If you take requests, I wouldn't mind if you wrote some sort of one shot for Jett Rink. There's literally no material for him out there and the only other thing about him was created by you, so, yeah, anything that comes to mind. Thank you. Love me a lovesick, obsessed puppy Jett. ❤️
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ୨ Jett Rink x reader ୧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
» a/n: sorry this took a while #procastinationqueen. also yay my first Jett Rink req! tysm <33 i totally agree this fandom is tiny, maybe if i write for it more people will show up, who knows.
You were caught.
Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, home hours earlier than she previously stated, Luz watched wide eyed you standing pushed against the counter with Jett's hands on your waist, your lipstick smudged along his jawline, face and neck, hand cupping the side of his face.
In the split second before Luz could open her mouth Jett sprang off you, hands in the air like a crook caught red handed. He began speaking, nonsense mostly. Deflecting blame from you, creating a story that he cornered you instead of it being a mutual affair.
An attempt to keep your name clear, while tarnishing his own.
Luz stormed out of the house, Jett following her as the two argued back and forth.
That rest of the day you stayed in your bedroom, awaiting your husband's return. You paced your room, heart thumping like the hooves of a racehorse, covered in sweat as you stressed about his reaction. The heat coming in from the window did not help either, adding to your anxious and dizzy mind.
The evening goes by quickly, and soon the sky reddens and the world around you darkens with the sun escaping past the line on the horizon.
You see Benedict's car drawing closer, it's stretched out shadow looming forwards like an ominous forewarning.
You hear the front door open, you leave your room to watch over the banister. Luz stands in the hallway, talking to her brother in whispering tones. Shadow falls on his face, you cannot make out what expressions fall upon him. All you can see is an unnatural stillness in him as his neck bends down to point his ear at Luz, not swaying or moving up and down with breath.
Suddenly, Ben storms out of the house, opening the front door with such ferocity it hits the wall, letting the sound echo all through the big empty unhomely house.
You race down the stairs to watch from the front porch beside Luz, where you can see him. she leaves a snarky comment, but you don't catch it. Blood is pumping in your ears, your nerves are shot by the sudden cool air from outside.
Benedict finds Jett readying himself to leave in the barn. He should've been long gone by now, only he couldn't get the ranch's car to start.
The whip of air rushes past jett's face as he staggers backwards to avoid the blow Benedict threw at him with a white-knuckled fist. Ben takes him by the collar, you can see then twist and turn in opposition to one another's actions, ensuing a brawl. They move out of sight from the porch, you hear yelling but no clear words.
Luz turns to you to make another remark, but you're gone, skirt hitched running and already halfway to the barn.
By the time you arrive the two men are on opposite sides of the barn, Benedict at the entrance Jett at the rear, leaving through the back entrance with a coat and bag slung over a shoulder.
"It's alright, he'll be gone now." Ben mumbles, wiping his knuckles on the white on his shirt.
You're out of breath, cheeks reddened from running. You look over Ben's shoulder, eyes wide.
Jett looks over his shoulder too, one last time, before melting into the blackness of the night.
You say nothing, or his efforts to conceal the truth would be in vain. Only, maybe you wanted that. Maybe you wanted Benedict to find out the truth, the whole truth and to blow up at you and kick you out too in a fit of rage so you could run away with Jett somewhere else. No, you held back, you watched him disappear into the darkness, as if he never existed in the first place. One rogue tear escapes your eye, you turn your head so Benedict won't see.
For weeks afterwards, your life becomes the same gloomy repetitiveness it was before. Before Jett and you ever began seeing each other.
Life became unbearably unsatisfactory, there was work to be done around the house sure, but with the maids assisting you chores were completed quickly, and large slots of free time emptied themselves into your weekly schedule.
You wandered through the mansion, like a ghost. You dressed up each day just to stay inside, gazed out the windows longingly in hopes of seeing Jett returning, as if you were a damsel in distress awaiting your knight in shining armour to return.
Only, he never did. Jett Rink never stepped foot on Texan soil ever again. Where ever he had ran off to, he had found it good enough that he didn't miss you enough to return.
Being of wealthy descent, you had the privilege of taking part in multiple hobbies in your youth; learning sports, languages, arts. But now was different, you didn't want to do anything, something fell over you like a heavy numb blanket. you didn't know what it was, but only that your lover had been taken away from you, nobly denying and protecting your name.
"But at what cost?" You said to yourself, almost every day. You wanted to slip away. Thinking back to that fateful night Jett looked over his shoulder at you, he had a wise sadness hanging off his face, forbidden longing strewn in the air that night.
If you could go back now, you'd follow him into the darkness. You'd follow him where ever he went, anywhere was better than here.
You'd leave now, only you'd be disgraced with no where to go, destined for vagabonding the red deserts of the South.
Oh Jett, i wish you were here.
The dark nights left even darker now. In the evenings as you saw your husband return home from the ranch each day through the large window in your bedroom, you stared down at the cars drawing closer to the house, and at the ground below.
The tan, dusty sand good for growing nothing. It felt like an oasis of life out here, such rare few things grew by their own without human intervention. Not even the wood this old house was made from was sourced locally. If everything for a hundred miles around disappeared; swallowed up by a black hole; it would return to it's natural origins. No more sprawling ranches that cut lines of fencing across terrain, or large creaking houses. You saw no greenery, you felt yourself dying slowly too, like a plant with no water slowly shrivelling up in a drought, foolishly waiting for a raincloud.
You looked at the ground, hypnotised by it's distance from the second story window.
Something dark brewed in your mind, an escape.
Benedict knew. He was oblivious previously, but now that Jett was gone you had become depressed.
Benedict loved you, and wanted you to love him, but you could not understand each other. You could not accept him for his traditional approach in life, he could not accept your stubborn love for another man. A part of you wanted to get over your affair and accept your role as housewife in this lonely home, but something in your body writhed for freedom. You couldn't pretend to be the perfect, content housewife anymore.
One night when you, Luz and Benedict were having dinner, Petra hands Benedict postcard.
The mumbling small talk between the siblings pauses, Benedict stops to read it.
"It's blank." He tosses it on the table, a confused frown chiselled into his brows.
A postcard with Oregon, USA, on the bottom of it. In a font written across the page, the words WISH YOU WERE HERE are written across a painted picture of lush green woodlands. There's a return address for some motel in Burns, a small quiet town near the Deschutes forest.
In a moment of deja vú, you remember Jett talking about how he wanted to see the North of the country, particularly Oregon. In stories he's heard and pictures kept in pockets, he's seen forests that stretched out for miles, bright blue rivers weaving through them with salmon and grizzly bears along the rocky shores.
"It's one of the last places in America we haven't destroyed yet." He told you, many nights ago.
"I want to see it before I die."
Now you're remembering the twinkle in his eyes, as if his soul was shining out of them. You remember the way he spoke, his recollections of stories and legends; how full of life he was. Lastly, you remember him promising you he'd never go alone, that he'd bring you along with him before he left for Oregon some day.
To Ms. Benedict, the first line of the address reads. Beside the address lines in the letter space, indeed nothing is written.
"You got family up in Oregon?" Benedict asks, returning to his meal as he questions you casually.
You look up, not answering him. A sparkle that hasn't been in your eyes since the day Jett left suddenly is suddenly blazing brightly.
The world is rising around you as you inhale, you're almost dizzy. He didn't forget you, not at all. Joy overcomes every ache and sadness within you in a rush; as if floodgates opened.
You had to get to Oregon. You'd pack after dinner and run away under the cover of night, buy a one way ticket and never look back.
"Not family..." you start,
"...but someone is waiting for me."
You can imagine Jett in Oregon, in the north of the country. You wonder how he's holding up in the cold, not that it's a cold state but that it's nowhere near as hot as Texas.
"I don't understand you, the card is blank. How do you know someone's waitin' on you?" Ben asks.
"Oh Ben," for the first time in a very long time, you smiled at him.
"You never did understand me."
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