#15.07 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itstheghostofmypast · 3 months

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15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

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Rusty | Chapter 1 | S.R

Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - When you find a handsome cowboy in need of assistance at the side of the road you make the decision to help him, despite the personal risk.

A/N - just pretend for me that the episode Rusty took place before Believer and 300.

Paring - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

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

Warnings - some direct quotes taken from 15.07 Rusty, vague mentions of the events in 13.22 Believer and 14.01 300, depiction of injuries, Spencer’s intrusive thoughts, swearing.

WC - 6.5k

Chapter 1 - Wanted Dead or Alive

He’d watched the sun ebb across the sky, from where it began at its midday position directly overhead, scoring laboriously down, not impeded by a cloud in the expanse of blue.

He witnessed it leisurely recede across the stratosphere, edging lower and lower on its slow descent towards the horizon. With each passing hour the heat dwindled, the sweat that had gathered on his temples and forehead was drying and crusting against his skin.

The earth beneath him started to cool, unhurriedly, or perhaps he just got used to the temperature which seeped through the layers, beneath the denim of his shirt, further permeating his t-shirt until it scorched the skin of his back.

The black stetson, which was originally used to cover his eyes from the assault of the sun, was now resting on his chest.

It started growing darker around a half hour ago at his estimate and it wouldn’t be long before the darkness encompassed him, literally but maybe even figuratively too.

Maybe out here on this isolated stretch of desert miles outside of town, would be where former FBI

Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid would meet his end.

His heavy and tired eyes fluttered. He’d tried to fight it for hours now, desperate to stay awake in case a car passed by on the baron road. In all the hours he laid there, not a single one had. And now it was getting dark, the likelihood of a car even seeing him from the road was slim.

He gave over to it, closing his eyes as his fingers drummed against the dusty ground beneath him. He was taken back to a conversation of years passed, he could practically hear the thrum of the jet's engine as she spoke.

“All this talk of alternate realities, where do you think you’d be in a parallel universe? You know, one of your imagined futures?” Jennifer tucked the blanket tighter around her body, the BAU jet’s AC up high.

Spencer closed his book while his eyebrows furrowed in curious contemplation at his friend's question.

“I don’t know.” He shook his head lightly.

“Come on,” she gave him an almost knowing look. “If you weren’t an FBI Agent, what would you do?”

Spencer inhaled through his nose, the cool air tickling his sinuses before puffing the breath back out.

He glanced over his shoulder, then over JJ’s to check no one else was within ear shot.

“Promise not to laugh…?” He asked and she nodded slowly with a twitch at her lip. “A cowboy.”

He could still see the look of amusement coupled with confusion at his admittance. The way she couldn’t quite contain her smile, but also the way her forehead crinkled.

“A cowboy?” She repeated, as though doing so might help her make sense of his words.

“Yeah. I’d, uh, you know, have some horses, a few cattle; be surrounded by nature.” A slightly dreamy look washed over him.

Even now laying in the dirt as the sun set that same smile appeared on his grossly chapped lips. Even as his mind succumbed to the idea that he was to die out here, he couldn’t hold back.

Since he was a little boy he’d been oddly fascinated by cowboys and the old west. He was just five years old the first time his mother had read him The Log of a Cowboy, a nineteen-oh-three novel by Andy Adams.

The story followed the journey of young Tommy Moore, who is helping drive three thousand circle-dot longhorns along the Great Western Cattle Trail from Brownsville, Texas to Montana. It was written, he discovered at a later age, as Adams' response to unrealistic cowboy novels that were being penned at the time.

Spencer had clung to the normalcy of it. He’d never had a regular life, and knew most likely that he never would given his unusually high IQ.

Something about that tale had stuck with him his whole life. He kept the idea at the back of his mind, wondering if one day, once he retired, he might seek to find a piece of that which was spoken of in Adams' story.

“And what would you do with cattle?” JJ’s lip was still twitching, curling up a little at the corner as she imagined her straight-laced, suit-wearing best friend as a cowboy.

“You know, look at ‘em, pet ‘em…I hadn’t really thought about that. But I’ll figure it out.” He shrugged.

“Wow, I was…I was not expecting that.” She sat back in her chair, nodding somewhat appeasingly. A part of her could picture it, no matter how far-fetched the concept seemed.

After everything Spencer had dealt with in his life, maybe being a cowboy was the change of pace he so sorely needed.

He’d gone on to tell her how he envisioned the team there, even in his parallel universe they were still special to him, just as close as they were now. He spoke of how JJ ran a flower shop on Hickory Street with the boys helping out after school. Will was also there, an old-timey sheriff who protected the townspeople from trouble.

Rossi ran the saloon, where most of said trouble occurred. Penelope had a sanctuary for wounded animals, Alvez was a rancher. Simmons was a blacksmith while Tara and Emily owned the only hotel in town.

They were all happy in this timeline. Apart from the odd bar fight at Rossi’s, his make believe town was safe from all the evils of the world. He and his friends could live out simple lives, not to be perturbed by serial killers and rapists and the like.

But it was all conjecture, an innocent fantasy created in Spencer’s head of what he imagined his life could have been like. But in reality he was an agent of the law, he’d taken an oath to protect and serve. His alternate universe was nothing more than that.

Until it wasn’t.

The final straw, the last nail in the coffin of his illustrious career, was Benjamin Merva. After nearly dying at the hands of the cult leader, he knew it was the end for him.

With Merva’s blade at his throat, he remembered thinking, I can’t do this anymore. Two weeks later he stood in Emily Prentiss’ office handing her his resignation.

It briefly crossed his mind to teach full time. He’d been working more and more at Marlborough over the last few years and they’d always told him if he ever decided to leave the BAU there was a permanent position for him there.

But the thought had been short lived, barely a blip on his radar. And somehow he circled back to that conversation with JJ a few months prior to his abduction by the cult.

None of his former teammates could wrap their heads around the idea of Doctor Spencer Reid moving to live on the outskirts of Bandera, a small town fifty three miles outside of San Antonio, Texas.

He spent nearly his entire life savings on a ranch with almost sixty acres of land. It consisted of a single story wooden lodge in which he would live, fitted with a wrap-around porch for which he pictured himself relaxing in a rocker whilst watching the sunset over the rolling hills in the distance. It included a large barn, outhouse and stables, as well as a second, smaller lodge which was also habitable.

He equipped his own lodge minimally, a couch, a bed, a desk, a wardrobe and some bookshelves. He had the bare minimum kitchen appliances due to his inability to cook and his unwillingness to learn.

He brought a whole new closet full of clothes more appropriate for the setting. Crisp, pressed shirts were replaced by denims, flannels and plain tees, his converse and dress shoes were tossed in lieu of sturdy work and riding boots.

On behalf of a car, he brought a horse, a beautiful three year old, blue roan American Quarter Horse named Willow and to begin with purchased two cattle.

Now two years later he had four more cattle and two more horses. These two were stallions, both American Quarters, one black named Franklin and one brown called Wilbur.

Somewhere not too far away was the sound of hooves padding around in the dirt and the occasional huff of impatience from the large beast. Spencer’s eyes opened again and he cautiously rolled his head to the side in the dust. His eyes met the cloven hooves and thick blue-grey legs of his trusty steed.

“Willow,” he spoke, causing another huff of air to leave her mouth. “A dog, I should have gotten a dog. Lassie would be of much better use right now.”

Willow cantered around him, as though frustrated herself that they were still here after all these hours. She’d nudged him a few times in his ribs with her muzzle, silently asking her owner what was going on.

This was supposed to be a safer alternative to working at the BAU. After almost having his hyoid bone claimed by Merva he’d decided he’d put himself in harm's way for long enough.

But upon travelling back to town after taking Willow for a morning saunter into nearby Pipe Creek, he’d come across a wild horse at the side of the road.

The mare didn’t appear, on first glance, to be injured in any way but she was certainly a little skittish as he approached. He simply wanted to make sure she was okay before going on his way.

She was a flaxen and elegant beauty. Her chestnut-red coat billowed like a flame under the blazing sun and her golden-blonde mane like a wild halo as she galloped around in haste.

As he neared her on Willow’s back, his own steed seemed to agitate the other and she started to buck and neigh in fright. Not to be easily perturbed he tried to calm her with a series of “whoa girls,” and gentle pats of her back.

But then the wild horse let out a piercing sound, her back legs lifting effortlessly off of the ground and kicking Willow in the neck.

Willow herself had bucked at the impact, her front legs rising. Unprepared, he hadn’t been holding her reins and one foot hung at her side out of its stirrup, causing Spencer to slide back on her saddle.

He quickly tried to grab hold of something but coordination had never been his strong suit. It had taken him months worth of lessons to even be able to ride a horse and although he was an efficient rider now, it hadn’t improved his motor skills.

And so he slid, and he continued to slide as Willow raised herself on her haunches until she was almost vertical. His one foot was still in the stirrup, and as he fell his knee twisted with force, the same knee he’d been shot in so many years ago.

He swore he felt the tendons ripping beneath his skin and he screamed out in pain whilst trying to dislodge his foot. Once freed he flew to the ground, back slamming into the dirt with a thud and a groan.

He glanced up, pain searing through his body as Willow lowered herself back to the earth. The second horse was galloping wildly, still screeching out in fear. Willow approached it and Spencer groaned out, not wanting his own steed to be hurt by this out of control creature.

As expected, the wild horse bucked at Willow again but Willow trotted out of her way this time. Spencer slithered a hand out into the dirt, clicking his fingers at his mare to come to his aid. But instead of his own horse, it garnered the attention of the wild beast who suddenly ran at him with a fearsome gait.

He heard the bone in his arm crunching under the weight of the creature's heavy hoof as it galloped over his outstretched limb. He screamed loudly, the sound getting no further than the lonesome desert and petering out into nothing.

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

If Spencer Reid screams out in pain in the desert and no one is around to hear him, is he going to die alone?

He still had his old cell phone, he only kept it at Penelope’s insistence at being able to get in touch with him, check he was doing okay living the life of a hermit. He only used it to speak with his old team and as such, didn’t often take it out with him.

Right now it was sitting on his kitchen counter, next to his empty coffee mug and the book he’d been reading over breakfast. And now due to the oversight, he would no doubt die out here.

Willow trotted a little closer, bowed her head near to the ground and nudged Spencer in the ribs again, as if this might make him miraculously stand up and take her home.

“I’m trying,” he grumbled. “Shoulda got a dog. Man’s best friend, that’s what Alvez always said.”

Willow simply nudged him again and he rolled his tired and sore eyes.

Gritting his teeth, he decided to try and sit again. He braced his forearms against the ground, trying to turn a blind eye to the pain that rippled through his left extremity at the small movement. There was almost certainly a bone broken, maybe more than one.

Attempting to ignore the way the pain spread up and down his arm, causing a fire to burn through his entire upper body, he pushed himself against the dirt in an attempt to sit up right. The throbbing in his arm combined with the swell of discomfort down his spine made another booming groan erupt from his lungs and he moved no more than a few inches off the ground before, panting with the exertion, he fell back against the dirt.

Even if he was to get into a sitting position, he had no doubts that he wouldn’t make it any further. Without looking he knew his knee was swollen, ballooned up so much it was now pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his jeans. He wouldn’t be able to walk even if he could stand.

“Well, Willow, I guess this is the end of the road.” He closed his eyes, folding his good arm across his chest and leaving the other in the dirt at his side. “It’s ironic really, all those years at the BAU, all those times I thought I might die. This is not how I expected to meet my death.”

He felt oddly resided to this fate, almost feeling some kind of twisted relief. There really was no point in panicking, there was nothing he could do.

May as well lean into it, let it happen.

Keeping his eyes closed he breathed out through his nose, accepting that this was the way his life came to an end. They’d probably never even find his body and if they did it would be too scavenged by vultures to make a positive ID. Probably for the best, he couldn't imagine Garcia or JJ or any of the others having to identify his decomposed and ravaged remains.

He felt himself drifting swiftly, the heat and lack of hydration making him implausibly sleepy. He didn’t fight it, he let the tiredness wash over him. But before he could succumb entirely, his ears pricked at a sound off in the distance.

His eyes shot open once more and he tried to turn his head towards the road beyond the desert. If he wasn’t mistaken, he swore he heard the sound of tires on the gritty asphalt.

***

It was getting dark and you felt your eyes growing increasingly heavier. You’d been driving for hours, days in fact, stopping only for gas and to stock up on snacks and energy drinks.

Thinking of which, you loosened one hand from the steering wheel and reached blindly for the can sitting in the cup holder. Your hand wrapped around the lukewarm metal cylinder and brought it to your lips without taking your eyes off of the road.

The liquid was warmer than the can itself and you grimaced as it trickled down your throat. Grumbling under your breath you replaced the can in the cup holder and wiped your mouth with your sleeve.

You were heading for the border via desert roads and inconspicuous towns. You needed to lay low until you reached Mexico where you could keep your head down, keep your nose close to the ground.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, things weren’t meant to end this way. Your plan had gone wrong somewhere along the line and now you had to keep driving, until you reached your destination.

You were tired to your bones, the dull ache from driving countless miles seeping deep into every muscle. But you couldn’t stop. You had the push through and keep going no matter how exhausted you were.

You found yourself on a long stretch of desert road after passing through a small town, its signage declaring it Pipe Creek, Texas. The AC rattled through the car, almost blocking out the hum from the radio.

You couldn’t afford to use a GPS system, if you knew where you were others could know where you were too. You’d brought an old paper map early into your journey and if your bearings were correct you should be passing through the town of Bandera within a few miles.

You stifled a yawn and despite your better judgement, took another sip of the warm energy drink. It wasn’t warding off the tiredness, only making your heart thump heavily and a little erratically in your chest.

You stifled yet another yawn, eyes closing for a fraction of a second longer than was safe but the road thus far had been desolate.

However, upon opening your eyes there was suddenly a large and imposing creature standing several feet in front of your speeding car.

Your eyes grew wide and you slammed on the brake, the speed in which you’d been travelling forcing the vehicle to spin a little on its axis, gravel crunching under tires.

You tugged on the wheel as the car turned to the right, trying to straighten up as you came to a sudden and screeching halt. You breathed heavily, gripping the steering wheel and staring at the huge beast through your windscreen in the glow of your headlights.

The horse blinked several times at you, as though trying to convey a message but it remained on the road.

You exhaled loudly, keeping the engine running so as to keep the lights on, you threw open the door and stepped onto the asphalt.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” You glared at the horse, not daring to come too close in case it was vicious.

The horse blinked a few more times before bowing its head towards the side of the road. You frowned at it, watching it slowly canter in the direction it nodded.

“Okay, good.” You nodded with a frown as it walked off. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you, you crazy horse.”

As you turned back to your open door, over the sound of gravel crunching beneath the horses hooves, your ears picked up on another sound.

Turning back to where the horse had meandered, you squinted into the darkness, focusing your hearing.

“H-help? Please?” A crackly voice met your ears.

A shiver passed up your spine, suddenly on high alert.

“Is someone there?” You called back, not daring to move away from your vehicle.

“P-please? I’m really hurt.” The voice came again.

The horse had stopped walking now, you could just make out its figure in the dark. To its left was another figure laying in the dirt.

“Uh, you okay?” You called again, still not daring to come closer.

You didn’t trust this situation, you were a naturally suspicious person and this didn’t sit right with you. The horse had been used to get you to stop and you had no doubts if you were to go over to this person who claimed they needed help you’d find yourself in grave danger.

“No I’m not okay!” The voice grew exasperated. “I fell off my horse. I’m fairly certain I’ve broken my arm and twisted my knee. I can’t move.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, huddling against the side of the car.

“No offence mister, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m lying to you?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No! I swear! I’m a…” he trailed off and sucked in a breath. I’m a what? What did he plan on saying? I’m an FBI Agent? It had been years since he’d left the BAU but the habit to announce himself as such still lived inside of him. “I’m in a great deal of pain.”

You clutched yourself tighter, rolling your lip between your teeth in silent contemplation. He did sound in pain, but he could have just been a good actor.

“Look, I’m really not itching to get murdered tonight and I’m kinda in a hurry.” You scuffed the toe of your sneaker in the dirt.

“You can’t leave me here!” The voice begged. “You’re the first car to pass in hours! I need to go to the hospital.”

“I…I really have to go.” You shuffled towards the open car door.

“So you’re just going to leave me here to die?” The voice turned sour. “Because that’s what will happen. If I don’t die of dehydration or starvation, I will undoubtedly be eaten alive by all manner of animals that live out here. Hell, my horse will probably turn against me if she’s not fed soon. Do you really want that on your conscience?”

You grumbled under your breath, looking between the car and the shadowy figure on the ground. With a huff you spun towards the vehicle and climbed onto your knees on the driver's seat. Reaching across the central console you popped open the glove compartment and withdrew the item sheathed inside.

He heard you land back in the gravel before the sound of tentative footsteps getting closer. The dirt crunched under your feet, your eyes flitting between the silhouette and the horse who was ambling around. The item you’d gotten from the car was being held in both hands, pointing at the figure on the floor.

As you drew closer you started to make out some features. He appeared to be tall, even laying down, slim build with a mop of dirty curls brushing against the ground. He wore jeans, a denim shirt over a white tee and a black stetson laid on his chest.

He blinked a couple of times as you came into view, trying to lift his head to get a better look at you. But what he saw made the colour drain from his face and his eyes bulged from his head.

“What the hell?” He tried to shuffle backwards but he couldn’t move due to the pain coursing through him. “What are you doing?”

The barrel of a revolver was staring at him between your hands, pointing directly at his head. His heart beat frantically against his chest as he scrambled to move but his limbs were uncooperative.

He stared down the barrel of countless guns in his time with the BAU, not to mention the fact that out in these parts many people carried shotguns. He wasn’t usually so perturbed by seeing weapons, even when they were pointing at him, but this was an exception.

“You really hurt?” You stepped a little closer until you were standing right by his booted feet.

“Yes!” He tried to insist. “P-please put the gun away.”

You didn’t at first, keeping it levelled at him while you gave him a once over. One of his knees was clearly swollen under the fabric of his jeans and his left arm was bent and disarticulated. He genuinely didn’t seem as though he could move.

With a sigh you lowered the gun, tucking it in the waistband of your own jeans. Cautiously you came closer to him until you were next to his chest where you knelt in the dirt next to him.

His eyes were piercing, a deep intense brown with flecks of gold that glistened in the moonlight. He had high cheekbones and a chiselled jawline which was peppered with a few days worth of stubble. His parted lips were plump and chapped.

Did he have to be so attractive?

“Can you help me up?” He asked, pouting slightly.

“I can try.” You shrugged.

Shuffling closer you placed a hand on his shoulder, using your other hand to take hold of his. He flinched a little at your touch but you assumed it was due to the pain.

You used your grip on his shoulder to manoeuvre him, peel him away from the ground and pulled the rest of his weight using his hand. He groaned deeply as he started to be lifted, the agony evident on his tongue.

He tried to assist you even though the movement felt like it was sending daggers down his spinal column. He used you to anchor himself, steadily pulling him into a seated position. Once he was up, you let go of him and sat back on your haunches.

“Now what?” You asked with a curious look.

His face was contorted from the pain, his brow furrowed deeply and his eyes downturned.

“I…I have no idea.” He groaned. “There is no way I can stand.”

“Should I call paramedics?” You picked up his stetson which had fallen into his lap and ran your fingers along the brim.

“I think that might be wise.” He agreed, pinching his eyes closed as the pain flooded through his limbs.

Keeping hold of his hat in one hand you drew your cell phone from your pocket and dialled 9-1-1. It was only when the phone was already to your ear that it occurred to you what a terrible idea this was.

You’d been so careful up until now, was this handsome cowboy going to be your downfall?

You noticed the way your voice pitched and cracked as you informed the operator of what had happened and tried to explain where exactly you were with a little help from the stranger.

Somewhere between Pipe Creek and Bandera. You’ll see a car. And a damn horse.

Within a few minutes you were off the phone.

He was leaning back against his good arm, hand braced against the dirt behind him. His eyes were still closed and you saw his face twitching with each surge of pain.

“So, uh, you new at this?” You waved the stetson in the direction of the horse who was still ambling around.

He opened his eyes and looked between you and his trusty steed.

“No, I just…there was this wild horse and I was trying to check to see if she was okay. She got spooked by Willow and the next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He closed his eyes again.

“Willow? Cute.” You smiled slightly at the great beast. “A little intimidating.”

“She may look that way but she’s incredibly docile. Maybe a little unpredictable in new scenarios but on the whole she’s pretty placid.” His eyes squeezed tighter as another wave of pain thrummed along his spine.

“Uh,” you continued looking between him and the horse as a thought occurred to you. “Where does she go when you get taken away to the hospital?”

His eyes opened again, landing on you in a look that told you it also hadn’t occurred to him either.

“You, uh, know how to ride?” He tried his luck.

“No I don’t not.” You scoffed. “I’m a city girl. I know nothing about horses.”

“She’s incredibly intelligent. She knows the way home, she just needs the impetus to get there.” Once again his eyes fluttered closed.

“Meaning?”

“She’ll walk beside your car, show you the way. But you’d need to feed her in order to keep her going. I can get her to do it without the treats but you’re a stranger to her.” His fingers dug into the dirt, the ache that spread up and down the length of his back was brutal.

And then there was the pain shooting through his left arm and the throb in his old knee injury. This was not the day he had planned.

“So you’re proposing I take your horse home?” You scoffed at the ludicrousy of it.

“She won’t make it back on her own.” He tried to shrug his shoulders but stopped short when it caused a new eruption of pain.

“Dude, I don’t even know you.” You shook your head, still fingering the stetson.

“I’ll admit it's a little unorthodox, but I can’t leave her out here.” He forced his eyes open, pleading with you.

“I told you, I’m really in a hurry to get somewhere.” You shook your head. “I called the paramedics, I did the good Samaritan thing. But as soon as they get here, I’ve really gotta go.”

“Where are you heading in such a hurry?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Seems like that’s none of your business.”

“I’m not trying to be nosy.” He shook his head lightly but even that caused him to wince. “It’s late is all, I was just wondering where you had to be in such a rush.”

“Never you mind.” You grumbled. “But the sooner I get there I can finally rest. I’ve been driving for days.”

“Do this for me and you can spend the night at my ranch.” He whined slightly as he spoke.

“Excuse me?” You shuffled in the dirt.

“Oh gosh,” he huffed. “Not like that. I’m not…I’m not hitting on you. I am undoubtedly going to have to spend the night in hospital, I have a spare lodge on my ranch which doesn’t get used. If you get Willow home for me, you can spend the night, you must be tired.”

You shuffled again, still for some reason playing with his stetson in your hands in an absent mind. He was looking at you with a pleading expression, begging you to do this for him. But it all seemed too weird.

“You’re willing to let a stranger stay in your home without you even being there?” You clicked your tongue.

“If it means Willow gets home safe, yes.” He sighed.

“What if I rob you? You don’t know me, I could be a criminal.” You reached forward and placed the stetson atop his head gently.

“I really don’t have a lot worth stealing. I mean I have more horses and cattle…nothing really worth anything unless you're a rancher which clearly you aren’t. I’m willing to risk it.” He once again tried to shrug but groaned at the effort.

“This is insane.” You shook your head, unbelieving you were even considering this.

“I’ll admit it’s not ideal circumstances but I need to go to the hospital, and I also need to get Willow home. And if you continue to drive all night you’re going to end up in an accident. In a weird way it’s kinda a win-win situation.”

“Until I rob you.”

“You’re not gonna rob me.” For the first time a smile spread to his lips, the pain momentarily slipping away from his features.

It was a damn nice smile, one which you were sure it was impossible to say no to. But nonetheless you tried.

“You couldn’t possibly know that.” You swallowed.

“I'm good at reading people.” His smile grew a little. “You have a trustworthy face.”

“Oh do I?” You tilted your head to the side in curiosity.

“Mm hmm.” He nodded, seemingly forgetting all the pain he’d previously been in. “A very trustworthy, very pretty face.”

You swallowed again, shuffling backwards in the dirt slightly in discomfort. Spencer averted his eyes at his omission. The pain must have been going to his head, maybe it was due to the dehydration. It was unlike him to be so bold.

“Oh jeez,” you muttered under your breath. “Fine, fine I’ll take your stupid horse-”

“Willow, her name is Willow.”

“I’ll take Willow home for you and I may or may not stay at your ranch and then I may or may not rob you.”

“And then you may or may not pick me up from the hospital in the morning? Assuming I’m allowed to leave so soon.” His smile was growing, but the pinch of pain was back in his eyes.

“Are you for real?” You hissed. “No, no I am not doing that.”

“I don’t have a car, and the nearest hospital is just outside of San Antonio, like forty five miles southeast of here. How do you expect me to get home?” His smile faded.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s my problem.” You suddenly pushed yourself to your feet. “I don’t have time to hang around this little Podunk place. I have to be somewhere.”

He was silent for a moment or two, looking up at you under the wide brim of his stetson. His eyes shone in the moonlight and caused your stomach to coil into knots.

“Fine.” He spat. “Just go, sorry I bothered you. So much for that southern charm.”

“Never said I was from the south.” You rolled your eyes.

You fell silent and in the distance you both noted the distinctive sound of sirens. Seconds later you saw the red and blues lighting up the dark stretch of road, heading in your direction.

He didn’t miss the way you jumped a little at the initial sound and how your body seemed to go rigid at the sight of the flashing lights.

“You're off the hook, you did your good deed now you’re free to go.” The man scoffed, a sarcastic twang evident in his voice.

“Goddamnit,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Fine, I will take your damn horse home.”

“Willow.” He corrected you and when you looked back down at him he had a mildly smug smile on his lips.

“Don’t make me change my mind.” You huffed.

Soon the ambulance was screeching to a stop next to your car and two paramedics jumped out the front of the vehicle.

You stood aside while the cowboy, who told them his name was Spencer Reid, explained what had happened with the wild horse and how he’d ended up on the floor unable to move for hours.

One of the paramedics got a stretcher out the back of the vehicle while the other delicately helped Spencer to lay back down in the dirt. The stretcher was brought over and lowered down as far as it would go.

“This might hurt a little, sir.” The woman, who was near his head, spoke.

“Mm hmm.” Spencer grit his teeth, readying himself for the pain.

The female EMT tucked her gloved hands gently under Spencer’s shoulders while the man wrapped his around Spencer’s ankles.

You hovered near the horse - Willow - arms tucked around your waist. You curled in on yourself at the howl of pain that erupted from Spencer when he was lifted onto the stretcher. The EMT’s were quick to strap him in and lead him across the bumpy ground towards the ambulance.

“Sorry, can you give me a minute?” His voice pierced over the sound of the wheels on gravel before they stilled.

He looked towards you and beckoned you closer with an almost imperceptible motion of his head.

“My keys are in my right front pocket.” He cast his eyes downwards.

You drew your lips into a tight line and huffed a little. It felt like crossing over a line diving into the pocket of a stranger but you’d moved so far past this being weird it almost seemed normal. You fished in his pocket and pulled out a loop of keys.

“The biggest one, that’s the key to my lodge. Inside the lodge on the hook is another key for my other cabin where you can stay the night. The linen is fresh and there’s clean towels on the back of the door in the bathroom. Help yourself to anything in my fridge.” He told you.

“And how do I find it?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, keys dangling from your index finger.

“Willow will show you the way, she’s well trained. Oh, her treats!” He used his good hand to pat the pocket on his shirt.

You huffed once more, manoeuvring around the EMT’s to his other side and freeing a ziploc bag full of apple and carrot slices.

“The stable is a little way left of my lodge, you can’t miss it. There are two other horses there, her paddock is the one on the far right. Can you take her number down?” He glanced at the paramedic nearest him. “Have someone call her when I’m discharged?”

The paramedics clearly sensed there was a strange story here but neither wanted to ask. Instead the man reached for a clipboard tucked inside the van and handed it to you.

It was a patient intake form and he pointed with one finger towards the emergency contact section whilst handing you a pen.

With a sigh you took it, scrawled down your number and - without hesitation - a fake name before handing it back to him.

“Thank you for this. I owe you one.” He offered you a meek smile.

“Oh you owe me more than one.” You grumbled as they set about lifting the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

You watched them load him, the man staying in the back of the cab while the woman closed the doors and went to the front. Soon the engine was starting back up and the ambulance turned back towards the way it had come and drove off, sending particles of dust flying in its wake.

Holding a stranger's keys in one hand and a bag of fruit and veg on the other, you turned back to the horse - Willow you kept reminding yourself - who was seemingly watching the ambulance retreat with her owner.

Cautiously you stepped closer to the giant mare, hesitant steps, holding up the bag of goodies.

“Say, Willow?” You rustled the bag and she turned to look at you. “What do you say you show me where you live?”

Willow seemed to perk up and trotted closer to you, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say the beast was smiling at you.

You opened the ziploc bag and pulled out a slightly slimy slice of apple and dangled it in front of her eye line.

You started walking backwards towards your car whilst keeping your eyes on Willow who was following appeasingly, eyes trained on the piece of fruit.

When you reached your car you held the slice in the palm of your hand and proffered it towards her. She gratefully took it, large gums spreading across your open hand while she shuffled the slice into her mouth.

You grimaced at the feeling, her saliva coating your hand in a muddy, sticky mess. You wiped your hand on the thigh of your jeans.

“Gross. So gross.” You sighed, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Why the hell am I doing this again?”

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