blushed over, and I thought maybe something was wrong with me.

"I wasn't sure where you wanted me to put anything, so I just started a pile over here, don't worry, I'll help you remove it" His words broke my train of thought, I smiled, "thank you. Let's get through this as quickly as we can, shall we?" I replied before grabbing a shovel.

After what seemed like hours, I was able to get Peter to move along and head home. I went back inside and washed myself off before I checked on Yelena. She was sleeping, the bottle of brandy sat on the wooden table beside my bed, maybe I was looking at her for a moment too long, but she looked so peaceful, like an angel being kissed by the sun for the first time. Lucky slight head butt on my leg snapped me from my trance, "come on boy, let's get you some food" I whispered before quietly closing the door.

----

I woke up to the alerting growl of Lucky by the front door, my hand hovered over the sawed off shotgun that lent up against the wall beside the door as I slowly opened the door. I was greeted with the warm, welcoming smile of Aunt May. All of us young ones called her Aunt May, she was basically an aunt to all of us.

"I'm so sorry, did I wake you?" She said.

"Oh, don't stress" I replied with a smile, "I should've been up already" I added.

"Well as long as I didn't wake you! Peter said that Kate was off on her hunting again, so I made you an applesauce cake, can't have you starving now can we?" Her smile returned as she handed me a small picnic basket with the delicious goods inside.

"You didn't have to do that, thank you aunt May!" I spoke, the smell of the freshly baked cake reminding me that I should have some breakfast and check that Yelena was still breathing. "I would invite you but the place it a bit of a mess" I added.

"That's okay love, I have a few other things I need to get done today. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay"

"Thank you, I will be sure to try my hardest to save some of this for Kate too" I replied with a playful chuckle, "have a wonderful day" I added.

"You too honey, if you need anything, you know where to find me" Aunt May smiled once more before making her way towards the main gate. I closed the door and placed the basket on the dining table before knocking softly on my bedroom door. I heard a light groan come from Yelena, as I opened the door, I could see she was in worse shape than yesterday.

"Oh god, let me get you a wet cloth! You're sweating so much" I said in a panic before rushing to the kitchen. Lucky didn't follow me, he stayed by the foot of my bed to keep an eye on Yelena. Lucky isn't trained too much, he's just naturally a very smart dog, smarter than most. I quickly placed the cloth on Yelena's forehead, she was pale, and I knew her wound was becoming infected rather quickly. She groaned a little from the pain when I removed the bandage to have a look.

My mind was racing with worry, how on earth would I tell Kate that there might be a lifeless body in my bed? How to tell Kate that I let a complete stranger into our home? I can't let Yelena die! Then the only person I could think of that might be able to help was a woman who lives down the road. Her name is Wanda, people genuinely believe she's a witch. I don't believe she is, we all have things we are passionate about and to me, she's more like a herbalist to me.

"I need to get you something before this gets any worse" I said as I looked up at Yelena.

"I'll be fine, it'll pass" she replied, completely unbothered by the dangerous risk of dying!

I shook my head, "you're not dying on my watch!" I replied sternly. Yelena didn't fight back, she took another mouthful of brandy and closed her eyes. "Lucky, stay, I'll be back in few minutes" I commanded him just before I walked out the door. I quickly changed out of my night gown and walked out the back door. If I run through the small section of trees, I can get to Wanda's home quicker.

~Wanda's POV~

I was enjoying a hot black current tea that I made freshly when I heard a panicked knock on my door. As I made my way to the door, my eyes were caught by the parcel that was left on my porch yesterday, a letter was not attached but my name written in cursive was staring back at me.

"Y/n, is everything okay?" I asked after I opened the door. She was slightly out of breath, and she spoke very quickly, I could barely understand what she was saying. "Y/n, take a breath" I said, placing my hands on both her shoulders. A few moments passed and she began to calm down, something was wrong. "Now, tell me, is everything okay?" I asked once I knew she was able to talk in sense.

"Ye- Kate, she's hurt! Shot and it's getting infected fast, I don't know what to do!" she explained, my heart skipped a beat. These girls have always been so kind to me, I couldn't let anything happen to them. I nodded, "I have some tea that will slow the infection. I need a few days to make a medicine that will fight the infection, but I need to travel for the missing herbs, come in" I explained.

The younger sister followed me through to the kitchen, I noticed how she wasn't interested in eyeing my belongings as I reached for the jars of herbal tea. I gave her three small jars that would cover the days I needed to be able to make a cure. "Give her a jar a day! Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Don't give her any alcohol, this is all she needs for now. Try to keep her temperature from peaking, I will stop by the day after tomorrow, okay?"

Y/n nodded, "she's already had some brandy is it okay to give her a mug now?" She asked.

"Yes, but not a single drop more of brandy or anything else" I replied.

"Thank you, Wanda, I will repay you for this!"

"Don't be silly, this is Kate's life we are talking about, there is no need to pay me" I told her, "The sooner she gets that into her system, the better" I reminded her. She nodded and thanked me once more before rushing out of my home. I wasted no time in gathering some basic needs before saddling Sparky up and beginning my journey to the Grand Point Mountains to pick some red sage.

~Y/n's POV~

I raced home with the jars that Wanda had given me, I didn't care for the twigs that got caught in my hair as I ran through the trees and bushes to get home. I wanted Yelena to take this as soon as possible. Kate was coming home tomorrow, and I needed Yelena to be in better condition than what she was.

Lucky was still sitting by the foot of my bed when I returned, Yelena seemed even weaker than before. "Here, I have something for you" I spoke softly as she barely opened her tired eyes, "drink this" I added, handing her the steel cup of herbal tea that Wanda had kindly given me. I watched as the bounty hunter took a mouthful; her face turned to disgust.

"What is that?" She asked.

"I have no idea, it's herbal tea, I think. It'll slow the infection from your wound for a few days until I am given a cure" I explained. Yelena took another mouthful of the tea as I took the almost emptied bottle of Brandy, "you can't have any more of this, just that tea" I told her, but she didn't seem to care too much.

Lucky ran out of the room with a bark that made me jump suddenly, "what is it boy?" I asked as if he could actually talk to me, I followed him and saw him patiently sitting at the front door wagging his tail on the wooden floor. He only ever did this if Kate was home or our parents had returned. My eyes widen as I rushed to the living room window that faced the front of our house. Arrow was being walked down the path by Kate, a large animal of some sort was stowed onto Arrows back, she was back too early!

Quickly, I ran back to my room. "Okay so, my sister is back, earlier than expected. So, until I have worked out why she's home early and how to tell her I am housing a stranger, I really, really need you to be as quiet as you possible can"

Yelena simply nodded, "I can do that" she replied.

"Thank you" I smiled softly before leaving her to get some rest, locking my bedroom door once again.

I waited for Kate to stable Arrow and come inside before I pretended to be surprised that she was home early. "Hey, do you know why there's blood in the barn?" Kate asked as she entered the living room where I was pretending to read a book.

"Kate! you're back early, everything okay? Uh, blood? Not a clue. I cleaned the barn out yesterday after you left. Peter helped, maybe he cut himself" I replied, trying my best to be as normal as I could.

"It's cruel that you lead that boy on" Kate shook her head, "there's a storm coming in. A big one by the looks and I didn't want to get caught in it" she added.

"Lead him on? I have never shown an ounce of interest in a romantic manner" I replied. Kate chuckled, "does he know that?"

I rolled my eyes at her and returned my attention to the book I had opened on a random page. "Come on, you can help me skin this elf before the storm hits" my sister instructed. I didn't fight her on it either, anything to keep her from finding Yelena in my bedroom was a good thing.

----

"I see aunt May dropped by" Kate said as she placed out dinner dishes in the sink to be washed.

"Yeah, apple sauce pie! She dropped it off this morning" I replied as I placed Lucky's dinner on the floor for him, elk meat that we couldn't eat.

"What's this?" Kate asked, holding one of the jars that Wanda had given me. I panicked as I racked my brain for an answer, "oh, just something Wanda gave me on her way to town this morning" I replied. My answer didn't seem to make Kate think of anything otherwise, she placed the jar down on the counter and turned on her feet to look at me, "well, I'm going to go wash up. Do you mind put some more wood on the fire?" she asked.

"Of course" I smiled.

While Kate was busy in the bathroom I took Yelena's third cup of Wanda's herbal tea into her. "I hope you don't mind I sleep in here tonight" I whispered, I planned to sleep on the floor on one of my father's old bedrolls that was kept under my bed.

"I hope you don't mind" Yelena whispered back before she downed the herbal tea in one go, "this tastes horrible, I hope you know that" she added.

"I can imagine" I smiled softly, "I'll be back once my sister has gone to bed" I added.

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #fanfiction #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #forbiddenau #marvel

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fortheloveofwonderland · 6 months ago

Text

Rusty | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - You and Spencer start making plans to leave Bandera. When Spencer makes a discovery about Luke, it leads to him having a blow out with the whole BAU team before saying his goodbyes to his old friends.

A/N - there will be a time jump after this chapter and things will ramp up pretty fast. Also just to note, if it seems like Spencer takes two steps forward and five back sometimes it’s because he does. Healing is not linear and he still has a long way to go.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - dissociation, jealousy, swearing, tears, arguing, mentions of prison and vague hints of sexual abuse, mentions of Cat Adams and Ben’s Believers, Luke and Spencer are both mean, goodbyes, sad BAU team.

WC - 6.8k

Chapter 16 - Take Your Memory With You

Grant was whistling to himself as he swept the barn floor, finishing up making the ranch look as presentable as possible. He was working tirelessly getting the place to look as orderly and neat as he could before he had a realtor round to get the old place on the market.

He was slightly wistful about the idea of selling his parents ranch but the excitement he felt about taking the next step outweighed it. He’d already eagerly been looking at homes in DC and Virginia, scouring job vacancies and preparing for his potential move.

He and Luke spoke on the phone and texted every chance Luke had available whilst working on a case he could tell Grant little about. Every time his phone went off and he saw Luke’s name on the screen he got butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t know this, but Luke also experienced the same thing when Grant texted him.

It was probably crazy that he was considering this, packing up his life and moving to the other side of the country for a man who was supposed to be a one night stand.

He’d never once allowed himself to throw caution to the wind, to do something reckless like this. He was sensible, predictable, he didn’t do things like this. But that was part of the reason he wanted to do this.

It might be insane and it might end up being the dumbest thing he’d ever done but he had to give it a try. Luke had made him feel things he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt and it was worth the risk to see if there could be something lasting between them.

As he finished sweeping, he wiped his brow on his sleeve and leant the broom against the wall of the barn. As he did so, he heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the gravel. His brows pinched together, he wasn’t expecting company.

He picked up his shotgun which was leaning near the broom but didn’t raise it, taking a few cautious steps out of the barn with it by his side. He was surprised to see Spencer headed up the path, one hand in a thick splint and the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wore a brown suede stetson which covered his mess of hair.

Grant placed the shotgun back down and rubbed his hands together as the other man slowly approached. Spencer was offering him a slightly lopsided smile as he grew closer.

“Uh, hey, sorry to just show up here like this.” Spencer rolled his lip awkwardly between his teeth.

“Not a bother.” Grant shrugged. “What can I do you for?”

Spencer removed his stetson, holding it in his good hand while he considered how to begin. He’d told you last night he was going to get moving on selling the ranch so the two of you could make a break before Luke inevitably showed back up and that’s what he was trying to do.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush.” Spencer exhaled. “I’m leaving Bandera and wondered if you were looking to acquire any more land? I’ll be leaving my cattle and two of my horses as well if that sweetens the deal. I’m not looking to break even or anything, I just need a quick sale.”

Grant narrowed his eyes on Spencer curiously, a small smile creeping to his lips.

“Well I’ll be, I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Grant chuckled deeply.

“You’re leaving too?” Spencer’s brows pinched together.

“Yeah, I’m relocating to the East Coast.”

“Oh,” Spencer pulled a face. “How come?”

Grant chuckled again before a dreamy smile spread across his features and Spencer could tell he was getting a little lost in a memory.

“I, uh, met someone.” His cheeks flushed. “I reckon it makes me a damn fool for upping sticks for a man I hardly know but he’s not like anyone I ever met before. But I’m gonna make it to DC if the creek don’t rise.”

Spencer felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision becoming blurry around the edges. He stared at Grant as the cogs turned in his head. Surely it had to be a coincidence? It could not be feasible that Grant was talking about…no, no way.

“Uh, DC?” Spencer croaked. “Weird, that’s where I’m from.”

Suddenly Grant’s brow furrowed heavily and he sucked in a deep breath as he remembered something Luke had said before he’d left.

“Never chose this life, it chose me. Always thought I’d get out of the south one day, move to some big city, ya know? New York, LA…maybe even DC. Unless that idea scares ya.”

“Why would it…why would it scare me?”

“You seem like the jumpy sort.”

“I was still processing an old break up. It ended suddenly and I never got any closure. But I think I have now, I think I’m ready to move on.”

“Hold on a gosh darn second,” Grant shook his head. “He’s not…you’re not…”

“Luke,” Spencer exhaled. “Luke Alvez?”

Both men’s expressions fell, skin paling as they came to the same conclusion. Spencer’s head started to spin and his vision grew even hazier.

“You’re the break up he was talkin’ about.” Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had no idea, Spencer.”

“It’s fine.” Spencer shook his head, his tone saying it was anything but fine. “I’ve moved on. He should too. You two would make a great couple.”

It seemed as though you and Spencer weren’t the only ones with the same taste in men. Spencer stumbled backwards at the implications, feeling lightheaded.

“If I’d known-”

“It’s really fine,” Spencer laughed but it didn’t sound genuine. “You’ll love DC, it’s great. Uh, I should probably…go.”

Before Grant could say another word, Spencer was turning and running back down the path towards the road. Grant watched him go with a sigh. Of all the men in the world, he’d ended up in bed with Spencer’s ex. And clearly Spencer was not as fine with it as he made out.

***

When Spencer arrived back at the ranch he was in a complete daze. You found him wandering outside the lodge aimlessly. His eyes were unfocused, he wouldn’t respond to your voice or to your touch.

You led him inside but he didn’t even seem to realise what was happening. You sat him on the couch and went about breaking him out of his dissociation. You placed ice cubes in his hand, got him to drink some honey and lemon tea and used the photograph of his mom to snap him out of it.

You knew he’d gone into town to ask around if anyone was interested in buying his land, what had led to his dissociation? You wondered how long he had been in this state for, how long he had been wandering around like a zombie. You were grateful he’d made it back without hurting himself.

It took close to fifteen minutes but suddenly his eyes were present again and he looked at you with a frown, melted ice dripping from his hand onto the floor.

“Hey you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “You okay?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, looking down at what was left of the ice cubes in his hand, noticing the citrus flavour on his tongue and the photograph of his mother on the coffee table.

“Wh-what happened?” He croaked as if he’d just woken up.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me.” You quickly got up and went to the kitchen for some napkins.

You hurried back and scooped the last of the ice from his palm before giving him the napkins to dry himself off.

“I…I have no idea.” He shook his head.

He was lying. He knew exactly what had happened. Grant had met Luke and the two had clearly hit it off and now Grant was moving to DC to be with him. His Luke.

No, that wasn’t fair. Luke wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. It wasn’t beneficial for Spencer to think that way. He had moved on, he had you, Luke was in his past.

Spencer had never had any intention of him and Luke being together again after he moved to Bandera, that relationship never would have worked again. But it didn’t mean he stopped loving Luke, stopped caring about him. And it made his heart ache to think of him with someone else. Now he knew exactly how Luke felt.

“So, you’ve moved on, huh?”

“It’s been two years, what did you expect?”

“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot. So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?”

———

“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?”

“She seemed to be doing a fine job.”

“Goddamnit, would you let that go?”

“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!”

Luke had to walk in on the two of you in bed, seeing first hand that Spencer had moved on. The mere thought of Luke with Grant was enough to cause him to slip into a dissociation, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Luke to witness that.

“You don’t remember?” You gave him a look of scepticism and Spencer shook his head.

How could he tell you what had sent him over the edge? There was no way he could admit that this had happened because he found out Luke had moved on. Spencer loved you, he loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone. But selfishly he thought Luke would always be there. God that made him sound terrible.

“No,” Spencer pushed himself to his feet, balling the napkin up in his hand and traipsing to the trash can.

“I don’t believe you.” You stood too, folding your arms over your chest. “You’re lying to me.”

Spencer sucked in a breath and slowly turned back to look at you, clenching his jaw tightly.

“Yes I am,” he nodded. “But only because I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Protect me from what?”

“If I tell you why I dissociated you will no doubt get upset and I have upset you way too many times before.” He heaved a sigh.

“Tell me.” You insisted. “Tell me right now.”

Spencer rolled his eyes a little, leaning back against the kitchen counter and glancing out of the window at the land beyond.

“I went to speak to Grant about buying the ranch and it turns out he’s also leaving town. He’s moving to DC because he met someone…” Spencer trailed off, keeping his eyes out of the window.

In his peripheral vision he saw you frowning, filling in the blanks to the sentence he didn’t want to finish and honestly it wasn’t all that hard.

“Luke?” You croaked.

“Yeah. Grant is moving to DC to be with my ex boyfriend.”

“And that caused you to dissociate.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you still have feelings for Luke.”

“Yes.” He huffed, turning his head to face you. “Of course I do. But I don’t want to be with him, okay? I want you and only you. But it surprised me and it upset me and I would understand if you were annoyed by my reaction.”

“Spence,” you exhaled, taking a few steps closer to him. “I’m not annoyed. He was a big part of your life, I understand that it would throw you through some kind of loop to find this out.”

“I really wish I didn’t love you so much.” His words surprised you as he raked his fingers over his ever growing facial hair.

“Why?” You frowned lightly.

“Because you’re too good for me.” He shrugged meekly. “Everything I’ve put you through, it’s too much. I’m a fucking wreak. Last night after we…fuck Y/N it was so amazing but when you were asleep I just…I felt numb. I should have felt something, you know? But I felt fucking numb because no matter how much I keep trying to convince myself otherwise, I’m not whole.”

Tears started down his cheeks and you came closer, placing your hands on the sides of his face and holding his gaze.

“I’m too good for you? Spencer, I murdered my step father.” You gently reminded him. “And so what if you aren’t whole? Who says you need to be?”

“I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done.” He cupped the back of your neck in his good hand. “And I want to be whole, I want to give you every little piece of myself but I can’t because I lost a big part of who I am in prison.”

You cooed him, brushing his tears with your fingertips and trying to calm him down.

“As long as you can love me with every piece you have left, I’m okay with that.” You smiled before he was tugging you close for a kiss.

He could undoubtedly give you that, every shred that still belonged to him was yours. And he’d never loved you more than he did in that moment.

You were startled apart by the sound of a phone ringing. Spencer turned back to the counter where his device sat and saw the name flashing on the screen. You peered over his shoulder and saw it too.

His body went rigid and he sucked in a deep breath. His hand reached out for the phone and you saw it was trembling.

“You don’t have to answer it.” You whispered but Spencer was shaking his head.

“I need to.” He picked up the phone. “I need this to finally be over.”

Spencer took the phone and without looking at you, turned to the door and quickly left the lodge. You observed him through the window as he put the phone to his ear and continued walking in the direction of the stable.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and rolled your lip between your teeth. You just had to hope he was strong enough to handle this.

***

Spencer headed down the steps of his lodge and once his feet hit the dirt at the bottom, he answered the call. He huffed out a breath before he spoke.

“What?” He grumbled. He was met by silence for a moment or two so with a sigh he spoke again. “Hello? What do you want?”

Another short burst of silence and Spencer was grinding his teeth as he trailed up the path towards the stables.

“I, uh…” the voice croaked. “Sorry I didn’t expect you to answer.”

“Well I did. So what do you want? No, let me guess. Grant called you?” Spencer wished he could keep the bitterness from his voice but it was impossible.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”

“Sorry I found out that way or that I found out at all?” Spencer spat, unable to calm himself.

“You don’t get to be angry, Spencer.” Luke’s voice remained calm, but was laced with his frustrations.

“I get to be however the hell I want to be.” Spencer bit back.

“I found you in bed with a woman Spencer, if you’re allowed to move on so am I.” Luke growled slightly.

Spencer reached the stable and cradled the phone between his shoulder and face while he unlatched the door with his non-splinted hand.

“I don’t care about you moving on.” Spencer scoffed. “But you could have done that with literally anyone! Why did it have to be someone I know? Someone where I live?”

“Sounds like you don’t plan to live there much longer anyway. Grant said you were trying to sell him your ranch?” Luke spoke and then Spencer heard him thanking someone under his breath.

He must be at work. Judging by the sound of him then sipping something Spencer assumed someone had just given him a mug of coffee.

“That’s why I answered your call.” Spencer walked across the stable, ignoring his horses and sitting down on the wooden crate against the far wall. “I am leaving Bandera and I wanted to tell you to stop calling me. I need a real fresh start, one where you guys can’t keep hassling me.”

“Hassling?” Luke spat. “You’re mistaking us caring for hassling?”

“Luke you guys smother me!” Spencer raised his voice, almost immediately back on his feet. “For my entire FBI career I have been the youngest on the team which means I’m babied and coddled and I’m sick of it. I am a forty year old man! I don’t need you or anyone else to worry over me like I’m a still a kid.”

“After what you’ve been through, Spencer, how can we not worry about you? It’s nothing to do with age, or you being younger than everyone else. You spent three months in prison being abused before having to face off against your rival who tried to kill your mom. Then less than a year later you were taken hostage by Ben’s Believers, you almost died.

“And then you made the decision to runaway without telling anyone, except Prentiss but I’m sure you only told her because you had to. How the hell can we not worry about you? Half of the team expected you to relapse, you know? Hell, I thought you might relapse. How the fuck can we not worry about you when you’re out there in the middle of nowhere on your own!”

Spencer had started to pace while Luke ranted down the phone, back and forth through the stable and ignoring the attention seeking huffs from the horses.

“Well I’m not on my own anymore. And I’m leaving Bandera and I’m not telling any of you where I’m going. I picked up the phone to tell you this is the end. I will be blocking your numbers, fuck I might even just destroy my goddamn phone again so there is no way of Garcia tracking me down. It’s over Luke, I don’t want anything to do with any of you anymore.” Spencer spat harshly, unable to stop his rampant pacing.

“I’d argue with you but to be perfectly honest I’m sick of this. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time, I’m sick of feeling dejected every time you ignore my calls. I am sick of the fucking Spencer Reid show!” Luke yelled.

If he was at Quantico Spencer imagined it would have garnered a lot of attention.

“The Spencer Reid show? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spencer grumbled.

“Our entire relationship was about you. You and your goddamn trauma, even before prison! You and your daddy issues or mommy issues and your adabonment issues and your sobriety and whatever the hell else you were dealing with. My PTSD didn’t matter. I had to suppress my own trauma, trauma from serving overseas to protect the fragility of your psyche.” Luke was really shouting now and Spencer could only imagine the eyes of the team were all on him.

The rage was pooling in Spencer’s stomach, rapidly clawing its way through his body. He turned to see Rusty staring at him but it wasn’t the same wary way she usually regarded him. Her eyes were wide but docile.

Tentatively he stepped closer to her, once again cradling the phone in the crook of his neck so he could raise his hand in her direction. He moved slowly, cautiously, so as not to frighten her. But she didn’t move.

He laid his palm against the side of her face and she nuzzled into his touch. Spencer felt a little sceptical by her sudden fondness for him when she’d previously shown him nothing but disdain.

He dared entwine his fingers with the coarse hair of her mane, trying to ground himself with the texture whilst staring into her large brown eyes. She made a small noise of contentment.

“If I was such a fucking problem for you then it shouldn’t be hard to hear that I never want to speak to you again.” He fought to keep his voice levelled and under control.

Luke was breathing heavily down the phone, clearly trying to rein himself in like Spencer was.

“You…” he huffed. “You fucking broke me, Spencer. The way you left, it destroyed me. Nothing in my life has ever hurt as much as having to hear from Prentiss that you’d left without a word. I’ve spent the last two years trying to get over you, trying to move past the pain that you caused. And I have finally met someone who made me forget all about you. I’m not asking you to be happy for me, but you don’t get to be mad either.”

Spencer kept his focus on Rusty, weaving his fingers deep into her golden mane and staring unblinking in her eyes. He swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. This was so strange.

“Have a nice life, Luke.” He breathed out. “Tell the others I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to forge my own path and the only way I can do that is by cutting old ties. I’m sorry.”

“You owe them more than that.” Luke was quick to speak, feeling as though Spencer was imminently going to hang up. “At least tell them yourself. We’re all here at the BAU, let me put you on speaker?”

Spencer clenched his jaw, holding tighter to Rusty as he felt his knees buckling. He knew Luke was right, he did owe them more than him vanishing again. It didn’t mean the thought of talking to them all didn’t make him feel nauseous.

“Fine,” he croaked out before he changed his mind. “Hurry up though.”

He heard shuffling and some barely perceptible whispers. A chair scraping across the floor, footsteps and a door opening and closing.

He knew Luke’s hand was over the microphone when he spoke again as his voice was muffled but he just managed to hear what he said.

“Guys, I’ve got Reid. He wants to talk to us all.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, that wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t going to argue it. A little more shuffling as he assumed Luke put the phone on a table and then Luke’s voice was louder.

“Go ahead Spencer, we’re all here.” Luke remained on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rossi and Emily were standing by a layout board going over the information in the Sicarius case while Tara, JJ and Penelope were at the table, the latter hovered over her laptop and the other two looking over files.

Spencer was silent. He could all but picture his old team gathered in the round table room and he felt the nerves swarm his body.

He moved his hand from Rusty’s mane to the side of her face, brushing his fingers along the silky texture of her coat. Again she didn’t seem to have any qualms about him doing so.

“Uh, hi everyone.” He spoke quietly.

At the BAU, Penelope Garcia’s hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp at hearing her boy wonders voice for the first time in what had to be months at this point.

Tears flooded to JJ’s eyes, obscuring her vision as she gnawed on her lip. Tara, Rossi and Emily managed to keep their composures.

“Kid, it’s good to hear your voice.” Rossi was the one to speak.

“Hi Dave, good to hear yours too.” Spencer’s voice cracked.

“Is everything okay junior G?” Garcia couldn’t stop herself speaking.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I, uh…I told Luke that I’m leaving Bandera. I need to get away from everything for real this time. And I’m afraid that includes all of you.”

More silence swelled in the room as the six agents exchanged looks of concern and upset.

“What do you mean?” JJ’s voice gave way to her sorrow.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to fully heal while I still have one foot in DC. I love you all very much but you all remind of me the worst things that have ever happened to me. I need a clean break. Last time I left without saying goodbye and Luke reminded me that I owe you more than that. So, uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed, feeling strangely emotional.

Until now he’d only let himself think of how in running away with you he would miss his ranch and the life he’d created in Texas. He hasn’t let himself dwell on the idea that it also meant cutting ties with his old team entirely.

He heard a little more shuffling, key tapping and then the device cradled against his face beeped in his ear. With a frown he removed his hand from Rusty and pulled the device into his eyeline.

Incoming FaceTime call.

He grit his teeth. Apart from Luke he hadn’t see any of their faces in two years.

“Turn your camera on, Reid.” Emily’s voice came through the speaker, commanding him like he still worked for her. “At least let us say goodbye to you face to face.”

Spencer huffed, moving to sit back on the wooden crate. His finger hovered over the button for a moment or two before he accepted it.

This was going to be tough. It was hard enough lying to them at the best of times let alone face to face. As much as he was being honest when he said he was fed up of their babying, their worry it wasn’t the full story.

He had to cut contact with them in order to keep you safe. He was choosing you over his friends. He just had to keep his expression in check so they didn’t see through to his hidden agenda.

The screen was blank for a few moments and then suddenly it was as though he was back in the BAU round table room. He could tell from the angle that Garcia had mirrored Luke’s phone screen and his image was being displayed on the large TV.

Apart from Luke, none of them were prepared to see Doctor Spencer Reid sporting scruffy facial hair, with curls down to his shoulders and longer than any of them had seen in years or wearing a denim shirt over a plain white tee. But to their credits, they hid their surprise well, including Garcia.

Spencer almost waved at them before he remembered that would mean them seeing his splinted arm. Luke could have told them already but he didn’t want to worry them any more than they already were.

Garcia and JJ at the table both had tears in their eyes and Tara was sitting in the middle of them had her hands laced together in front of her. Emily and Rossi were nearest the camera and Luke was off to the side with his arms folded.

“Wow this is weird.” His brows pinched together. “I feel like I’m in the room.”

“Are you eating?” Garcia suddenly spoke up. “You look skinnier than I remember and that’s saying something because you were always so tiny.”

“I’m eating.” Spencer nodded.

“Clearly not enough.” Penelope huffed.

“Garcia,” Emily shot her a look to silence her and the bubbly blonde shrunk a little in her chair. “You look good Reid, rugged even.”

The small quip of her lip made Spencer chuckle.

“About time.” He joked but there was still the underlying melancholy in his voice. “I really am sorry to be doing this but I just need some time. I appreciate that you all care about me, but I’m fine I swear.”

“Does this have something to do with the girl? Because it seems like odd timing.” Luke grunted as he spoke.

Spencer felt his cheeks redden but only Rossi and Tara seemed confused by what he’d said. Spencer didn’t know that Luke had already filled Emily, JJ and Garcia in on how he’d found Spencer indisposed when he’d visited.

“Girl?” Tara cocked her eyebrow at the screen.

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer pulled a face. “I guess I met someone. Thanks for telling everyone, Luke.”

“So she’s the reason you’re leaving? Why you’re cutting us all out of your life?” Luke narrowed his eyes.

“No, of course not.” Spencer shook his head. “I just need to do this.”

“Is she going with you?” Luke frowned, his jaw set.

“That’s none of your business.” Spencer spat. “Why don’t you focus yourself on your own personal life rather than sticking your nose in mine.”

“Spence,” Emily spoke in her calming manner. “Is this still about what happened to you in prison?”

Spencer’s face fell and thanks to a combination of his new phone's excellent camera and the quality of pixels on the BAU screen, they all saw it.

“Prison? With your friend Delgado?” Garcia pouted.

“Spence, we know that was hard for you.” JJ added.

“That’s not what she’s talking about.” Luke spoke up, his slightly pointed tone obvious to everyone.

“What is she talking about?” Rossi frowned looking between his Unit Chief, Luke and Spencer on the screen. “Prentiss? Alvez? What do you know that we don’t?”

“Don’t you dare.” Spencer spat. “Don’t you fucking dare tell them!”

“They have a right to know why you’re being like this.” Luke growled.

“Alvez,” Emily scolded him. “It’s not your place. And it’s not mine either.”

The other members of the BAU gave each other curious looks while Spencer tried hard to control his anger. He couldn’t believe Emily would have the nerve to bring it up. She threw it out there like a grenade but refused to pull the pin, expecting him to be the one to do it.

“What happened in prison?” It was JJ who asked, of course it was. “What don’t you want us to know?”

“It’s nothing.” Spencer hissed. “Goddamnit Emily, did you really have to say that?”

“Don’t hiss at me like that.” Emily shook her head at him angrily.

“You aren’t my boss, I can talk to you however I like.” Spencer growled. “You had no right to bring that up in front of everyone.”

“I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.” She shrugged.

“You had no right to mention it.” He repeated. “What happened to me is nobody's business but my own. So stay the fuck out of it.”

“Spencer!” Garcia gasped. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not the same person I was.” He grunted. “Look I didn’t want this, I don’t want to fight. I just need to say goodbye.”

Silence flooded over them all again, the impending end was heavy in the air. None wanted to speak, none wanted to bring this to its closure. So Spencer spoke again.

“You’ve all been such a huge part of my life and I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” He wasn’t entirely sure he meant to look at Luke but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “You meant the whole world to me, I wouldn’t change a single second of what we had. But I have to move on, I have to heal. I’m sorry this has to be the end but it’s the only way.”

If anyone else noticed Spencer was talking solely to Luke, no one mentioned as much. But Luke knew, and he gave a soft nod as his vision blurred with tears.

“We, uh, we love you too man.” Luke replied. “You’ll always be a big part of my heart - our hearts I mean.”

The others sent their kind words Spencer’s way but he was still staring at Luke and Luke at him, eventually they fell quiet and Spencer forced his eyes off of his ex.

“Uh, bye then I guess.” Spencer shrugged.

“Bye kid, stay safe out there.” Rossi nodded at him.

“Bye Reid,” Tara smiled sadly.

“Oh I hate goodbyes!” Penelope was crying now. “Love you boy wonder, goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Spence.” JJ wiped her own eyes.

“We’ll always be here if you ever change your mind.” Emily added.

When he looked back at the space Luke had previously been occupying, it was empty. Luke was gone.

Spencer swallowed, trying to hide his upset at the fact Luke had fled in such a way before he’d technically gotten to say goodbye to him.

Before he could show how much it hurt he ended the call and sighed heavily. Before he got back up he went through their numbers one by one and blocked them before deleting their numbers. But just as he was about to do the same to Luke’s contact information, a text appeared on his screen.

📲 Luke Alvez: I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. I really do wish you all the best but I just can’t let myself believe this is really over. I will always love you, Spencer Reid.

Spencer felt his chest tighten as he read over the words a few times. And then he blocked Luke’s number, forgetting to delete it like the others. Perhaps it had been subconscious, or perhaps he’d deliberately kept it, he wasn’t sure.

Either way he had removed them from his life so he could take this step forward without putting you in danger.

***

Two days later Spencer’s ranch was up for sale with a local realtor but the two of you didn’t have the luxury in sticking around and waiting for it to sell.

He’d managed to get another nearby rancher to take on his cattle and, somewhat reluctantly on his part, Wilbur and Franklin too. Although he didn’t have as strong of a connection with them as he did with Willow, he was going to miss his two stallions a great deal.

Spencer had purchased a horse trailer which could be hooked up to the back of your car for Rusty and Willow and the rest of the backseat and trunk were filled with Spencer’s belongings, which were mostly books.

He sat in the passenger seat while you arranged the last few things on the backseat and checked the trailer was secure, assuring Willow and Rusty with pats on their heads that they were okay.

He stared out at his lodge, the one he’d called home for two years and the For Sale sign stuck in the dirt. He was growing wistful at an alarming rate, feeling his vision blurring with unshed tears.

He’d never made a home here quite like he had in DC but for some reason this was harder to leave behind. He’d loved his apartment in the city, lived there for most of his adult life, but he’d given it up without a second thought.

Perhaps because here on his ranch in Bandera it was the life he’d chosen. DC and the FBI had been thrust upon him by Jason Gideon, not that he minded that and he was grateful for Gideon’s persistence to have him on the team. But it never really left Spencer any room to choose his own path.

With his intelligence he could have done just about anything, he’d thought he might have long ago cured schizophrenia. But Gideon had pursued him, claiming the young genius as his own prized pig for the BAU to show off. Moving to Texas was probably the first thing he’d done for himself his entire life.

Sure, he still wasn’t making any medical breakthroughs or using his brain to help the world. But this life was so simple, something he’d sorely needed after years of chasing criminals. But now instead of chasing them, he was going on the run with one.

Really if he stopped to think about it, it was insane. He’d spent fifteen years protecting and serving, bringing people like you to justice. He should just turn you in, then he could keep his ranch and not have to cut his friends out of his life.

But you had opened up Spencer’s eyes. In meeting you, Spencer finally understood why he’d never made things work with anyone else. Life just made so much sense to him now.

Relationships of any kind for him had always been about compromising pieces of himself. With Ethan he’d become subservient, as was par for the course for a first relationship he was a moldable putty in Ethan’s hands. He said and did what he thought the other man wanted whether or not Spencer himself wanted it too.

With Lila and Ivy the woman he’d had a one night stand with after Maeve’s death and Caleb with whom he’d had a six month booty call with, he’d conceded parts of himself for the sake of casual sex. He’d lessened his own values for the sake of other people. And with Maeve herself he often dumbed himself down to allow her to feel superior.

And then there was Luke, who Spencer didn’t realise until it was over just how compromised he’d let himself become. Luke was traumatised from serving overseas, needed something to focus his mind on to quell his own darkness. Spencer permitted himself to fall into the role of beta, not that it was a hard persona to emulate.

He was for the most part a submissive person, but mostly in part because he’d always been pushed into that mantle. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have a little control in his own life, in his own decision making but with Luke that was taken away.

He didn’t mind, for the most part. But now he looked back on it there were times where he’d wished he’d been able to make even the simplest choice of what they were having for dinner or what movie to watch.

He didn’t need to be an alpha and honestly he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with that kind of dominance. But Luke coddled him as though he wasn’t able to make his own decisions, handled him with kid gloves as though Spencer was one moment away from breaking at all times.

And that was even before prison.

Even with his friends, his team, Spencer compromised himself for their own happiness and well-being. He slotted into roles that needed filling in their lives rather than forging his own. He was what people needed him to be. He was malleable. He was a hunk of clay just waiting to be sculpted by those around him.

But then he met you and he finally understood what it was like to not have to bend to the will of others, to shape himself around the demands of others.

In moving to Texas and being alone for so long he was able to start forming himself away from the ordinance of the people around him. He started to discover exactly who Spencer Reid was in his most authentic incarnation.

Upon meeting you he did not bend, he did not falter. And he found that someone actually loved him for who he was when he was just himself and not trying to appease or alter himself to be deemed fit.

So he would miss his ranch, no doubt. He would miss his friends despite the fact they barely talked anymore. But the decision to leave with you was an unimaginably easy one. You didn’t love him for the person he could be, you loved him the raw version of him, the real, uncensored Spencer Reid.

The driver’s door opened and you slid in with a smile, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette between your lips. You turned to him as you started the engine reaching across the centre console and giving his hand a squeeze.

“You ready for this, stud?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not too late to change your mind.”

He waited until you took a drag, exhaling the smoke out of the window before he gripped the back of your head and drew you close for a kiss.

“Y/N,” he spoke once he pulled back, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. I know things haven’t always gone smoothly for us, I guess we’re both just a little…rusty.” He chuckled and you did too. “But practice makes perfect, right? And I’m fairly certain we’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled brightly at him, taking another drag on the cigarette before putting the car in reverse. Spencer took one last look at the place he’d called home for two years, wistful but excited for what the future held.

You dangled your arm out of the window and with a wink sent his way you spoke in mirth, “Well then cowboy, we better giddy up.”

@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months ago

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | four

🐴Chapter summary: You’re back in the city, but it doesn’t really feel like home— nowhere has felt like home since you were a child. When Jimin suddenly shows up unexpectedly at your apartment, you’re left wondering the depth of his feelings. 🐴Chapter title: It Comes to This 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mentions of not eating because of sadness, mention of past infidelity (parents), mention of past character death (parents). It’s fluff season y’all! 😍 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 7.5k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Locked Inside My Heart” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: okay so this is a short chapter, but it’s mainly oc and Jimin and it’s mainly talking, like backstory and feelings– it’s fluffy! But damn I loved writing this chapter. You’re in for a ride!!!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“I don't pretend the choice is easy I can't pretend I really know I don't believe that you can have it both ways Do you stay or do you go?” - ‘It comes to this’ by Rebecca Lavelle.

Several weeks have elapsed since your departure from the ranch, affording you the time and distance to gain some perspective. Though readjusting to city life is easy, a persistent ache in your heart testifies to the yearning for the open fields, the friendship of the girls, and even the complicated bond with your sister that you left behind.

However, you find solace in immersing yourself in your work, channeling your emotions onto the canvas with each stroke. As you complete yet another painting, a genuine smile graces your lips, proud of the creation that has sprung from the depths of your heart.

Yet, when your gaze shifts to the collection of paintings surrounding it, each depicting the rustic charm of a ranch, horses, and idyllic countryside scenes, a chuckle escapes you.

The truth is undeniable – the ranch is a constant muse, an ever-present thought that refuses to release its hold on your mind.

From the days of childhood at the ranch, where painting was a shared joy with your sister, to the present hustle of city life, your artistic passion has seamlessly evolved. Initially, it was a cherished hobby, but as the city years unfolded, it transformed into a profession. While you may not boast fame, your paintings enjoy a steady demand, affording you a comfortable life in the bustling heart of the city.

The soft vibration of your phone interrupts the creative dance of your brush against the canvas. Another painting takes shape – a girl riding her horse, an embodiment of carefree spirit with wind-kissed hair.

A sigh escapes you; these motifs only deepen the yearning for the ranch. Retrieving your phone, a message from a friend awaits, a lifeline momentarily pulling you from the realm of memories and strokes.

Minji [13.34]: GIRL, get your ass down to the cafe I miss your ass 😏

A burst of laughter escapes you at Minji's characteristically whimsical message. Swiftly, you respond, your fingertips adorned with dried paint, dancing effortlessly across the screen, assuring her that you'll join her in a heartbeat.

After rinsing your pencils and setting them out to dry, you meticulously cleanse the remnants of paint from your hands. Swiftly grabbing your handbag, you step out of your apartment, ready to face the world beyond your creative sanctuary.

In just a few steps, you find yourself at the familiar cafe where you meet Minji. Her radiant face stands out, seated outside, waving at you with infectious enthusiasm. Her ever-changing fiery red hair, a testament to her vibrant personality, frames her face elegantly. Today, she opts for glasses – bold, cat-eyed frames that add a touch of sophistication to her usual look. A departure from her usual contacts, she's adorned in a striking green sundress, perfectly complementing the vivid hue of her hair.

As you reciprocate Minji's enthusiastic wave, settling into your seat, she promptly slides a refreshing glass of iced coffee across the table to you.

“Oh, thanks.”

“No problem. Is it good to be back in the city?” Minji inquires, her bright smile accentuated by the sun's playful dance on her face, a subtle gesture accompanying her sip of iced coffee.

You respond with a nonchalant shrug, “It's fine, I guess,” the uncertainty lingering in your voice, a subtle reflection of the mixed emotions swirling within you.

Her smile falters slightly, and she leans in, eyes searching yours, “You miss it, don't you?”

The question hangs in the air, laden with understanding and curiosity.

You nod in acknowledgment, sinking into your seat as your fingers trace the rim of the glass. A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, “I do... more than I thought I would.”

Her chuckle fills the air, and she offers you a soft, reassuring smile. “Maybe it's time to go back?” she suggests, her eyes holding a glint of encouragement.

You ponder her question for a moment, though you've wrestled with this very dilemma countless times. “I don't think I can,” you admit, the words carrying the weight of your internal struggle.

Leaning in, she bridges the gap between you two, her eyes searching yours, “Why?”

You release another heavy sigh, frustration echoing in the air as you lift the glass of ice coffee to your lips. “First, my sister hates me; she made it clear she doesn't want to see me again,” you confess, the memory of your strained departure from Jessi lingering. “Second, I believe I royally messed up by sleeping with the wrong brother.”

Minji's eyes widened in shock, her curiosity instantly piqued. “You never mentioned this! Spill the details!”

You release another exasperated sigh. “Yeah, well, I met Jungkook at the party, and he's ridiculously good-looking, you know?” Minji nods knowingly, urging you to continue. “So, I ended up sleeping with him at the party, and later I discover that Jimin is his brother.”

Minji's eyes widen once more, and her mouth drops in shock at your revelation. “Jimin? The same Jimin you had a crush on when you were a kid?!”

“Yes, that Jimin,” you groan, taking a longer sip of your ice coffee. The cold liquid provides a welcome contrast against the warmth of the sun caressing your skin.

“Do you see my dilemma now?” you sigh dramatically, a huff punctuating your frustration.

“Not really,” she chuckles loudly, her laughter echoing with contagious joy. You gaze at her, curious about the cryptic message in her amusement.

“You fucked him once right? It's not like you were in a committed relationship or anything, and people make mistakes,” you look at her, waiting for her to finish her thought. “I don't see it as a problem. You didn't know they were brothers; it's not like you intentionally sought out his brother. I think you're overthinking it. Sometimes life just throws these curveballs at us.” She shrugs her shoulders with a reassuring smile, trying to convey that she doesn't see this situation as problematic, unlike how you perceive it.

“Do you have any idea if Jimin has a thing for you?” She inquires with a mischievous smirk, playfully emphasizing her question with a sly raise of her eyebrow.

“I'm not sure, but according to Jungkook, he does. Jimin's been giving me these intense stares, and it's starting to feel like he's been studying me,” you confide in her. It's a relief to finally share the thoughts that have been swirling in your head over the past few weeks.

“Girl, you should totally jump his dick!” Minji exclaims, her voice escalating in excitement, drawing glances from other tables. A blush creeps up on your cheeks as she practically shrieks the suggestion, and you quickly hush her, “Aish, keep it down.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “You don't have to alert the whole neighborhood, you know.”

“Ah, sorry. I got overexcited. But it sounds like Jimin likes you,” she teases, giving you a smirk. “If he does, I don't think he sees it as a problem that you had sex with his brother once.”

“Half brother,” you add, and her eyes practically sparkle with intrigue at this new piece of information.

“I say go for it,” she leans back into her chair, sipping on her iced coffee proudly. “Also, I think you should go back and mend things with your sister.”

You groan at the thought, envisioning a scenario that seems destined for disaster. Shaking your head, you can't fathom how it would unfold positively.

“Bitch, take a good look at your paintings lately. Every piece you've shared in our chat revolves around ranches or horses. If that's not your heart screaming out what you truly desire, you must be blind.” She laughs as you furrow your brow, but in your heart, you acknowledge the undeniable truth in her words.

For weeks, your heart has been instinctively immortalizing the place you've desperately yearned for and at the same time desperately tried to erase from your thoughts. Each stroke of paint on canvas was a poignant reminder of the struggle to suppress those nostalgic pangs.

For the remainder of your coffee date with Minji, you delve into the intricacies of her life, relishing the distraction it provides. It's a welcome reprieve to immerse yourself in someone else's narrative, if only momentarily, allowing you to temporarily set aside the weight of your own troubles.

As the coffee date concludes, you bid Minji farewell with a heartfelt hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. The warmth of her gesture lingers, accompanying you on the walk back to your apartment, a comforting echo in the quiet corridors of your thoughts.

Returning to your apartment, you scavenge the fridge for any remnants of a meal, opting for a quick reheat in the microwave. The familiar routine finds you on the couch, mindlessly consuming your food while the television blares, its content serving as mere background noise to the symphony of your contemplations.

In the last few weeks, nourishment has been an elusive companion, and the reason echoes within the recesses of your consciousness. Since bidding farewell to the ranch, your attempts at a hearty meal have been feeble at best. Despite your earnest endeavors, the appetite that once danced with enthusiasm seems to have deserted you entirely.

As you sigh, the rhythm of your fork against the plate harmonizes with the contemplation swirling in your mind.

Two diverging paths lay before you, each demanding consideration - to stay or to go?

Simultaneously, the looming question of the inheritance casts its shadow, forcing you to grapple with the decision to sell or keep it?

As uncertainty clouds your thoughts, a myriad of possibilities unfold before you. Returning to the ranch might mean facing your sister's wrath once more, while selling your share could sever ties irreversibly.

Yet, holding onto your stake without a return holds the promise of avoiding immediate consequences.

Startled by an unexpected knock on your door, you briefly contemplate ignoring it. However, the persistent tapping forces you off the couch, curiosity and caution intertwining as you approach to unravel the mystery at your doorstep.

Swinging the door open, your astonishment peaks as you come face to face with none other than Jimin, a soft and warm smile gracing his features.

His unexpected presence leaves you momentarily speechless, your mouth falling open as you drink in the sight of him. Clad in a loose-fitted shirt, denim pants, and those boots that never fail to catch your eye, he exudes an effortless charm. His tousled hair adds to the allure, making him nothing short of breathtakingly handsome.

A sense of amazement causes your eyes to flutter, leaving you standing there like a floundering fish caught off guard. His chuckle breaks the moment, and you realize you haven't even managed to say a simple ‘hi’.

“Jimin?” You inquire, quickly scanning your surroundings to ensure there's no one else lurking behind, ready to spring a surprise on you.

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Hey,” he greets with a hint of shyness.

“Come in,” you invite, your voice carrying a mix of curiosity and anticipation. As he enters, his eyes wander around the compact hallway, absorbing the essence of your two-bedroom sanctuary. It might not be a sprawling space, but it's a reflection of you – a place where every corner holds a piece of your story.

He chuckles nervously, a melody that dances through the room as he slips off his shoes. The familiar sight of them, adorned with the remnants of mud, speaks of untold adventures and stories etched in every speck of dirt.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” you inquire, fixing him with eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation, silently urging him to reveal the purpose behind his unexpected visit.

“I came here because there's something I wanted to talk to you about,” he begins, strolling deeper into your apartment. As he glances around, you can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness, as if he's peering into your soul, carefully examining every painting, lamp, and piece of decor that surrounds you.

“Do you paint?” he inquires, his gaze drawn to the easel tucked in the corner of your living room, surrounded by a towering collection of finished paintings. Intrigued, he moves closer to your creative space. His eyes sweep over the current painting on the easel – the one capturing a girl on her horse, wind tousling her hair – and then shift to the array of your ‘country’ collection resting against the walls.

“These are stunning. I had no idea you were an artist,” he remarks, his eyes lingering on the paintings, and he turns to you with a wide, appreciative smile.

“Thank you,” you reply, a touch of embarrassment coloring your cheeks, as compliments have always had a way of making you a bit bashful.

“I really hope these paintings find their way into the world, they're exceptional!” he exclaims, his eyes drawn to the one capturing a ranch perched on a hill, surveying a paddock filled with graceful horses.

“Actually, it's my livelihood, so yeah,” you respond with a soft smile, a mix of embarrassment from his praise and a sense of pride for your craft.

“That's incredible,” he remarks, shifting his body towards you, his gaze traveling from your head to your toes.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” His gaze feels like a gentle but persistent probing, causing you to fidget nervously with the hem of your sundress.

“Sure, let's go to a cafe and have that talk,” he suggests, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes.

“Absolutely, there's this adorable cafe nearby with the most delightful desserts. What do you think?” you suggest, a smile playing on your lips. Despite your efforts to downplay it, the word 'date' echoes in your mind, and your heart betrays your intentions, quickening its pace at the mere thought.

“Lead the way,” he nods, accompanying the words with a casual stroll back to the hallway.

Silently, you both slip into your shoes, you secure your purse, and step out of your apartment, descending the stairs to the lively streets below. As you navigate the urban buzz, your mind races at a million miles per hour, anticipation building as you wonder about the conversation he's eager to share.

The dessert cafe you're aiming for is a bit of a trek compared to the one you frequented with Minji. The silence between you and Jimin persists, almost becoming stifling as your curiosity intensifies. You can't help but wonder, could something significant have occurred involving Jessi?

The café looms into view, and a surge of anticipation prompts you to quicken your steps. Anxious to unravel the mystery of Jimin's conversation, you settle into an outdoor seat, basking in the warmth of the sun as you eagerly peruse the menu.

Curiosity dances in your eyes as you look up from the menu, questioning, “What do you want to get?” Your intrigue extends beyond the dessert options, yearning to discover the nuances of Jimin's taste in sweets.

A tender smile graces his lips as he places his order, “Just a chocolate cake and a strawberry bubble tea is fine.” You find his simplicity endearing and decide with a chuckle, “I'll have the same then.”

Making your way to the counter, you confidently order the tempting treats, savoring the anticipation. After settling the bill, you return to your seat, careful not to spill a drop of the deliciousness awaiting you in those cups.

You dismiss his attempt to split the bill with a warm smile, insisting that it's your treat. As you explain, a gentle generosity glows in your eyes, emphasizing your delight in sharing this small but delightful moment with him.

As you raise the fork, poised to indulge in the decadent chocolate cake, your gaze locks onto his enchanting brown eyes. With a flicker of curiosity, you inquire, “So, what's on your mind?”

A nervous chuckle escapes him, and he shields his smile with a hand, his eyes betraying a hint of unease.

“It's about you actually,” he admits, his words hanging in the air with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Your eyes widen, and your parted lips reflect the shock of his revelation. The mere idea that he wants to talk about you sends your heart into a frenzied rhythm. His gaze, soft as clouds, envelops you, and you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the depths of your chest.

Your eyes widen, and you question him with a mixture of surprise and nervousness, “Me?” The fluttering sensation in your stomach intensifies, and your hand hovers over the plate of decadent chocolate cake, dessert forgotten in the wake of unexpected revelation.

He starts, sipping through the straw of his strawberry bubble tea, “We miss you.”

You eye him, the flutters in your stomach intensifying—what does he mean by ‘we’?

“Everybody back home,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with joy, yet a subtle twinge of sadness lurks beneath the surface, like shadows in the sunlight. You find yourself drawn to the complexity of his emotions, wondering what lies behind the façade of happiness.

You exhale, a heavy sigh carrying the weight of memories and emotions. “That place isn't my home anymore,” you confess, shoulders tensed against the flood of sentiments rushing back.

A subtle flinch in his eyes, a pang of hurt in his gaze—it leaves you questioning whether his sadness is somehow tethered to you. But that couldn't be true, could it?

“It could be,” he says, his eyes softening into a small smile, “everybody misses you, even your sister.”

At this, you arch an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief coloring your expression. “That doesn't sound like Jessi,” you laugh, though the sound is forced and choked.

“Well, she does. She feels bad for how she treated you,” he begins, and the tinge of sadness creeps back onto his face.

“Did Jessi send you here?” you question with a watchful and stern eye, not appreciating the unexpected turn in the conversation.

“No! Absolutely not!” he defends vehemently in mere seconds, sounding almost disgusted that you've even entertained the thought.

“I came here for me. Well, mostly for you,” he grins again, a warm and inviting smile that makes his wonderful brown eyes disappear, and you can't help but reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“I want you to reconsider coming back,” he adds, finally poking at his dessert. You look at him cautiously. “When you left the first time, it made me really sad,” he takes a bite of his cake before speaking again, “and when you left this time, it made me really sad again. The ranch isn't the same without you.”

You give him a contemplative smile, truly empathizing with his feelings, but you remain uncertain about returning to the ranch. The internal struggle weighs on your expression, caught between the desire to make him happy and the uncertainty that lingers within you.

“I'm sorry, Jimin. It's just... I'm not sure if returning is what I want,” you express, lifting the fork to your mouth, savoring the delicious cake. The sincerity in your apology mingles with the rich taste of dessert, creating a bittersweet moment.

“I noticed those paintings in your room. Are you sure you don’t want to come back?” he challenges, his gaze intense. An airy laugh escapes you, acknowledging the truth. Logic may dictate one thing, but your heart whispers another, a silent yearning for what once was.

Jimin leans in, a trace of chocolate on his lips captivating your attention, but you resist the urge to interrupt as he continues, “The ranch belongs to you just as much as it does to your sister.”

You nod in acknowledgment, grappling with the weight of truth in his words. The decision about your share of the ranch hangs in the balance, a pivotal choice between holding onto it or following through with your initial plan to sell.

“I know Jessi can be stubborn,” he remarks, and you burst into laughter, the shared recognition of your sister's stubbornness creating a light-hearted moment that echoes with his laughter.

His laughter fades, and he continues, “You can always return and hold onto your share of the ranch. That place is your home.”

You allow his words to linger within you for a moment, your gaze briefly captivated by the small piece of chocolate on his lips. A smile plays on your lips as you lick your finger, reaching out to his face. With a gentle swipe, you remove the tiny morsel of chocolate from his mouth. In that instant, his eyes widen slightly, yet he remains still, observing your every movement with a hawk-like intensity.

He grins warmly, releasing an airy chuckle that dances through the air. You lean back in your chair, savoring the sweet notes of your bubble tea as you both share a moment of easy laughter.

Appreciation colors your voice as you express your gratitude, genuinely thankful for his words and the warmth of his company today. “I'll give it some thought,” you add, leaving the door open to the possibility he's presented.

As the last bites of cake vanish, and the lingering taste of bubble tea fades, Jimin breaks the companionable silence with a suggestion that catches you off guard, “How about some shopping?” The invitation hangs in the air, carrying the promise of a new adventure.

His unexpected proposal catches you off guard, and you almost choke on the lingering taste of your drink. Despite the surprise, you find yourself nodding in agreement, silently marveling at the surreal nature of this man before you.

In the heart of the city, Jimin sweeps you away on an impromptu shopping spree, indulging your every desire to explore the stores. Patiently, he waits as you try on different outfits, offering his honest opinions on each. The experience is surprisingly intimate, radiating a domestic charm that lingers in the air. Though it simmers with the essence of a date, you resist delving too deeply into that notion, attempting to soothe the fluttering butterflies and the electrifying sensation that accompanies each of his glances.

“This is really nice,” Jimin remarks with a soft smile as the two of you stroll down the bustling street. After spending a few delightful hours shopping, you're en route back to your apartment when a captivating dress in a window display captures your attention. Jimin notices your gaze fixated on the black, flowery dress with its gracefully flowing skirt. “Do you want to try it?”

“Ah, but I'm getting tired,” you confess, allowing your body to sag against his, savoring the reassuring firmness of his shoulder. His touch sends sparks coursing through your entire being. You're keenly aware that Jimin must be weary too; his limp has become more pronounced, hinting at potential fatigue or pain from too much walking. Despite your concern, you hesitate to pry, choosing to respect his privacy for now.

“Humor me,” he chuckles, playfully guiding you into the store. Together, you locate the dress effortlessly. Fingers grazing the hangers, you zero in on your size and confidently snatch it.

Making your way to the dressing rooms, you draw the curtains, stepping into the private space. Stripping off your clothes, you prepare to slip into the alluring fabric of the dress.

As the dress drapes over your silhouette, you gaze at your reflection in the dressing room mirror. There's an immediate sense of admiration, an unspoken agreement between you and the dress. You don't need to analyze it; the feeling of confidence envelops you. The heart-shaped neckline accentuates your collarbones, and the dress gracefully reaches your knees, a perfect harmony of style and comfort.

Parting the curtains, you step out, adorned in the black flowery dress, and as Jimin's eyes land on you, his pupils dilate, capturing a moment of speechlessness. A playful chuckle escapes you, and, reveling in the newfound confidence, you gracefully twirl in the dress, the fabric swirling around you like a dance partner.

You wear the dress with an air of effortless elegance, and as Jimin utters his compliment, a warm smile graces his lips, “You look really good in that dress.”

However, when you meet his gaze, you're drawn into the depth of his eyes – dark and possessive, a captivating intensity that sparks a desire to unravel the mysteries concealed within them, as if they hold secrets worth exploring for hours.

Gratitude colors your words, “Thank you. I really like it too,” as your fingers caress the soft fabric of the dress. The tactile sensation adds to the pleasure, leaving you appreciating not just the appearance but the luxurious feel of the material.

“I'll get it for you,” he insists with a warm smile, brushing off your attempts to protest. Despite your insistence that you can purchase it yourself, he remains resolute.

“Consider it a gift,” he adds, turning a simple shopping moment into a gesture of unexpected generosity, leaving you both touched and perplexed by his insistence on making your day a little brighter.

Opting not to pry further, you offer him a soft, sweet smile, your heart fluttering erratically within your chest. “Thank you,” you express with genuine gratitude, appreciating the gesture and the unspoken connection between you two.

Once you've changed back into your familiar attire, Jimin accompanies you to the cashier, graciously settling the bill for the dress. As you both exit the store, a shared secret wrapped in the fabric of the new dress, you stroll back to your apartment in a comfortable silence, the anticipation of unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

You opt for takeout, a ritual of comfort that usually involves lounging on the couch, indulging in a feast of flavors while the TV bathes the room in a soft glow. Surprisingly, Jimin embraces the laid-back ambiance, seamlessly blending into the familiar routine as if he's been a part of it all along.

As the meal unfolds, a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds, the room is graced with a comfortable silence occasionally interrupted by snippets of conversation. After savoring the last bite and clearing away the remnants of your feast, you gravitate back to the inviting embrace of the couch, sinking into its cushions.

Nestled side by side, your arms subtly entwined in a delicate dance of proximity, you both sink into the plush cushions of the couch, the gentle hum of the TV providing a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy shared in the room.

“Hey, considering it's getting late, how about crashing here tonight? I wouldn't want you navigating the midnight roads,” you suggest, extending a warm invitation, while your hands effortlessly choreograph a symphony of comfort by fetching drinks for both of you.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to,” he grins, settling into your couch as if it were a familiar embrace, a subtle warmth filling the room.

“I actually wanted to tell you something else too,” he confesses, the air thick with anticipation as you turn your gaze fully on him, hanging on to every word like a secret waiting to unfold.

“I wanted to tell you about what happened after you left, all those years ago, when your father took you away,” he begins, drawing in a deep breath that elevates his chest, momentarily diverting your gaze to his well-defined pectorals.

“Okay, I'm all ears,” you respond, shifting your body towards his, allowing your knee to lightly brush against his thigh, a subtle shiver coursing down your spine.

“Well, shortly after you left, my mother passed away,” he begins to share, the weight of sorrow evident on his face, his hands involuntarily clenching as he revisits the painful memory.

“I'm truly sorry to hear that,” you express sympathetically, your hand instinctively finding its way to his thigh. Offering a gentle squeeze, a soft, almost inaudible moan escapes from him, revealing the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

“It's alright, it happened a long time ago,” he reassures, his hand covering yours on his thigh, a warm and comforting presence. Returning the sentiment with a smile, you encourage him to continue, sensing the weight of his past experiences.

“Well, we had the whole funeral thing and all that,” he sighs, a hint of deflation and bitterness in his hazel eyes, “but my dad remarried two months after.”

Your mouth falls open, and you gape at him, a strange gasping sound escaping. “Fuck,”" is all you manage to say. The revelation hits you hard, and you can't believe it. “He really remarried two months after your mother died?” Your voice carries a mix of surprise, hurt, and confusion, echoing the shock that reverberates through your thoughts.

“Yep. That's my dad for you,” he jokes and laughs, yet the lingering hurt is evident in his eyes. “The man couldn't be alone, you know. Some people just can't be alone. So he got in touch with one of his ex-girlfriends,” Jimin's eyes soften as he speaks, but a touch of sadness still shadows his gaze.

“And that's how I found out I had a half-brother,” he exhales, sinking back into the couch. You gape at him, utterly surprised by his revelation, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

“So you had no idea about Jungkook at all?” you ask, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. He shakes his head, a silent confirmation of the tangled web of secrets unraveling before you.

“No. My dad never told me. He admitted he knew immediately when he got Jungkook's mother pregnant. He paid her to stay away, and then, when my mother passed away, he promised her anything and everything she desired.” He clenches his hands, attempting to steady his breath. Despite his efforts, you can sense the struggle, prompting you to squeeze his thigh in reassurance, hoping to anchor him to the present moment.

“But Jungkook is younger than you, right?” you question, trying to reconcile the timeline in your head.

“Oh, yeah. My dad cheated on my mother with Jungkook's mother,” he says, running his hand through his hair, a pained expression crossing his face as he seeks solace in the reassuring grip of your hand.

“The whole thing was really hard on me as a kid, and accepting Jungkook as my brother was a struggle. We fought a lot, you know, all the typical sibling stuff,” he chuckles, the sound carrying a sense of relief and maturity, as if the weight of the past has lightened with time. You can sense they've come a long way since their childhood conflicts, now being grown men.

“What about your dad and Jungkook’s mom?” The question slips out, and you realize that neither Jimin nor Jungkook has spoken about their parents, especially considering you haven’t seen them on the ranch at all.

He takes a deep breath before responding, “They both died in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!” you exclaim, berating yourself for asking such a thoughtless question. You don't want to deepen his sorrow any further.

“Oh, it's okay. It happens, people die—that's partly why I just want to live my life to the fullest, you know?” The sadness lingering in his eyes persists, but now you can discern flickers of something more, a burning passion he talks about, the determination to embrace life to its fullest.

Under your hand on his thigh, you can feel his leg shake, and you're left wondering whether it's nervousness or somehow related to his limping. Now that he's shared such personal details, you contemplate whether it's the right moment to broach the subject and inquire about the cause of his limp.

“Jimin, there's something I've been wanting to ask you ever since I returned,” you confess, a twinge of nervousness coursing through you. The question is deeply personal, and you're aware that he might not be comfortable answering. Nonetheless, you're determined to respect whatever choice he makes.

He inches closer, his body melding with yours, the shared warmth creating an intimate cocoon. “What's been occupying your thoughts?” he asks, his voice a gentle invitation.

The words tumble out, a torrent of concern escaping your lips, “Why are you limping?”

The raw honesty hangs in the air, and you wince, wondering if your directness was too much. You cringe internally, hoping your curiosity doesn't come off as intrusive.

The softness in his gaze is accompanied by a profound sadness in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings and making you ache to envelop him in a comforting embrace.

The revelation unfolds like a carefully guarded secret, his voice carrying the weight of past pain and bitterness. “I was in a riding accident as a teenager. The horse crashed down on my right leg, crushing it. I couldn't walk, underwent surgery, and then grueling therapy to reclaim my mobility. But,” he adds with a hint of lingering hurt, “I'll always have this limping gait.” The anguish in his tone resonates, painting a vivid picture of a tumultuous journey.

Emotion wells up within you, threatening to spill over, but you muster the strength to keep it in check. “Does it ache when you walk for extended periods or ride?”

The concern in your voice echoes the silent understanding that you share this moment, grappling with the reality of his persistent pain.

He graces you with a tender smile. “Yes, it does hurt, but I've grown accustomed to the pain,” he admits with a quiet resilience, revealing a depth of strength beneath the surface.

As you smile, a wave of empathy washes over you, a bittersweet blend of happiness for his strength and sorrow for the pain he endures. Deep down, an earnest wish stirs within you — a longing to ease the burden he carries, if only you could find a way.

“Does it hurt right now?” Concern colors your voice as you inch closer, your question laced with genuine worry. Leaning in, you search his eyes, silently hoping to catch a glimpse of the pain he might be hiding behind that soft smile.

His nod carries the weight of unspoken battles, each subtle movement a testament to the persistent ache he endures, “It does.”

Your hand, poised on his thigh, ventures boldly along the contours of his powerful leg. Locking eyes, you witness the subtle shift in his gaze, growing more intense with each upward movement of your hand. As your fingers edge perilously close to his crotch, you pause, your touch transforming into a soothing massage. A question lingers in the air, “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yes,” he breathes, the sound carrying a breathless quality, reminiscent of a soft moan. You decide not to dwell on that, focusing instead on the intent behind your actions. If your touch can alleviate even a fraction of his pain, you're determined to offer him the relief he deserves.

Your hand tightens its grip on his thigh, and you observe the way he nervously bites his lip. As you massage his thigh, your movements tracing a path from his knee to his crotch and back up, you become aware of the building tension in the room. Your hands start to feel clammy, mirroring the quickening pace of Jimin's breath, matching the rhythm of your own. It dawns on you that, in the process, you're unintentionally exploring intimate territories, practically groping him and feeling him up!

Your hands retreat as if recoiling from a burn, a sudden surge of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “I'm sorry,” you utter, the words stumbling out, attempting to cloak the awkwardness that now hangs in the air between you two.

A rush of heat floods your cheeks, a vivid blush that likely extends to your ears. You curse your hands for their wanderings and your horny mind.

“It’s okay,” a reassuring chuckle escapes him, though the aftermath of your touch lingers in his eyes, a subtle impact you can't ignore. The flutters in your stomach take flight once more, swirling in a dance of unspoken tension.

“Would you be up for a movie?” you propose, attempting to redirect the conversation and steer clear of the tantalizing thoughts that have momentarily consumed your mind.

“Sure.” He says with a smile, sinking into the comfort of the couch as you scroll through movies on your phone. With a seamless connection, you stream a quirky rom com from your phone to the TV - a foolproof choice for a laid-back evening.

As the movie unfolds its scenes, Jimin gradually inches closer until your bodies meld together; his warmth envelops you, a comforting shield against the world. Drowsiness creeps in, causing your body to lean against Jimin's solid frame. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, resonating beneath your ear on his firm chest, creates a soothing lullaby. Oblivious to the movie's narrative, you succumb to a cascade of yawns, surrendering to the peaceful pull of sleep.

Wrapped in Jimin’s embrace, he becomes a haven of security and comfort, a living embodiment of home. In his presence, your tense muscles unwind, and your heartbeat harmonizes with his, creating a comforting rhythm. As relaxation unfurls through your being, your head descends, settling into the warmth of his lap. Unbeknownst to you, soft breaths escape your lips as sleep claims you, while Jimin, tenderly stroking your cheek and hair. Little do you know, three words escape his lips, destined to alter the course of your life.

In the morning, you gradually rouse to the sensation of something firm pressing against your face, yet there's an unexpected tenderness, a gentle caress against your skin. Your pillow, typically mundane, now cradles your head in an oddly satisfying manner, prompting you to nuzzle into it, seeking additional solace. A contented murmur escapes your lips in fatigue as you attempt to stretch your limbs, only to discover the subtle ache that permeates your entire body.

Wait.

Your eyes snap open in realization. This isn't the familiar embrace of your bed, and the comforting pillow beneath your head is anything but ordinary. A surge of awareness courses through you as you come to terms with an unexpected reality – you're sprawled across Jimin's thigh.

More precisely, you’re nestled against his groin, where you abruptly discover the undeniable evidence of his morning arousal.

You spring to attention, the warmth of embarrassment coloring your cheeks, heart racing like a runaway train against your ribcage. In the hazy glow of early morning, you fumble for the most sincere apology you can conjure, breathlessly exclaiming, “Oh, goodness! I'm so sorry!”

As you settle onto the couch, your gaze locks with his still sleepy and drowsy eyes. The realization hits that you both must have drifted off in this intimate position, with you cradled in the warmth of his inviting lap.

Jimin's chuckle resonates like a melodious tune in the early morning, a soothing sound that plays a soft serenade to your ears. Despite your efforts to steady your heartbeat and contain the fluttering sensations, his laughter creates a symphony that dances through the awakening air.

“It's okay. I just woke up,” he rises and stretches, a lazy yawn escaping his lips. Why does he have to look this enticing? His blonde locks cascade in unruly curls, framing a face that's both soft and slightly puffy from sleep. Those pink lips, as if kissed by the night, slightly nibbled, beckon dangerous thoughts. As he stretches, biceps tensing and shirt teasingly riding up, a glimpse of his happy trail emerges, a sight your eyes try to resist but fail. Damn it, you scold yourself, but then his armpit becomes visible, and even that seems inexplicably appealing.

Oh, he smells divine—powdery softness, a hint of sweetness, warmth, and richness all mingling to craft an intoxicating musky scent. It envelops you, leaving your entire being tingling with an irresistible allure.

Jimin appears entirely unfazed, but you're left feeling utterly flustered, convinced your cheeks must be ablaze. “I'm so sorry for dozing off on you. I meant to offer you my bed, but I guess I fell asleep before I could say anything,” you chuckle, trying to shake off the lingering traces of sleep from your weary body.

A sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning.

Oh my god. If you’re sore, Jimin must be too! You practically slept on his injured leg!

“I apologize for your leg—I can't believe I slept on it. I might have undone all the massage from yesterday,” you groan in frustration, scolding yourself for your apparent weakness for this man. He's your childhood friend, the one who came and told you that you belong— at the place you once called home, reigniting something dormant within you, a feeling that has slumbered for centuries, now awakening and blossoming slowly.

“It's really okay,” he assures you with a soft squeeze to your leg. His hand feels firm and warm, mirroring his comforting presence. You realize a desire for more, but you tread carefully on dangerous waters, doing your best to keep your more horny thoughts in check.

“I'll have to head back soon,” he says, punctuating his statement with another heartfelt yawn, a languid stretch emphasizing the inevitable departure.

“Do you like pancakes? I could whip up a batch before you head out,” you suggest, caught between the genuine desire to treat him to a hearty breakfast and the subtle hope that it might extend his stay, sparing him the long drive on an empty stomach.

“Absolutely,” he responds, his soft smile revealing a glimpse of those charmingly crooked teeth. As you rise from your seat and head into the kitchen to whip up the pancakes, a subtle urgency whispers in your mind, warning that if you linger too long, keeping your hands to yourself might become an increasingly challenging feat.

With a culinary flair, you whip up the pancakes in record time, the aroma of warm batter filling the air. As you both settle around the small dining table, the atmosphere is filled with the comforting clinks of cutlery against plates. Amidst bites of fluffy pancakes, Jimin unveils the captivating tale of wild horses roaming the ranch, a narrative that unfolds with tales of Yoongi's quest to tame these untamed spirits, turning them into dependable companions through a gentle, patient approach.

Fascinated, you ponder the intricacies of Jimin's story. “I had no idea such a thing was possible,” you muse, savoring a sip of water as if to quench not just your thirst but also your curiosity.

“Yoongi has a real knack for gentling horses, it's like second nature to him,” he shares, his smile lighting up the room as he effortlessly joins you in tidying up after the meal.

As the moment lingers, a subtle sense of farewell hovers in the air, but you're not quite ready to part ways with Jimin. The warmth of his company, the echoes of the past, all make you wish he didn't have to leave just yet.

Gratitude colors his words as he stands in the hallway, boots on, ready to step out into the world again. “Thank you for having me over,” he expresses, his gaze carrying a blend of sincerity and a hint of reluctance.

“No problem,” you respond with a soft smile, “having you here was truly enjoyable.”

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers in your eyes for what feels like an eternity. There you stand, like a lovestruck fool, anticipating the one thing your brain has been yearning for since you glimpsed his softly bitten lips in the morning. The hope in his voice resonates, causing your heart to beat erratically in your chest once more.

Your gaze rises to meet his, and as he strides closer, his eyes lock onto yours. The proximity is electrifying; you sense his warm breath teasing your face, and anticipation builds as he leans in, closing the space between you.

You surrender to the moment, shutting your eyes as his warm hands cradle your cheeks. A delicate touch, his nose brushes against yours, setting off a delightful jolt that courses through your entire being. Then, in a tender ascent, his plush lips descend upon your forehead, leaving an imprint of warmth that lingers.

Instinctively, your fingers tighten around his biceps, a reflexive response to the unexpected closeness. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as the realization dawns – he's kissing your forehead, a gentlemanly gesture that leaves a trail of warmth lingering on your skin.

He withdraws, and as you open your eyes, his warm, smiling face is the last thing you see. “See you at home,” he whispers, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a lingering promise in the air.

As he gracefully exits the room, descending the stairs with an effortless charm, your heart beats wildly, a flutter of butterflies threatening to carry you away. Your entire being tingles, breath caught in a sweet suspension. A lovestruck smile plays on your lips, lingering like the echo of his presence.

Home.

He wants you to come home.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog (a reblog would really help getting the story out more), and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy, so please don’t be a silent reader 💜

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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