horse wrangler

DAMAGED {Namjoon Angst One Shot}

I’m damaged. That’s the easiest way to put it. I’m damaged. People will say that someone is to blame, their actions are what caused me to be damaged, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m damaged. I live my day rather normally, it’s only in certain moments that you can see who I am, how broken I am, how hurt and scarred I am under all the smiles and makeup.

When you’re young you want to believe anyone who says they love you. You want to be in love, to know what that coveted feeling is like. People spend their entire lives trying to find love and as a young teen, you want to feel like you’ve found it. I wanted to find it.

He seemed perfect. He said all the right things, made me feel happy and cared for, treated me well. Treated me well, until he didn’t. You see, sometimes people aren’t nice. Sometimes you want so badly to believe you’re in love that you try to say he didn’t mean it, he was just mad this one time, this second time, this third time. You try to make excuses until the excuses need excuses and now everything hurts.

As an adult, I still hold emotions from that time. A scared little girl worried about her boyfriend even though he was the one causing the pain. I want to believe he didn’t mean it, but in my heart of hearts I know I have to be more careful of guys like him. So as you can see, I’m damaged. And that’s where the story begins.


I remember it like it was yesterday. I was walking with a friend and there he was, his mask was covering a majority of his face and even then his baseball cap made it difficult to see his eyes. I had read the articles and fan posts, I knew that they needed a vacation, so rather than screaming his name like an obnoxious fan, I kept walking.

His eyes met mine for a split second and that was enough to make my heart pound. It was a rush of adrenaline, but it was fleeting. I would post about the encounter on my blog and that would be that. So as I took my eyes off him, I walked up to the coffee shop counter.

As I stood waiting for my drink, a tap on the shoulder took me out of my mind.A hand reached in front of me to give me a packet of gum. Now most strangers would pass up a packet of stray gum and not think twice, so as I took the packet wearily from this stranger’s hand, I turned. My exasperation was replaced by astonishment.

Namjoon, THE Kim Namjoon, stood in front of me. His eyes pleading, but he wasn’t saying anything. Thinking it was due to not wanting to be recognized, I gave a quick nod and a thank you. As I was ready to turn back around, his deep voice rang in almost perfect English.

You should be careful, if you keep dropping things, people might find you an easy target. It was kind yet somehow rude. You looked at him. Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind. With that I heard my drink order. Walking up, I grabbed the mug. Giving him a slight smile and a wave with the gum in my hand, I headed for the door.

This is so going on my blog. I spoke to myself as I began walking, not really caring to look in front of me.

I just told you to stop being an easy target. His Korean sounded exasperated, as I turned on my heel.

JUST MET KIM NAMJOON! I CAN DIE HAPPY! Post. I slid my phone in my pocket as I continued to look at him. He seemed more possessive than I thought he would be, it’s starting to piss me off. I stay away from guys like this, the ones who think their knights in shining armour, only to hurt you the next day.

As my internal dialogue pulled away at him, I found a smile to put on my face. I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time. I spouted off in Korean, thank god for my friends teaching me before I came here. His eyes flickered as if I was some challenger, but soon he gave a slight nod.

So you work here? He motioned to my outfit. It was simple office attire, but you could tell I had a desk to sit behind. I nodded and began walking in the direction of my building.

I could feel my phone buzzing with comments and likes as people began pouring in questions, but it would have to wait. Where do you work? He continued to walk with me.

Don’t you have managers who are looking for you? I looked around as if waiting for one of them to start interrogating me, but he just chuckled.

Ah, so you know who I am? He mumbled with a small grin peeking from behind his mask.

Are we going to keep up this question game? My eyes flickered slightly. The banter was fun, but I needed to go to work. So with a slightly defeated look, he watched me walk into my office building.


Everyday became a routine. He would be at the same coffee shop. It was starting to freak me out. The last guy who showed this much interest was … Let’s not talk about him.

But Namjoon was different. I hated saying that, but he didn’t show the same qualities as my ex. But I was still weary. I would end conversation quickly, I would stop going to the coffee shop for a couple of days, but no matter what he would still somehow be stuck in the back of my mind.

The scariest part was that I began looking forward to the conversations, the quick walks to work, the little smiles here and there. He would sit at the corner table and as I walked in, he would gracefully get into line behind me.

It wasn’t until he asked for my number that my heart began to shake. He had said in passing that he would be going on tour soon, so I assumed this routine would end, but he didn’t see it that way. And now I was starting to worry.

I couldn’t really figure out a good reason to not give him my contact info, so I just handed it to him. Namjoon’s smile was deadly. All I could do was smile back and say that I needed to go to work.


The days after were met with little texts. He would send pictures of the placed they were going, I would live the life of an idol vicariously through him. Our friendship was growing stronger and I didn’t know how to feel about it.


I stood there after my shower, staring at the scar. The only physical remembrance of that asshole ever being in my life was the scar on my back just below my left shoulder blade. I hated that tiny patch of skin, discolored from the abuse. This was the reason I couldn’t let anyone in.

Slipping my shirt on, I thought of my love life since him. Douche bags and fuckbois, nothing to write home about. I kept my distance from feeling true love. Those guys were solely objects. I knew how to not have strong feelings for them and they reciprocated.

Grabbing my phone, I texted Namjoon good night, and slipped into bed. I knew why I was anxious, why I kept looking at the scar, why I kept thinking of the past. Because Namjoon was making me feel things that I kept myself away from and it scared me.


My friend had come to visit me. She had quickly become one of my best friends even though we met on tumblr and lived states away, but now she was in Seoul, laughing over a drink as I tried to form words at that fact that Kim Namjoon knew who I was. Told you it would happen.

She rolled her eyes as I gave her a nervous look. Refilling my wine, I recounted my feelings. She understood me and my past enough to know why I would be freaking out. So as we sat there, she surveyed me with gentle eyes.

She was one of the only people that didn’t make me feel broken. She knew how to put into words my past without making it seem small and insignificant. It was a part of my life that changed me, made me stronger, even if I didn’t see it that way.

With her advice in mind, she looked at me and laughed. What? I asked with my eyebrows furrowed as I sipped a little more of my wine.

Just don’t let him find your blog! And with that the two of us continued to laugh the night away.


Namjoon had made a decision. He knew how he felt about me and I guess somewhere along the line, he wanted to confess. I didn’t want that day to come. I wanted us to stay where we were, but here I was standing in a park at night with an idol too popular for my civilian status.

I want to believe I know a lot about you. He started off cautiously.

That’s true. I added, but there were things that sprang into the back of my mind that I couldn’t tell him about. He continued to look me in the eye, his eyes calm and gentle.

I want to know how you feel about me because I think I’m starting to feel something more. And there it was. It hung in the air. I felt the knots in my chest as I looked at him. He was smiling and I smiled out of habit. Can you say something please? His eyes bore into mine and I knew I needed to explain.

You don’t want a girl like me. He looked at me confused and ready to object. I’m damaged. I’m broken. I’m not someone you want to fix. His eyes turned to alarm as I continued. I don’t let people in. I suck at talking about my feelings. I’m scared of love and commitment. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you, but I know, I know that you’ll be better without me. You’ll find a girl that is perfect and nice and isn’t damaged.

How are you damaged? This was the moment of truth. So I opened my mouth and closed it, trying to find the right words.

When I was younger, I thought a guy loved me. Turns out he didn’t, instead I was his target, his punching bag, I was the thing he got angry at. I was too naive to know that it wasn’t love, that it was too fucked up to be love, so I took it. My voice faltered. I didn’t tell people this, at least not in person. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk to Namjoon about, but he deserved to know. I’m not telling you this so you can pity me. I’m telling you this so you will walk away and find someone that will be happy. That will want to love you and not be so scared. Someone who will look at you and be okay will giving you her world rather than trying to banish you from it.

I felt his arms envelop me as I breathed in his scent. I struggled slightly, but he loosely kept his arms around me. Like a lion and its tamer, a horse and its wrangler, he seemed to know how to calm me.


He spent weeks. Months. Slowly allowing me to dip my toes into the relationship. We didn’t act like more than friends for a while. But he was okay with that. He realized that I needed time. So as we continued to walk down this path of becoming more than friends and developing a relationship, I tried to be open about my fears. I tried to tell him about the past. When I would bring up my ex, about a fight or a night he was especially angry, Namjoon’s jaw would tense.

Namjoon had told you on many occasions that if it wasn’t for distance, he would have beaten my ex. I would simply smile and shake my head. That’s the past right? He would nod, but you knew in the back of his mind, he still was planning his revenge.


Namjoon and I had been dating for about 3 months, when we finally got intimate. It was a mixture of him getting back from promotions and me being completely horny that resulted in us throwing our clothes around the room and hopping into bed.

After, he was stroking my back, when his finger stopped on my scar. He knew about the scar but this was the first time he was seeing it. His eyes looked like they would begin shedding tears at any moment. Namjoon, it’s fine. I tried to move his hand away, but he found the tattered skin once more.

It’s just, I love you and I think you’re beautiful and even this scar is something that I can’t not love. I want to hate it, but it’s a part of you. I can’t not love all of you. The tears were now forming in my eyes. No one had ever said my scar was beautiful, no one outside of my followers and friends had made me feel beautiful, no one made my heart swell like this.

Namjoon, I’m scared of how much I love you. I let the tears fall as he cupped my face. I’m truly damaged.

You’re not damaged. You’re mine. You’re all mine. He kissed the tears off my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him. It was progress, a huge step forward.


Months turned into years. Years turned into decades. Our love grew. It was something that was more than just skin deep. He knew all my flaws and I, his. We built each other up, we fought about petty shit, we danced horribly around the house.

Our life together brought life and death, joys and sorrows. We laughed and cried.

No matter how much he tried to tell me, I knew I was damaged. But that was okay, because he loved me. Damaged and all.


Title: Ride With Me - part eight
Serie’s prompt: Alternate Universe (AU) in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona to gain work experience. During her time on the ranch she develops a strong connection with a wrangler and horse trainer named Dean. A story about a cowboy who falls for the girl, a story about the importance of family.
Prompt part 8: The day starts wonderful with a cattle break out, keeping the crew busy in the early hours. It’s turns out to be an omen of what to come, because as the day progresses, the day only gets worse. Then Ash gets the news and doesn’t take losing his job too well.
Words: 5115 words
Characters: Dean, Jo, Ash, Bobby, Ellen, Benny, Garth, Rufus Turner, Reader
Pairings: Dean x reader (not in this part yet, but I’m getting there!)
Warnings: language, heavy argument, angst(ish), drama
Author’s note: I just cannot be able to keep these chapters short, but who cares. This chapter is different from the other ones, heavier and a little more drama. I hope you enjoy! 
Tags: Below the story. Want to get tagged? Send me a message!
Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

7.30 AM, Monday morning. Several hundred hooves tremble the ground. Earthily colored dust has turned into dark mud overnight as the heavens unleashed a rainstorm that still hasn’t stopped coming down. The cattle moohs restless, anxiously trying to stick together as the herd. A dog barks over the sound of it all, his enthusiastic calls trumped by the shouts and whistles of the wranglers.
  “Yah!”, Dean shouts, cutting off young stock that threatens to fan out.
Droplets as big as marbles come down, the water that pools in the brim of his hat pours down whenever he tips it forward. It’s still cold this morning, now that there is no sunshine to burn the night away. The long leather coat he’s wearing protects him from that, but the rain started coming through the seems on his shoulders and elbows two hours ago and a steady drip down his neck has drenched his shirt already. Dean has been in the saddle since four O'clock, ever since the thunder woke him up and an eerie gut feeling began to unsettle him. Something was wrong, he felt it in his bones. As he stepped out onto the porch, shrugging on his coat and putting on his ivory colored Sheplers hat, he immediately noticed the distressed young stock on the other side of the fence than where they were supposed to be. Apparently the cattle panicked in the thunderstorm, took down a gate and escaped the pen, splitting the herd in two. They were absolutely all over the place. With a buyer coming in at 9 AM, he had to gather the two hundred cows and bulls fast if he wanted to turn off a financial disaster. So here they are; wet through, tired and miserable, trying to maneuver their horses on the slick surface. A perfect start for this dreadful Monday.

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HTTYD Western AU: Wild Spirits Prologue

His heart was wild,

But I didn’t want to catch it,

I wanted to run with it,

To set mine free.


               My names Hiccup.

               Great name I know, and I honestly still don’t know how I was carted off with it. I suppose it could be because I’m one of the smallest wranglers in Berk, or that I was born early. I’ve never asked, although I suppose it would make a good question.

               My father is the great Stoick “the Vast” Haddock, one of the best and well-known sheriff’s in the country. He’s big, has got all the muscle, taller than most, can shoot any gun from any distance and still hit the target. He’s a man not to be reckoned with, and many outlaws have gone under his hand.

               Me? I’m his deputy. Well, that’s what I’m told. And even though I wear the little brass star on my chest, often time’s I hide it under my bandanna or pin it inside my shirt. It’s not like anyone listens to me anyways, and that little star has gotten me into more trouble then I care to explain. The title deputy isn’t really acknowledged by… anybody, it’s more of a statement that yes, I’m Hiccup, the failure of a son to Stoick Haddock.

               The title “Hiccup the Useless” is starting to pick up now, and I try to ignore it, but Samson “Snotlout” Jorgenson finds it some kind of joke, as do the twins, Tyler “Tuffnut” Thoroston and Rachel “Ruffnut” Thoroston. Fred “Fishlegs” Ingerman seems to be the calmer one out for the other teen wranglers my age. But he can afford to be shy, for he’s got the bulk to make up for it and a good shooting hand. He’s never been mean to me… exactly… but has definitely never stood up for me either.

               Then, there’s Astrid Hofferson, one of the best horse wranglers in Berk. Even though she’s just fifteen, she can still wrangle a wild mustang down with one hand tied behind her back. And gods, she’s one of the prettiest gals in town. She’s got this wild blonde hair that seems untamable, always tied back in a heavy braid although hair seems determined to escape it. She wears this old Stetson that I haven’t seen her go anywhere without, along with a leather beaded headband of some sort that overlapped her hair and forehead. Most of the time she wears leather leggings tucked inside worn cowboy boots, and even though I know she doesn’t do it to look good, she accidently makes herself even more attractive. Added with the tight blue tank top and leather vest, exposing her bare arms that had leather chords tied around the biceps- she’s a woman that all the teens in Berk are after.

               Even though she’s never out and out made fun of me, like the others, she’s never tried to stop the bullying either. But that gives me hope that perhaps she doesn’t truly hate me- at least not as much as the others do. Still, I don’t stand a chance. Who’s going to want Hiccup the Useless anyways? Not to mention I’m skinnier then a pole, and I’m shorter than her. Plus I’m a terrible shot.

               Most deputies out here can shoot fairly well- if not reward winners. Not me. I’ve been practicing with a gun since I was eight, and even now when I’m fifteen and sworn in as a deputy, I still can’t shoot straight to save my life. Dad’s tried to teach me, a long time ago, but after five tries and failures he gave up, and it was Gobber who took over the job.

               Gobber’s my Dad’s best friend and voice of reason, although to me he’s like another father… or more like the father I never had. He teases, sure, and he’s rough at times but Gobber knows when to stop. And he’s always been there for me, even in the hardest times when all my Dad and I seemed to do was fight. I even stayed over at his Blacksmith’s shop a couple of nights when I was too tired to go home, or just plain didn’t want to.

               I’ve worked with Gobber over the past three years in the forge, it distracts me. And many might think that me, as a deputy, would have many and beyond duties to tend to. Nope. I do not. My Dad just gave me the title deputy years ago, before I became a total nuisance Now I carry it just so he can call on my whenever he wishes without fighting me, for I’m his deputy, and I should listen to his rules no matter what- even if I find them petty and not exactly the jobs deputies should be doing. I’m more his delivery boy then anything, so I for the most part hang out at the forge and help Gobber with all the work there. It’s one place where I feel like I can actually do something right, like I stand a chance. I don’t goof up as much, I know how to handle myself in the forge. It’s my only refuge.

               I’m not allowed to go out and hunt outlaws, bandits, or cattle rustlers like my Father and the other “teens in training” do. I’m told to stay behind and “stay out of trouble”, and even though I’m the deputy and should be the one to watch the town, Spitelout, my Uncle, is put in charge of Berk while my Dad’s away.

               Yep, so is my life on Berk. Not too terrible, but definitely not great either. I have a feeling it won’t change any time soon either, so I try to do the best with it, the best that I can.

               It’s hard, yeah, and times get tough. But I’ll just try and push through and hope for the best.

               Hiccup stepped out onto the wooden deck of the porch, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight that skimmed shadows across the ground. The sun was barely peaking above the hills in the distance, and Hiccup could feel it in every bone in his body. Every part of him was screaming at him to go back to bed, to lie down and get some well needed rest. But he knew that if he ever wanted to get anything done- or even survive for that matter- he’d have to get his butt moving and head down to the forge.

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Title: Ride With Me - part six
Serie’s prompt: Alternate Universe (AU) in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona to gain work experience. During her time on the ranch she develops a strong connection with a wrangler and horse trainer named Dean. A story about a cowboy who falls for the girl, a story about the importance of family.
Prompt part 6: Reader’s hard work pays off and she joins the guests and crew on a morning ride. Dean casually flirts with her and she does the best she can not to fall for it. Luckily Jo is there to talk to.
Words: 1757 words
Characters: Dean, Jo, Reader
Pairings: Dean x reader (not in this part yet, but I’m getting there!)
Warnings: language and hangovers, maybe even a little fluff?
Author’s note: Well it took me long enough! I promised an extra long chapter, but the second part was running so long that I decided to cut it in two. Upside: there’s a new chapter coming very soon!
Tags: Below the story. Want to get tagged? Send me a message!
Previous parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Okay, maybe the tequila last night wasn’t such a good idea. Neither was that margarita the previous night, or the drinking game the night before that one. Or was it the other way around? You cannot seem to recall, but today it’s Friday, so at least tomorrow you can sleep your way through the headache. Never ever did you drink as much as you did this week. Normally that would bother you, especially considering you’re not here on Spring break. But when the drinks are offered in a time when you need a little something to help you stop overthinking the feelings that you are developing for Dean, you couldn’t care less about the increase of your alcohol consumption. 

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the bird and the rifle [clexa]

she knows- she absolutely knows- that this isn’t her fault, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

so clarke does what she never thought she’d do: she runs.

(eventually, she has to stop running.)


the horse wrangler au that literally not one person asked for.


To her the name of father was another name for love.

-Fanny Fern

For echoes-of-starlight


Title: Ride With Me - part one
Prompt: AU in which the reader is a horse rider who goes to a ranch in Arizona to gain work experience. During her time on the ranch she develops a strong connection with a wrangler and horse trainer named Dean. A story about a cowboy who falls for the girl, a story about the importance of family.
Words: 4276 words
Characters: Dean, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, Benny, Garth
Pairings: Dean x reader (not in this part yet, you have to be a little patient)
Warnings: just language for this part, but further up fluff, angst, injury, maybe slightly smutish.
Author’s note: I love working on this! I’m a rider myself and it’s really great to use that in my writing. It’s nice not to write about supernatural creatures, hunts and death for a change. This is going to be a multiple part story (I’ve planned 14 parts) so get in the saddle and enjoy the ride!
Tags: @effie-w, because your such a great support! (Want to get tagged whenever I post a story, send me a message!)

“This is just great…”, you mutter, glancing at your phone for the time again.After a five and a half hour flight with delightful turbulence next to a sweaty middle aged banker with a fear of flying who had way too much garlic for lunch, you thought you were done. But now that you are waiting outside Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport with no one in sight to pick you up, it comes to mind that the universe isn’t going to stop toying with you just yet. On top of it all, the weather decided to throw a curveball as well. What happened to the lovely sun rays and comfortable temperatures from the brochures is a mystery to you, because right now it’s so humid that the fabric of your clothing clings to your skin as if it’s trying to hold on for dear life. To make matters worse rain has started to fall down from the clouded sky. Right, monsoon season. Oh well, at least the entrance of the arrival hall offers you shelter. With a sigh you sit down on you oversized suitcase, scanning your surroundings for a driver. You could eat a horse, as a figure of speech. Obviously you would never eat a horse, you love those animals. They are the reason why you touched down in Phoenix after all. 

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