#horse bridle made

[ofcowardiceandkings]

more i fink about things more i wanna go whole hog on Hyrulean horf stuff in the redux

[morningstarequestrian]

Hail, good Simizen! On this day, I present unto thee a medieval-inspired tack set, crafted for thy noble knights and ladies.

This Set Contains:

• Medieval Engraved Bridle ( 30 swatches)

• Medieval Engraved Bridle With Reins (30 swatches)

• Iberian Saddle (with stirrups, 30 swatches)

• Iberian Saddle V2 (no stirrups, 30 swatches)

• Iberian Saddle - Draft Fit (fitted to work with Walnuthill’s Draft Body Overlay, with stirrups, 30 swatches)

• Iberian Saddle V2- Draft Fit (fitted to work with Walnuthill’s Draft Body Overlay, no stirrups, 30 swatches)

*Notes: the reins are a edit of @objuct wonderful knight set! And only made possible thank’s to their very open T.O.U. You can get the set here

The horse Blankets shown in the pictures are by the lovely @flowermilksims (I think this one and the saddle are meant for each other💜) find them here  

and Zorela's Iberian Fur Pad found here

The body overlay by @walnuthillfarm can be found here

Let me know If You experience any issues.

Enjoy! <3

DOWNLOAD: Patreon | Google Drive

[vivwritesfics]

Horse Girl - LN4

High school sweethearts Lando and Y/N are very in love (she also happens to be Flo's best friend and they met through their yards) (any words you don't understand are probably just unimportant horsey terms dw about it) (also idk anything about flo's riding journey, so i made it mirror mine)

Lando Norris x reader

2.3K

"Flo," Y/N called as she appeared at the stable door. She had Gismo's bridle over her shoulder and her riding hat already on her head. "Think I borrow your martingale?"

Flo left her brush on her horses back and turned towards her friend. "I have conditions."

"Give them to me."

Flo held out her hand, checking things off on her fingers. "You clean it for me at the end of the week, you muck out for me tonight and we go on a hack."

Y/N let out a sigh. "I'm going out with Lando tonight," she said.

Being in a long distance relationship with an F1 driver wasn't easy. Y/N had to stay in England to take care of Gismo and Sooty while Lando was living in Monaco and travelling the world.

When Y/N could, she got somebody to look after the horses and spent a week with Lando in Monaco. When Lando could, he spent the week at Y/N's, visiting his family and watching her ride.

Y/N tried to spend as much time over the summer and winter breaks with him. But this year Y/N began competing Gismo. Lando travelled with her when he could during her competitions. He always had his camera with him, posting her on the jpg account.

Lando and Y/N had been friends for a bloody long time. When Flo started riding lessons, she was stuck behind a girl on a fat little pony that refused to do more than a walk. When their lesson activity had them riding side by side, Flo and Y/N became fast friends.

They went from a weekend lesson together to being at the yard every single day. They loaned the same horse, Y/N riding him for half of the week and Flo riding him for the other. Most of the time they'd be there on the same day, mucking out his stable together and cleaning his tack together. On Flo's day's to ride, Y/N was the one who sorted the jumps and picked up the shit.

When they were younger, when they'd spend all day at the stables, Y/N would sleep over at the Norris house. Flo lived closer to the yard so it just made sense.

Staying at the Norris house meant meeting Flo's big brother. Y/N had heard stories of him before, stories of his karting and his dreams of being in F1.

And then Y/N met Lando. He was the kind of boy who, when Y/N slept over, he wouldn't leave them alone. He was the annoying big brother that stopped by to make a comment on the film they were watching, steal some of their snacks and run off to play his PlayStation.

When they were teenagers, Y/N fifteen and Lando seventeen, things changed. He kept on with that whole annoying big brother image until he was around fifteen. And then he didn't care about teasing the girls - he was too busy winning in F3.

But at seventeen, he started to see Y/N a little differently. She was fifteen, almost sixteen when she watched him win around Silverstone. When he saw her afterwards, he saw her in a new light. Maybe it was that post win haze. But no, because the feelings didn't go away.

Lando waited two and a bit years before he made a move. He was in F2, then, waiting to take his place on the McLaren F1 team. Y/N and Flo were show jumping at the lower levels and Flo was Y/N's show groom for when she tried her hand at eventing.

Lando came up with every excuse in the book to join Y/N and Flo when they went eventing. He offered to drive the trailer for them, offered to groom and tack up Sooty for her. Of course, Lando had no idea what he was doing when it came to grooming and tacking up.

Flo was heavily judging her brother, but she let him come with them. He stood by the trailer, feeding Sooty mints while Y/N and Flo tacked up.

Before Lando entered F1, he knew he had to make his move. Y/N had agreed to help Flo with her horses for the night while she was off doing something unknown. It was November and Lando had just turned 19. It was now or never.

Lando made his way down to the stables. It was dark and freezing, the stables lit by floodlights. Y/N had mucked out Flo's horses and had moved onto hay. Her own horses hadn't yet been taken care of; she could deal with them once she was done with Flo's horses. Lando walked across the yard, trying to avoid getting mud on his shoes. "Y/N?" He called, looking from stable to stable.

Y/N emerged from a barn. She was in her black riding pants, mud splashed up the side. The mud disappeared under her coat and she wore a knitted beanie on her head. "Lando? What're you doing here?" She asked as she walked out of the barn with hay in her arms.

Lando let out a laugh when he saw the mud up her side. "Did you fall off or something?"

She let out a laugh as she threw the hay over the stable door. "Yeah, Sooty decided there was a gremlin hiding in the corner of the arena and freaked out," she answered as she bolted the stable door shut.

With Flo's horses done, Y/N started looking after her own. As she mucked out, Lando talked to her and gave Gismo attention. "So, McLaren, huh?" Y/N asked as she moved Gismo away from the stable door. "You excited?"

"You know it, baby!" Lando cheered. But his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he scratched at the back of his neck. "Are you gonna come to any of my races?"

"Yeah I'll go with Flo."

But that wasn't what Lando meant. He cleared his throat and rocked on his heels. "What if Flo doesn't go to any? Will you?"

Y/N stopped and put her broom against the stable wall. She crossed her arms over her coat and turned towards her best friends brother. "What are you trying to say, Lan?" Because there was clearly something he wasn't getting across.

Lan. He loved it. He loved when Y/N called him Lan. He somehow went even more red as he looked at her. "I want you to come to my races with me, whether Flo is there or not."

Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh holy shit, Lan. I'd love to." She looked back at Gismo. "But I can't. Not when I've got these guys."

"Let me take you on a date then, before I go."

That was five years ago. Now, everybody was waiting for the couple to get engaged.

They were in the process of trying to move in together, but that meant Y/N moving the horses with her. Trying to find a stables just outside of Monaco that wasn't over the top expensive seemed too be an impossible task. Lando was happy to pay any amount of money to have his girlfriend and the horses there with him.

But Y/N didn't want to do that. She didn't want to have to rely on Lando to pay for everything. She was going to make it to Monaco, to be there with him, on her own.

Until then they were stuck with the odd date night whenever Lando could come back to England. If Y/N could, she paid somebody to look after Sooty and Gismo while she went to Monaco or to the odd race.

"Is he meeting you here?" Asked Flo as they walked across the stables, towards where they kept their equipment.

Y/N nodded her head. "Should get here just before I'm done with Gismo," she answered. "Pretty good timing if you ask me."

Lando was an incredibly supportive boyfriend. He had to be, with Y/N supporting his Formula One career. Whenever Lando could he came to one of her shows. No matter if she was eventing or jumping or doing dressage, Lando was watching with his camera.

Flo let out a sigh as she passed the martingale to Y/N. "You know, it might actually be nice to see him," she said as she and Y/N made their way back over to the horse.

Y/N quickly got herself and Gismo ready. She led him out to the arena and mounted. She rode him around the arena, warming him up and sending him flying over jumps as she waited for her boyfriend to appear.

Boyfriend. It had been weird saying that at first. After he and Y/N had their first date Lando was whisked away into the world of Formula One. They called a lot in that time, but it was strange. Their dynamics had changed but they weren't together yet.

It was a while before they got to have a second date.

A month after the second they had their third. That was when Lando officially asked her to be his.

That was five years ago.

As soon as Lando turned up to the stables, he knew white trainers had been a mistake. Actually, bringing such an expensive car had been a mistake. But, he got out anyway, locked it, and walked to where he knew he would find his girlfriend.

Lando was in awe every time he watched her ride. He couldn't tear her eyes away as she sent Gismo flying over the jumps, throwing her hands forward to let his neck stretch.

Lando had sat on Gismo before. He was the calmer of the two horses, the only one Y/N trusted to take care of Lando.

When Y/N finished jumping and brought Gismo back down to a trot, Lando clapped. Once upon a time he had whistled for her, but Sooty had spooked and Y/N had fallen off. Lando hadn't done it since.

"Lan!" Y/N called as she steers Gismo towards him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," said Lando as Gismo put his head over the fence, searching him for treats. When he discovered Lando didn't have any, he resorted to getting attention instead. "Missed you as well, Gremlin."

Y/N took two minutes to cool Gismo down before she jumped off. She took him back to the stable and untacked him in record time, all while Lando watched. It was incredible watching her do the thing she loved, he realised. She must've felt the same way about him.

As soon as she was done, it was time for date night. Y/N finally managed to wrap her arms around Lando, holding him close. "You're gonna stink of horses," she said as Lando squeezed her even tighter.

"I don't care," he answered before he kissed her.

Keeping one arm around her waist, Lando walked her out to the car. Her boots were muddy on his cars interior, but Lando didn't care. She could have walked shit into his car and he wouldn't have cared.

"I brought that dress you like," Lando said. Before he'd gotten to the stables he'd stopped at Y/Ns apartment to get something for her to wear.

"You're the best, Lan," she said as she sorted the music.

I won't bore you with the details of their drive to their drive to the restaurant. Once they pulled up in the car park Y/N tried her best to get dressed in the not very spacious car, since their was no way she was getting in in her state. She combed her fingers through her hair, brushing out any hay.

"Goddamn," said Lando as she stepped out the car. Y/N slipped her hand into his and she walked in.

The restaurant was nice, rather fancy. The pair shared a candle-lit Italian dinner, with music playing softly in the background. Y/N listened eagerly as Lando spoke about his last race. "I really wish you were there, though," he muttered as he finished his dinner. "I can't wait for you to move to Monaco."

"I know, Lan. I can't wait either," she replied. They were making progress. Y/N had found a stables near enough by and it wasn't too pricy. She had a key to Lando's apartment, where she was staying for the weekend while he was away at another race.

As soon as they were finished eating, Lando asked for the bill. "No dessert?" Y/N asked with a frown. Lando loved his dessert, but today he was rushing.

"Nope," Lando answered as he paid. "My trainer would kill me."

As soon as he had paid, Lando escorted Y/N out of the restaurant. He walked her over to the car, stopping half way to do up his laces.

"Thanks for tonight, Lan," she said as she turned towards him.

But, when she did, Lando wasn't doing up his laces. He was down on one knew, an open ring box in his hand. Inside of the ring box was, well, a ring. It was simple, a band with a small stone, just the way Y/N liked it. "I know we haven't moved in together yet, but I really wanna marry you."

There was a moment where Y/N couldn't answer him. She was in complete and utter shock. The only talks of marriage had been tabloid speculation, no indicators from Lando himself. "Holy shit, Lan," she said, because that was all she could say.

It wasn't a question of whether Y/N wanted to marry him. Of course she did. She wanted that more than anything.

"Holy shit Lando Norris. Of course I'll marry you."

[walnuthillfarm]

Overrides, Eyelashes & More

A few months in the making!

Today, we're releasing our highly sought-after overrides - head, body, and hooves overrides for adult & elder horses only!

These are realistic overrides, so if you're more of a maxis-match player, these may not be your style.

Our overrides vs EA overrides:

To go along with these, we've got new body overlays and a head overlay!

And now that these are all released, we can finally drop our eyes and eyelash styles (plus a feathering option we made out of boredom).

This post contains..

Head Override, Body Override, and Hooves Override WalnutHill_HeadOverride, WalnutHill_BodyOverride, and WalnutHill_HoovesOverride Realistic and what our sliders will work best with! A refined head, some major leg improvements, and beautiful hooves (not like those box hooves EA gave us).

NEW WalnutHill_HeadOverride_v2 and WalnutHill_BodyOverride_v2 This version fixes issues with the overrides not fitting SchrodCat's bridles well, as well as some small tweaks to the body.

NEW WalnutHill_HeadOverrideV2 and WalnutHill_BodyOverrideV2 This version fixes issues with the overrides not fitting SchrodCat's bridles well, as well as some small tweaks to the body. We've also tweaked the area where the neck meets the head to be thicker! This version may mix and match with other overrides better.

Baroque Body Overlay, Draft Body Overlay, Early Pregnancy Overlay, Late Pregnancy Overlay, Underweight Overlay, and Overweight Body Overlay These were all made before we even knew of MorphMaker being updated, but they took some time and could still come in handy! Hair and equipment does not morph with these, so keep this in mind. All of these come in four slot options - horn, feathers, hat, and tail.

Round Croup Body Overlay, Sloped Croup Body Overlay, and Arabian Croup Body Overlay Some temporary croup options whilst we wait for MorphMaker to be fixed! These will not work while using other body overlays, so keep this in mind. These are currently only horn slot options, but feather slot options will be added in the future.

Face Fix For Sliders A quick fix for the extreme deformity caused by the Nose Placement Slider. It's not perfect but it does help! Technically, it is a head overlay. This is a horn option.

Realistic Horse Eyes 2 Pt. 2 New eye styles! Heterochromia included. Non-replacer eyes. 48 swatches.

Eyelashes v1 and v2 Shorter and longer styles of eyelashes made specifically for our body overrides! Both of these come in two slot options - horn and feathers. 20 swatches each.

Spiked Feathers A new feathering option with just a little spike of hair! Perfect for those light Irish Draughts.

Foal overrides and eyelashes to come soon! We'll be making a post shortly detailing our CC plans over the Summer. <3

Enjoy!

Updated: 17/05/2024 - fixed an issue with the v1 eyelashes in the horn slot not working.

Updated: 17/05/2024 - feather slot options added for the Arabian Croup, Round Croup, and Sloped Croup Body Overlays.

Updated: 35/05/2024 - HeadOverride_v2, BodyOverride_v2, HeadOverrideV2, BodyOverrideV2 added.

Notes:

Please remember to remove any overrides you have in your Mods folder before installing ours! You'll know if you have any laying around if the head and top of the neck and the bottom of the legs and the hooves don't match up well.

Our body overlays are made for our overrides - you can use them with other overrides, but they will not line up correctly.

You cannot use our croup body overlays with our other body overlays.

Our old body overlays will not line up correctly with these overrides.

Our eyelashes are made for our overrides - you can use them with other overrides, but they will not line up correctly. They do morph with our sliders, however.

There may be issues with our sliders and the two new versions of our head and body override.

The body overlays will not fit well with the WalnutHill_HeadOverrideV2 and WalnutHill_BodyOverrideV2. We will not be rushing to create new versions that are compatible.

Download - Patreon

P.S. If you're going to break my TOU by posting these files directly in your Discord server, please at least link my Tumblr or Patreon alongside it! It helps others keep up with my downloads. <3

[milagro-24]

Because we all offend many times. If anyone does not offend in word, he is a perfect man, also capable of restraining the whole body. Behold, we put bridles in the horses' mouths so that they obey us, and thus direct their entire body. Look also at the ships; Although so large, and carried by impetuous winds, they are governed with a very small rudder by wherever the one who governs them wants. So also the tongue is a small member, but it boasts of great things. Behold, how great a forest a small fire kindles! And the tongue is a fire, a world of evil. The tongue is placed between our members, and defiles the whole body, and inflames the wheel of creation, and itself is inflamed by hell. Because every nature of beasts, and of birds, and of serpents, and of beings of the sea, is tamed and has been tamed by human nature; but no man can tame the tongue, which is an evil that cannot be restrained, full of deadly poison. With it we bless God and Father, and with it we curse men, who are made in the likeness of God.

James 3:2-9

[buckarooranch]

Giddy up! 🤠

Today marks the launch of our Western Show Set, a project that's been in the making for quite some time with its fair share of highs and lows. We're absolutely thrilled to finally unveil this collection! ☺🎉 It includes a brand-new Show Saddle, Bridle, and Western Pad. The Saddle and Bridle are available in six different swatches, while the Pad offers eight variations. 🎨

Now, you're all set to mount up and step into the spotlight! With this tack set, you'll fit right in. For the next four weeks, it will be available exclusively to our cherished patrons before becoming accessible to the public for everyone to enjoy! 😃

We eagerly anticipate seeing your competition snapshots, so don't hesitate to tag us. Likes, shares, and reblogs are warmly welcomed and greatly appreciated. ❤

Details:

-6 custom Show saddles & bridles, and 8 different Western pads.

-You can download the set separately.

-Don't reupload or claim as your own

-The Saddle, Bridle and Saddlepad are for elder/adult horses.

This set requires the Horse Ranch DLC.

🌻 ~ Howdy

(The in-game pictures have a Depth of Field to blur the background, poses were made by us besides pic. 1 & 3)

Pictures of some of the possible sets:

Patreon (Free!)

[ghouljams]

Imagining cowboy!Konig and his darling running into each other on a trial, only darling’s mare has gone lame so they have to ride back together on Konig’s horse to keep any weight off the mare. 🥺👉👈

You think your filly might actually hate you. She's so sweet when she wants to be, but most of the time she is actively working to make your life harder. You were having a wonderful time on the little trail behind your pasture, enjoying the nice weather and your new life. She was also having a wonderful time stepping on a snake.

You barely managed to stay on her as she bucked, swinging off when you got her stable for long enough. When you pulled the upset black and green noodle off of her she gave you the biggest saddest eyes you'd ever seen and limped like she was going to die. As much as you hate her, you feel your heart clench, the prospect of losing your only friend in this place absolutely devastating.

You do your best to calm her down and grab her bridle to lead her back to the pasture. Her limp has to be at least 80% drama as you lead her down the trail, it's a long walk back and you are working your way up to some pretty major tears.

Hoofbeats echo down the trail behind you as you hastily scrub the tears out of your eyes. Good, great, just what you need, an audience to your misery. The horse, and its rider, pull to a stop behind you.

"Are you alright Fraulein?" The rider asks, voice soft and- oh no. Oh noooo. No it's the guy from next door. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You scrub your face again just to be sure you're really not teary eyed and turn to look at him.

His brows are drawn together in concern, a black bandana held over the lower half of his face with one hand as he holds his horse's reigns with the other. You really have to tip your head back to look at him sitting on that draft horse.

"I'm alright, um, Honey stepped on a snake," you tell him, voice tight to keep the wobble out of it. His concern only seems to grow, leaning to give his horse some command before hopping off. He's quick to tie his bandana in place as he walks closer to you.

"What sort of snake?" He asks, crouching next to your filly's lame leg. You frown as you think.

"Black, with green stripes, I think."

"Ah," his shoulders shake a little, when he looks up at you there's laughter in his eyes, "nothing to worry about then, just a garter snake." He stands and you feel your heart swell.

"Really?" You ask, watching him click his tongue to summon his horse closer.

"Yes really, she'll be fine." His hands close over your hips and you scramble to settle your hands on his shoulders as he lifts you into his horse's sadle. You stare down at him and his smiles up at you. At least, you think he's smiling, you can see the way his cheeks make his eyes squint, the sparkle in the blue of his iris. "Better to stay off her until she gets past the dramatics," he tells you and you nod, because you don't actually think you can get off this horse. Your legs actually sort of hurt stretched over the sadle like they are.

König hooks a lead to her from his own pack and fixes up a little horse train, with Honey still looking sad and sorry as she's tied to his giant colt. You half think König is going to walk until he hooks his foot in a stirrup and hops up behind you.

You freeze, holding onto the horn of the saddle as he reaches around you to take the reigns. You are not prepared for the way his hips slot behind yours, and slide with the rhythm of the horse's movement.

"Sorry," he tells you, leaning to speak in your ear, "it's a long walk back, just bear with it." You suppress a shiver, trying to keep still so you don't seem too eager to feel him press against you. König's hips grind against you like you're made for it, a toy he picked up to keep on his sadle. You're reminded of how easy it was for him to pick you up, how every time he does it feels like you must weigh nothing to him.

His thighs bracket yours, pressing them close to the horse, keeping you held in the seat the same way his arms are. Boxing you in so all you can do is hold onto the horn and try to keep some distance between you. Either König isn't having it or you're worse at this than you thought because it feels like you're almost in his lap as you both ride. Ignoring the way you can feel him pressing hard against your ass. Maybe you grind back against him a little just to feel how big he is, but who's to say that wasn't just the movement of the horse?

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part One: Arrival

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader, NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You are married to the man in charge of the Manhattan Project himself, Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, and it's your first day (and night) at Los Alamos where tension and unspoken worry is getting high, but he finds time to show you how love can be an oasis in what seems like a rather barren land.

Word Count: ~7, 213

Warnings: Age gap (reader is mid-20s and he is almost 40, and they have been married for a couple years), period stereotypical gender roles (maybe sexism?), unprotected + oral sex, mention of miscarriage, and strong hints at infidelity

Disclaimer: Obviously NOT completely historically or scientifically accurate to real life and is inspired by the film with Cillian Murphy's portrayal of Oppenheimer. There are definitely mentions of Katherine and Jean Tatlock as lovers in this, but he does not have any children with Kitty and is not physically with either of them presently. I also want to clarify that this (while researched) is still just my interpretation with AU elements added in, and it isn't supposed to be in total support and reflection of the real man's life/personality. Scroll away and DNI if you are uncomfortable or take issue with this story; it is primarily for entertainment purposes only and it is just fantasy/fiction!

April 1943

The ride en route to the secluded destination christened as "Los Alamos" was long, hot, and bumpy through the New Mexico desert on a single primitive dirt road with the sun beating down on the windshield, glaring into your eyes and reflecting off the expensive dainty golden watch wrapped around your wrist that had been last year's anniversary present, and the jostling motion of the car made your breasts jiggle up and down slightly, reminding you that you'd been in such a hurry to leave with Robert this morning you'd regrettably forgone putting on a bra. He glanced over to you now, his porkpie hat shadowing the serious and contemplative expression that he had been wearing as a regular look for weeks now... Finally this plan was coming to fruition, but at what cost? It was the government's money and the scientists who were on the line. Robert let you know more details than most out of his non-physics inner circle because he trusted you to keep your lips sealed, but he never gave specifics about what exactly the coined Manhattan Project, or Project Y, was for in terms of a mission yet because it was national security level secret, however it didn't take a genius to figure out it was incredibly important and the development of something dangerous... Too dangerous to keep in a campus laboratory at Berkeley.

As the car approached the main gate and passed by the checkpoint, you realized just now fairly remote this barbed-wire location was and it made a small sinkhole crater in your stomach. But Robert knew this land from his youth and you partly did too, for he owned ranchland here and you both had spent many hours in the last couple years roaming on horseback and on foot into the twilight hours of the day, feeling the chill of the evening breeze and the rustle of shrubbery as the sun dipped down below the horizon and plum light bathed the landscape, bouncing off the backdrop of mountains and reaching deep into the canyons. You recalled fondly one time in particular during the early stages of being courted by him... It was technically only the second date and he had mistakenly trusted you with a horse, even though you were hardly an experienced rider, and of course it had gone ballistic and attempted to buck you off as you held on for dear life to the stiff dark brown leather saddle.

"Woah... Woah! Easy, easy," Robert had called out, grabbing a hold of the bridle and patting the stallion on the neck as you gasped and he kicked his hooves, thrashing the dirt and missing Robert's cowboy boots by inches.

"This one can be a bit rowdy, sometimes the wild never quite gets bred out, and he's not used to you," he explained simply over your panicked cries as he kept patting and verbally calming the animal down.

"But what did I do wrong? I swear, he dislikes me tremendously!" you exclaimed in shock and Robert only shook his head.

"Then he has very poor taste in women if he rejects you," he had joked and you went sliding off the horse's back to where Robert caught you, easing you to the ground gently.

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes alight with a mischievous concern, but you merely brushed your pants off and smoothed your blouse, shaking the experience off.

"Of course I am. Now are we riding or not?"

He smiled at your confidence, but had hoisted you up onto his horse instead, straddling you from behind so you were facing front and clutching onto the reins. His arms loped around your waist and the horse began to trot, bouncing both you and him in a steady up and down motion, and you flicked the reins, causing the horse to take off into the expansive landscape and Robert let out a joyous whoop as the pace transitioned into a gregarious cantering gallop and the wind whipped your hair around like a battered Old Glory flag in a storm.

"This is too fast!" you had yelled out, but he only laughed, tightening his hold into a squeeze around you and spoke into your ear with a low murmur which instinctively made the goosebumps flare up on your neck.

"I wouldn't let you go even if that horse went mad and flew us off the ground over into a ravine to our deaths."

A little more than six months later after that frivolous adventure, he had dropped to his knee in that very desert and proposed to you, a diamond engagement ring encased in a black box in his palms and you were startled, taken aback at the promptness and faintly aware he was actively seeing at least one other woman at the time, but he had claimed he called it off with her a week ago.

You had cautiously accepted, knowing he was far from a wholesome man, but he was certainly one in a billion and you had unapologetically been with him ever since, even though some friends and extended relatives had openly judged, thinking you were only climbing up a social status ladder by doing so, and a couple of your more left-leaning girlfriends thought you were foolish to already settle for a man at your young age, but you truly loved him. Romance was rather odd; so rushed it could be and yet you felt comfortable around him as if you had known each other for life; soulmates, perhaps, if there ever was such a notion.

The wedding ceremony had been lavish enough to make you feel special, but it had been a more low-key event with only a small group of the closest friends and family in attendance, for he did not want much pomp and circumstance and you had spent the honeymoon at his secluded New Mexico ranch property, bizarrely a sort of prelude to where you both were ending up now. The phone hadn't stopped ringing for the past few weeks and since this work was taking up presidency, it was truth to be told that you hadn't really had time for each other and had been distant these past couple months as he diverted all his focus and intellect to the government and you hoped that after all this preparation, everything would settle somewhat now that he was at the ground level site. You felt trepidation but also excitement because this venture felt relevant and Robert was in his element with the company of like minded individuals all working towards a common goal. His vocation in teaching what he already knew of upper level physics had been boring him lately and he had told you multiple times he was haunted by the pressing need to be essential to the war effort outside of the confines of a classroom; he and his students had to make a real impact and change to the world, to this damned war. And if Robert wasn't the most ambitious, motivated, self-driven intelligent human being you'd ever met, then you'd be stumped to know who was right for the job; he could be dangerously dogged and was as loyal to this country as roots were to their corresponding corn stalks.

And now, starting today, he was the one man scientific director, a ruler really, of this militarized oasis in the middle of, well, nowhere.

Fractions of the place were still in progress, as evident by the trucks and the hammering with the occasional man lumbering past hauling construction boards on his shoulders. The Oppenheimers were still early in arrival, but everyone else on the project was supposed to be settled in by the end of the week. The house you and your husband were to live at was much better off than the cookie-cutter houses hastily put up suburban style along the man-made streets and it was tucked furthest away from the epicenter of town; a large spacious log and stone cabin (that had been formerly a boys' school) ranch style home surrounded by pine trees and shrubs along with a decent yard with that seemed ripe for cultivating a garden, and yet the home was modest and not overly luxurious; this was no vacation.

"The kitchen isn't finished?" you asked in surprise at once upon entry inside and Robert sighed, knowing you how much you had a penchant for cooking and he also knew that hosting gatherings here was going to be essential.

"I'll make sure they get it complete by the end of the week," he assured, resting a hand on the small of your back as you dropped down the luggage on the floor.

"Well, it is rather nice otherwise," you admitted, turning to him and smiling, but he couldn't quite return the gesture.

"Robert, what's the matter?" You reached to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch before lifting up his own hand and placing it atop the one plastered to his face.

"I'm frankly worried how this is all going to work, how soon we can accomplish what we need to do. The death toll in Germany grows by the day, it may already be too late and..."

You placed a hand to his lips, shushing him with sadness.

"Please, shh, I'll have none of that talk when we just arrived in our new house. We are here now and that is the most important first step that matters towards any kind of accomplishment to your saving the world from this hellish war."

"I need to go do some oversight on the operations in town and at the laboratory," he announced abruptly, stepping back from your touch and picking up his briefcase as you nodded, moving with him to the front door.

"I'll see you tonight then. I think I'll make deviled chicken with a creamy coleslaw."

"I'm sure it will be delicious." He gave a tight smile and it was a somewhat ironic statement coming from the man who ate less than a thousand calories a day. That was one frustrating aspect about him that you had discovered when you had moved in with him back in California and realized he never had regular meals, and lately drinks and cigarettes were his main fuel. You hoped one of these days your passion for food would finally rub off on his aversion, but it probably wouldn't happen here with the increased supply rationing.

He disappeared out the door with his hat and you stood for awhile, taking in this new environment inside the main part of the house with its interesting architecture of high beamed ceilings and picture windows that allowed ample amounts of natural light at almost all hours. You spent most of the day unpacking and organizing, briefly going out to greet and visit with the other wives of top scientists, some you already knew, but others you had not met until today and you noticed that one of those you weren't familiar with was visibly pregnant... She was even younger than you and seeing her led you to wonder how quickly this little manufactured desert town was going to see a population boom in the next few years. Robert had brought up the concept of having children with you on more than one occasion, since you had already gone through one miscarriage (only in your first trimester and you never knew the sex of it, the doctor told you it could have been worse if you had carried to full term and lost the infant at birth, but it was still a gutting loss... Although you knew Robert was privately relieved, especially now since his work would likely leave no room in his heart to father an innocent, demanding child and all the burden would go to you alone) and there was the fact of possible infertility. The hardship of procreation probably ran in the family... Your mother had also miscarried, then had your premature brother who caught polio at two years old and perished weeks later, and then she herself had died during your own childbirth, leaving your father devastated and alone to care for you. You had a complicated, strained relationship early on with him and you wondered perhaps Freud was loosely right about the Oedipus complex since you always had such strong attractions to older men... but at least your father always tried to give you the best possible life he had with his wealth, which led you to moving out from your childhood home in New York across the country to pursue attending college in California in the field of psychology and medicine. You had been in the process of getting a degree in nursing, at least until Robert altered your life by his own ambitions and you had been forced to drop your studies temporarily to move out here with him, but you planned to be studying some by correspondence if the government allowed and also to be able to help out in the small hospital on site for an occupation.

To trim the excess fat off a long story short, it had been a bizarre fluke that you met and promptly fell in love with Robert... you were introduced on campus by friends who also knew Jean Tatlock, a budding psychiatrist and proudly Communist, and he had happened to take a bright shine to you. You considered him unattainable at first, a very well respected brilliant physics teacher with more life experience than you could have dreamed of... He was otherworldly at times, yet found grounding earth in your presence, but it would mystify you what exactly he found so desirable in you. You were as lovely as any other woman your age and smart, but you never thought of yourself as outstandingly intelligent when compared to the people he taught in academia, and not absolutely drop dead gorgeous in terms of prize worthy beauty. Perhaps the attraction, like Robert's scientific passion, was on a molecular scale and only bonded by invisible atoms making the illusion of being a solid relationship. Maybe it was as basic as the fact that you two were mutually compatible with each other and respectable of any differences, unlike his other fiery messy relationships with Jean and Katherine. Would you having a baby split that all apart? Personally, you weren't sure you were ready for any offspring yet and to be thrown into motherhood when you were still navigating having a successful marriage and you highly doubted "The Hill" (as the residents here were calling it) would be a healthy environment for children to thrive in, despite the efforts for a school and daycare, seeing that there were armed uniforms milling about all hours of the day and silent stress was already pervasive in every look, cough, and casual conversation you noticed through passing by. And it was only day one of, as Robert predicated, two to three years of hard work swathed in isolated secrecy.

As daylight began to fade fast and inevitably hand itself over to the darkness, you went back to the house to fry up the chicken. The stove was effective, although one burner seemed a little on the fritz, but half of the cabinetry was unfinished and the counter space was minimal.

Laying out the cream-colored napkins and the finest china you had brought packed securely in a box, you delicately set the table. Despite not having a birth mother to guide you through womanhood, you took to home keeping fairly well and religiously read the magazines, believing being married to an upper class man meant all these details and roles. But privately you also felt the crushing pressure and caught yourself wondering if you were immature to be in this mold. Robert never told you otherwise though and he would theoretically be the last man to stamp out a woman's sense of inner individuality, but you couldn't ignore the fact you, while willingly, still had to sideline your educational and career priorities to come support and live here with your husband. But it didn't matter too much, for you knew in your heart you could follow this man to the ends of the earth if you so desired.

For good ambient measure, you lit two pillar candles in the center of the tablecloth and just as you laid the food on a plate, you heard the front door crack open and the soft clomping of shoes.

Robert would never be the 'Honey, I'm home!' type of husband, yet he always managed to make an entrance regardless, especially now. His slender frame leaned into the doorway, hands crumpling his hat in front of his crotch and the candlelight flashed harrowing ghoulish shadows across his sharp cheekbones and dull pinkish lips.

"Well, what do you think?" you proposed, gesturing to the table spread when he didn't speak. He only gazed at your feminine features, his eyes full of desire that wasn't for the dinner you made, and when his mouth finally parted, he spoke in a husky voice, slowly coming closer and abandoning his hat to a chair, closing in on you.

"I'm sure it is very palatable, but I fear my hunger cannot be fulfilled by only earthly consumption," he confessed, ducking to kiss your cheek and moving his hands up to your neck, caressing your nape and moving his mouth to your lips, but you gently pushed him away, pressing into the fabric of his gray suit jacket.

"We should wait until after dinner," you told him earnestly, knowing what he wanted instead.

"Dessert, then?" he murmured, coming close again despite your light physical resistance and thumbing your bottom lip. You smiled and his arm snaked under your skirt and between your thighs, hand crawling upward to your panties and you breathed in, changing your mind.

"Maybe I can wait to eat after all."

His breath caught, a single finger inches from hitting your covered vaginal area, before he removed his teasing hand and pulled back, gripping your shoulders with conviction.

"Eat. You deserve it and you worked hard on preparing it, I can observe."

He bent down, gentlemanly drawing out a chair for you to sit down in, which you did, letting his hands linger at the neckline of your blouse before he walked around to the other side of the small round table and took a seat, rummaging out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and striking it up with his lighter, the smoke wafting in wispy trails around his head. You took a careful first bite, relishing in the flavor and spices (paprika in particular) as he sat there across from you, relaxing back in his chair and taking a drag on the cigarette, puffing out a sigh. You smirked, swallowing a forkful as he kept his gaze steady on you.

"You're making me self conscious, just sitting there surveying my appetite," you told him and he grinned, fiddling with the cigarette.

"I enjoy watching you eat. You are the very essence of life I see lacking in so much of this world."

You blushed in the warm glow of the candlelight, remaining humble.

"That is quite a compliment I don't know if I'm quite worthy of."

"You are, no jury would contradict me." He nodded sincerely as he smoked and you ate in silence for a few minutes before he then finally gave his cigarette a rest and poked at his food, politely taking a few bites of hot chicken and chewing at a snail's pace.

"How did today go?" you tentatively asked, finishing off your own chicken and moving to the rich, crunchy coleslaw.

"We will be making progress. Although I will always say, that General Groves is the most obstinate man with the exact deposition one would expect from a bulldog," he answered with a touch of bitter amusement.

"Should you be saying that? They're... not listening, are they?" you asked in a hushed paranoid voice, glancing around the room and knowing that the phone lines were tapped for sure, but you weren't certain they would go as far to place bugging devices hidden in the house.

"Relax, I could say much worse," Robert admitted nonchalantly with a harmless shrug and you allowed yourself a chuckle, mentally picturing a bulldog in a General's uniform. You took a bite of cabbage, changing the conversation to your side of social contacts in this limited town.

"I met with our neighbors and the other ladies today. They seem cordial and we have already exchanged pleasantries and plans for a party next weekend. I also offered to babysit one mother's two rambunctious little boys and spoke to the doctor at the medical facility about assistance there."

Robert nodded, gesturing with his empty fork.

"Keeping busy I see, but I'll have to arrange to let you in the office sometime instead of spending your days cooped up here and at the neighbors. I missed you and your insight already today."

"But you know I am not privy to everything you and your scientists are doing here..." you started to protest before he cut you off.

"I'm well aware, but I doubt a visit to my own office will cause a security uproar. You are my wife, Y/N. The reason most of the scientists came to Los Alamos in the first place was not solely the work, but because they could bring their wives, their families. We do our best work with moral and... sexual support." He raised his eyebrows and you felt a tingle run through you, a yearning for exactly what he was suggesting, but you had to finish the meal first.

Once you cleared most of your plate, he surprised you by taking the dishes and quickly rinsing the plates in the sink before making and pouring out his signature martinis. You knew Robert must be silently stressed however, for he only took one sip of his drink before he moved outside under the roof awning with his tobacco pipe, settling down on a folding chair and gazing out at the landscape and listening to the low mumble of military personnel mingling about on patrol as though this were a prison (which it was).

You joined him with a cigarette a few minutes later (you had never smoked a single cigarette until you married Robert and unconsciously adopted the habit, but you weren't much of a smoker when it made you cough, yet you kind of enjoyed the nicotine having that convenient effect of temporarily soothing your nerves) and positioned yourself down next to him, letting the cigarette dangle from your lips while folding your hands neatly on your knees.

His eyelids were appearing heavy and his head drooped, chin tucking down. You gave him a bumping nudge and he looked over at you, teeth clamped down on his pipe.

"Tired?" you wondered and he gave a noncommittal grunt, fixing his eyes back straight ahead. You noticed how still he was - calm - and it was a welcome change from the past few weeks where he had been wound up, constantly on the phone at one point or another and gone for many hours in meetings. But now that nearly everyone was all here, it was almost too tranquil... giving the illusion of calm before potential chaos.

"Oppie!" a young man's voice suddenly called out and he came jogging into view on the rock slabbed pathway, halting slightly when he saw you.

"Oh, good evening Ma'am," he greeted courteously with a squinted smile. You smiled in turn, nodding, and he focused to Robert, who gave a tilt of his pipe in acknowledgement and stood up stiffly.

"Any news I should know about, Feynman?"

The man paused, glancing to you warily.

"Is it about the nature of our work?" Robert asked sharply and Feynman shook his head.

"No, sir, it is not pertaining to that."

"Well, whatever it is you can say in front of my wife and I then."

"It's just a communicative matter. There was a phone call from a young woman asking for you earlier that was flagged in the office for personal matters concerning security. Groves is in a fit and I was to inform you tomorrow, but I thought I'd give fair warning and-"

"Then I will address it tomorrow," Robert interrupted and without further word, took your arm and marched you back inside the house. You shook off his touch and shut the door hard, spinning to address him.

"What the hell was that about?"

He closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his forehead while exhaling.

"There are intimate ghosts that continue to haunt me," he answered cryptically, taking refuge in the lounge and sipping his martini, but you had a hunch however who was the "ghost" because you knew her and you pointed a finger sternly at him.

"This is about Jean, isn't it? How does she even know to contact this location? And I thought you were all done with her, as you are with that Katherine!"

"I am, I swear to it. But she is different than any other woman I have been with before you, though. She can be... unstable and she may need to hear from me."

"She just wants your sex, that's all!"

"It's more complicated than that."

"You had nights with her while you were having nights with me during courting, I heard about it from our friends. It was still the sex that was the driving factor that she desired from you."

He looked down, unable to deny that entirely and you backed away, shaking your head.

"I can't believe this, the first day here and you can't shake those Communist ties trailing us."

"May I remind you that you considered fully joining once upon a time in the not so distant past? We met at such a social function, remember?"

You bit your lip and refused to meet his wide eyes staring a hole into you, for this was very well true.

"I did, but I overcame it. It's ridiculous to devote one's energy to an ideology and not to concrete, practical solutions. I was never devoted and absolutely do not consider myself a member. I never was."

This made Robert scowl, setting his glass down with a clink.

"It is my opinion that you should be free to choose your dogmas, if you want any at all that is. Belief is voluntary, but it shouldn't be a crime; we all deserve our wiggle room."

"Is that what she told you too?"

He licked his lips, stepping close so you were involuntarily arrested by his blue eyes boring into yours and his hand slid up your arm, finding your shoulder and the bra strap peeking out from the neckline of the blouse.

"I see you put one on," he muttered and you blinked, almost forgetting about that little detail and refusing to be seduced by his perceptivity.

"Yes, I did. My breasts are still sore from that uncomfortable car ride."

"It's a shame they are so contained now," he whispered, beginning to undo the buttons on the blouse and push his fingers into the crevice between your breasts, but you weren't quite having it after the unresolved discussion and the way he had been moments before.

"We are going to do this now? After what I just accused? And besides, I thought you were too preoccupied and planning to sit out there half the night smoking away by your lonesome while I go to bed."

"You make nights worth bearing awake, especially tonight." He shifted, groping at your breasts and you stumbled back into the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. He put a finger to his lips conspiratorially and hugged your body with his own, speaking discreetly.

"We should be quiet to not disturb any nearby neighbors."

"They can't hear us and besides, I'm sick of piping down," you whined, remembering the date nights out in the desert where he'd lay out a picnic blanket and fuck you right then and there with the horses grazing several feet away and the canopy of stars winking overhead. You'd make as much noise as merited, probably confusing the yipping coyotes far off in the distance.

"I think we can try to control our auditory impulses for one night," Robert whispered, hands going to your waist and tugging at your skirt.

"The bedroom," you gasped, rushing away from him and down the narrow hallway, twisting around as he chased you with a huff.

"Where is it?" you asked anxiously, opening a couple doors and unfamiliar to this section of the house in the minimal lighting, when he suddenly pushed you from behind into an empty room with a single large king bed.

"Only the best for us," he told you and you fell forwards onto it, kicking your heels off and quickly flipping around to your back as he loosened his tie, casting it off to the floor and unbuttoning his white shirt as you sat up, reaching needily for his belt buckle and he leaned over onto you now shirtless and when he met your lips in a frantic kiss, you then noticed the prudent stench of sweat on his skin that was disrupting his usual familiar smoky flavor mixed with cologne and aftershave.

"Wait," you ordered, pressing a hand up on his collarbone.

"What is it?" he implored worriedly, searching your expression for the solution.

"Bath, you should bathe. It's been a few days and this heat isn't helping. Hasn't anyone told you that you reek like a dog?"

He groaned mournfully, leaning back and unfastening the belt, tossing it to the floor with a clunk of metal.

"You won't let me have you until I do?" he asked sadly, but you had an idea.

"What if I join you?"

His eyes sparked at this notion and you moved off the bed, finding the bathroom across the hall. This house was one of only a few equipped with tubs instead of showers; they didn't call this street "Bathtub Row" for nothing.

Robert finished undressing in front of you, tugging down his trousers and boxers, springing forth an already ready penis.

"You're going to make me work for it tonight, aren't you?" he asked as he stepped into the large basin, turning on the faucet and letting out a gasp when a strong stream of water blasted onto his bare feet.

"J-Jesus Christ, it's freezing!" he exclaimed loudly with a sputter and frantically slamming a hand on the knob as you laughed from your spot by the sink, taking out your earrings and slipping off your small wristwatch.

"Get in, I was warned about the water supply around here possibly being fickle, even for us," he commanded as you finagled your skirt and blouse off with your bra and panties discarded to the bathroom floor before taking a leg over the tub and stepping in to sit down across from him, letting the tub fill up one third of the way as a sitz bath before awkwardly reaching around him to grab the bar of ivory soap from the dish and began to rub into his back with it.

"I should've put in a request for an even larger bath," he complained as you scrunched up your legs against his and scrubbed dutifully into the folds of his skin.

"It'll do fine, darling."

He took the soap and you both took turns lathering each other up, making frothy circles with the creamy soap and rinsing, the water streaming down into the tub again, flooding both yours and his soapy complexion, washing it all off down the drain before having it fill up again, this time three quarters of the way. The water now pleasantly lukewarm, Robert contorted his body to submerge his head under the waterline and he came up with a loud splash, his wiry dark hair flattening to a wet mess on his forehead as your own dampened and you watched the droplets of water collect on his somewhat pallid skin. He scooted closer, entangling legs, and couldn't resist a quick dart of a finger down to your vagina and you whimpered as he touched your clitoris, inserting into you and making you arch your back and buck your hips when he inserted another finger, exploring around your wet velvety walls.

"God, Robert..." you moaned, digging your nails into the grooves of his skin and up to his head, feeling the cropped soaked scalp and neck. He suddenly lightly shoved you against the side of the tub, pressing his mouth to yours and naturally winding his tongue in, kissing you passionately until the water temperature grew too cold and you shivered, glued to his body and burying your face into his wet shoulder.

"That was merely the first act, sweetheart," he whispered and you smiled, leaning back a few inches so he could get up and step out onto the bath mat, taking your hand as he did so to pull you up and guide you out. Robert grabbed a large towel from the rack and wound it around the both of you, letting his genitals press up against yours and you both stood there for a while, listening to the steady drip-drop-drip-drop-drip-drop of falling water to the flooring.

"I'm surprised you've held off this long," you murmured, feeling his rising erection in between your thighs.

"I truly can't wait any longer," he admitted urgently and the towel dropped with a flump to the floor, and with bodies still slick with water, you and him exited the bathroom to fumble to the bedroom and the blue light from the window illuminated the sheets, the ideal love making spot. He let you collapse on your back and easily came down on top, gripping the back of your neck and already plunging in to align, but you squirmed in dissatisfaction.

"So soon?" you whined, wanting to play with and taste him first, but he was antsy to get to the pinnacle.

"Your virtuous patience should be framed and put on the walls of this house, along with your divine beauty," he whispered, head moving down to your breasts and you dug your fingers into his bare back, running along the bones of his more pronounced spine.

"C'mon, Oppie, let's do this the fun way... Give it to me," you begged and he cringed slightly, but rolled over onto his side and you immediately found his stiff penis with your hands, clenching around it firmly and stroking. He moaned softly and it flexed in your grasp... He could be a decent size when engaged, which was impressive for his underweight body.

"But don't you dare let me go without seeding you inside," he warned as though you had all the control.

"That's the plan."

Wordlessly, you positioned yourself down to the head of his cock and licked off his pre-cum, the recognizable taste milky on your tongue and you sucked, bringing it halfway in and fondling his balls lovingly in the meantime. He was breathing heavily and you didn't linger long at his member however because you could tell he was getting very close and neither you nor him wanted him to release anywhere other than the intended internal target. Pulling out and licking your lips, you repositioned your body on top of his and sank down flat to his chest, and he thrusted his hips up to meet you, heaving in with a grunt. You winced at the initial entry; you were always so sensitive down there (especially since the miscarriage), and he steadily kept at it, probing in further without being too rough.

"Fuck..." you breathed with a cry and he came forward to smooch your cheek as you mounted your hands on his shoulders and he pumped in and out, shaking the entire bed.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my love," he breathed, keeping an intense gaze trained on you.

"Robert..." you groaned, letting him push as far as he could go until the pleasure was overloading and you felt his hot wet spurt of cum hit, eliciting a long moan from him, his slender frame shuddering beneath you. He closed his eyes and you kept a firm clench around his shaft, not ready to have him pull out yet. Gasping, you began rocking back and forth with ecstasy, your insides stretched to their limit and he seemed to know you were struggling to hold him.

"I'm coming out," he muttered and gently pulled back wetly so he wasn't balls deep in you anymore and then you repositioned to lightly ride him, which was your favorite position, and you bounced up and down on his upright full cock, orgasming a few more times as he watched your euphoria in rapture, so proud he alone could make you like this over and over until you were out of air and exhausted, collapsing to the side of the bed and feeling the sheets very damp with bodily juices.

Robert spooned you from behind, arms draped over to dangle his fingers on your swollen nipples and you matched his breathing in rhythm. Every time was somehow better than the last... Sex with him was as natural as breathing and you appreciated the consistent chemistry that you worried would have faded after a couple years of marriage due to what you'd heard about stress and boredom destroying a couple's sex drive, but Robert was not a boring person in the least sense of the term.

"We should do this every night," you offered hopefully and he chuckled.

"And make me the most lucky, tired man in this whole community? I'd be up for that, although it'll be a wonder if I get any work done at all when I've got this memory lingering with me tomorrow," he replied and you heard the smile in his tone, but with it came the bitter resurgence of the likely phone call from another woman that was bile in the back of your throat and even though he supposedly broke it off with her before you got married, you knew he had stayed in contact and you couldn't help but wonder how he fucked her and if it was comparable to what you and him had with each other, since she seemed to want him so badly. That wasn't to mention "Kitty" who he had insisted on still being "friends" with. A bit depressed and irritated, you pushed away his hands off your breasts and turned back over to face him in the dimness that made even those prominent blue colored eyes of his too muddled to see into.

"How did you become the most desired physicist to women in the whole country?" you asked softly.

"Good genes?" he guessed in amusement and you shook your head, not requiring a punchline.

"You're known to be a womanizer, neurotic, eccentric, a tad arrogant, and yet everybody seems to want you, including me as your own wife. Tell me, why did the universe give you such magnetized gifts?"

He gave a subtle lift of his shoulders with a small lazy smile as you laid your head on the pillow, fending off fatigue.

"Why was Aphrodite the one chosen to be blessed with such beauty and fertility? Why are we the way that we are? There are some matters of the human being to be unfounded in the definitive and everything is relative." He sat up with his back against the headboard and proceeded to light another cigarette and you sleepily watched the hazy smoke drift off above the bed towards the ceiling. He sighed, setting it to rest in the ashtray on the nightstand and wrap his lean arm around your body, drawing you close into his side.

"You are my goddess, Y/N. You are the only woman I want to return home too, always. Don't you know that?" he murmured into your hair and you vaguely nodded.

"I do, but I also know you're not always the most faithful man."

He lifted his hand and touched his ring finger to yours, matching the simple gold bands you both shared as two united.

"I married you out of good faith and the vows we pledged might have well been written in stone in the language of the gods along on the pulmonary arteries flowing as though a river into my heart," he told you with no trace of doubt, but you knew the whole story that didn't need flourishing.

"Only because the two other women fell through on commitment - although tonight I suspect they both presumably still want you - and one was already hitched, so she was having an affair by being with you and wouldn't divorce unless you happened to get her pregnant. I just happened to be the most available, the convenient bride with no attached strings, even though everyone said it was abnormally soon and I am too young," you recounted bitterly and he frowned, tilting your chin upward.

"Is that how you see it? I have never fallen for someone as fast and as hard as I did for you. I still feel the way I did when I laid a glimpse on you at Mary Ellen Washburn's party."

You smiled despite yourself and he bent to kiss the top of your head as you snuggled into his chest, absentmindedly fondling his moist cock with your fingers.

"I do love you beyond comprehension, Y/N," he whispered and you glanced up, meeting his look.

"I do too and I want to believe I always will, until the end of our existence. I am not those other women and I do not want to become so."

A solemn seriousness grew over him and he closed his eyes as you felt tears suddenly spike and an unexplainable terrible sense of dread came over you.

"Promise me one thing, Robert." You paused, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me that whatever happens to us in this world, in this setting, that you will always find a way home and whatever we face, we face together."

He gave a single nod, but you sensed reluctance in the way a muscle in his jaw made a minor spasm.

"I will always do my best."

"Alright," you resigned and he sighed, relaxing back and settling down into the sheets, further roping his arms around you and you burrowed your face into his chest, feeling his light hair follicles tickle your forehead. Tomorrow - and the future for that matter - was uncertain, but at least tonight was building up to a promise of solid sureness, a safeness, bonding those atoms of love again.

Love, or the feeling of it, was a lot like quantum mechanics; essentially invisible to the naked eye and complicated, but the one difference was that it was unmeasurable. No amount of numbers or equations could add up the real affection you felt for your husband, even when the waters became too choppy to be comfortable and it was far from perfect. You just had to cement the fact that you were Mrs. Oppenheimer and that wasn't going to change anytime soon, any disruptive external factors be absolutely damned to hell.

Thanks for reading, expect a little drama for chapter 2... And I do not have a full outline to every part of this fic, so please be patient as I find spare time to work on it and upload. I always appreciate any likes, reblogs, and feedback ❤️

*If anyone would be interested in being tagged, drop a comment and I'll make a tag list for the next part!*

[spaceshipellie]

everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

chapter three: bathe me clean

masterlist for other chapters (prev) (next) *✧･ﾟ: wc: 5.9k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: tlou au, violence, knives, guns, dead bodies, murder, stab wounds, self inflicted injuries, ellie’s dad humour, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: this took me a lot longer to write than i was expecting so hope people are still interested in this series lol, i’m kinda proud of it and thank you for being patient <3 as always lmk what you think!

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

A few days had passed and you and Ellie had decided it was a good idea to investigate the town. You were in the kitchen, checking through your backpack to make sure you had what you needed. You had to make sure you packed enough so you had resources out there, especially considering the town was several miles away, but not too much that it meant your bag was too heavy to move swiftly with.

“You got the map?” Ellie asked, zipping up her own bag and slinging it on her back. You noticed she had traded her blue shirt for a brown, long sleeve shirt that must have been Jack’s. It was slightly oversized on her but not too much.

“Yeah.”

You put your bag on, attaching the machete on the side and putting the pistol in your back pocket. You had already locked and secured the front door so you followed Ellie out the back and towards the barn. She grabbed the brown leather bridle from a hook and took it over to Harley, stroking her peach-fuzz soft nose before hooking it over her ears and buckling it up.

“Where did you learn to do that?” you asked, watching as Ellie scrunched her face in concentration.

“I read about it.”

She then grabbed the saddle and the forest green blanket underneath and slung it over Harley’s back. She studied it for a moment, adjusting its position until it seemed to slot better with the curve of the horse’s back. Harley stood patiently, kicking one of her hooves on the floor and snorted a soft breath. Ellie reached under her stomach for the band that dangled down, bringing it up to her side.

“Okay okay, let’s remember how to do this,” she mumbled to herself, fingers fiddling with the buckles. She stuck her fingers in between the band and Harley’s stomach to check the tightness and yanked around at the stirrups before giving Harley a pat on the neck, seeming satisfied with it all.

“That should be fine,” she said, turning to you. You blinked a couple of times, not realising how hard you had been staring at her hands working. You nodded, standing back as she led Harley out of the barn.

Ellie put one foot in the stirrup and held onto the saddle as she swung her other leg up and over. She adjusted her hips in the seat, bunching the reins in one hand before taking her foot out the stirrup and holding out her other hand to you.

“You ever ridden a horse before?” you asked.

“Nope, you?”

You grabbed her hand, putting your foot in the free stirrup to support you as she helped pull you up. You had to hop a little on the foot that was on the ground cursing a “fuck,” as Harley took a step forward as your leg flew over.

“Never,” you said as your ass hit Harley’s back.

She chuckled. “Well, this’ll be fun.”

She replaced your feet in the stirrups and indicated for the horse to start walking. The sudden jolt made you keenly aware that this was definitely the closest you and Ellie had ever been. Instinctively, she put her free hand on your knee for a second steadying you before moving it back to rest on her thigh.

“You okay back there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Your chest was pressed against her backpack, brushing up and down slightly with the movements of the horse. Harley walked through the field until you reached the road, the clack of her feet louder now that they were on the concrete. You held the map in both hands so it didn’t blow away, looking to see if you were heading in the right direction.

“According to this, we walk down this road for about a mile then we go right when we hit the junction,” you observed before folding it and shoving it back in your pocket, hands resting on your thighs.

“Seems easy enough, ‘least it’s not raining.”

“You’ve jinxed it now,” you teased.

“Oh shit,” she laughed.

It felt wrong to laugh too but you did. It felt selfish laughing when so many bad things had happened lately. It felt insensitive to laugh when your mom wasn’t around to hear it. Up until now, you thought you might never laugh or even smile again. You knew that it would take you a long time to heal after her death for who could put a restraint on grief. Yet you didn’t want to feel like actual poison was running through your veins anymore.

After losing your dad, it had been anger that had controlled you. You had fallen into a frenzy where everything you did was erratic and irascible. It was as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore. Your fingertips would claw at anything that made you feel as though you had found some retribution for what had happened to him. You thought at the time that it was the worst pain you had ever felt, but you’ve come to quickly realise that sadness is worse than anger. Anger can blindley carry you through whereas sadness makes your limbs too heavy to even move.

After losing your mom, you were overwhelmed with sadness. Everything hurt permanently and instead of time moving rapidly as a distraction, it had slowed to an impossible pace, as if it had pins holding your eyes open to watch the events play out over and over again. Her speaking to you, hugging you, leaving you.

“Y/n?”

“Huh?” you shook your head, snapping out of your thoughts.

“I said what does the map say after we turn right?”

“Oh right, um,” you flustered as you tried to pull the map out of your pocket, fingers suddenly feeling slippery as you tried to unfold it. “Um, oh fuck, fuck.”

Your hand flew out as the piece of paper floated to the ground, whisking along with the breeze. Harley staggered back and forth on her feet as your weight shifted, naturally trying to follow the direction of the fallen map.

“Woah, careful,” Ellie’s hand suddenly gripped your leg firmly and your hand darted out to grab her arm to stop you from sliding off.

“Sorry, but shit, the map,” you said pointing.

“I know, here,” she held her hand out for you to take, “get off for a second.”

You complied and she did the same, rushing to stamp on the measly bit of paper so it didn’t go any further. She picked it up and shook off some of the dirt, wiping it before holding it up to you.

“See? Good as new.” She chuckled at her own sarcasm.

Your stomach lurched with anxiety. You had barely left the house and you’d nearly lost the very thing that could help you navigate this place.

“Hey, don’t stress. We’ve got it,” Ellie said, noticing the way you were wringing your hands and nibbling your lip.

You met her eyes and nodded. “Sorry, I’m fine.”

She handed you back the map and you folded it up, safely tucking it in your pocket. She mounted Harley, once again holding her hand out to help you on.

“I had a look, after we go right we need to go left at a gas station,” Ellie informed you, asking Harley to walk again.

“Okay.”

“If you need to hold on, don’t be shy. I’d rather you not actually fall off.”

You nervously placed your hands just below her waist, lightly fisting the fabric of her shirt so as to not touch her body too much. She had just said to not be shy but that didn’t mean you weren’t. You spent the next few minutes in comfortable silence, taking in the sights of greenery around you. How it shined under the strips of sunlight that poked through the huge clouds.

“Have a look in my bag a second, there should be a book in there.”

“Did you not see me nearly fall on my face? I don’t think I’m good enough to read and ride a horse,” you jested.

“Not that kind of book,” Ellie laughed, “just look.”

Keeping one hand gripping her shirt, you unzipped her bag and dug around for something book shaped. When you felt it you pulled it out.

“No Pun Intended: Volume Two,” you read outloud, “what the hell is this?”

“Open it and read something,” Ellie pushed, grinning to herself.

You flicked through the pages.

“I stayed up all night wondering where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.”

Ellie laughed. “Funny, right?”

“Sure,” you smiled, unconvinced.

“C’mon, read some more.”

You turned the page.

“I never trust stairs because they’re always up to something,” you snickered, flicking through more pages.

“These are so dumb,” you commented before finding another. “I had a crazy dream last night. I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda. Turns out it was just a Fanta sea.”

“I don’t get it,” Ellie said, frowning in confusion.

“Me neither.”

“I’ve got one,” she started excitedly, already laughing at her own joke. “Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? I heard the food was good but it had no atmosphere.”

You put the book over your mouth, trying to stifle the laugh escaping your lips. “These jokes are so stupid.”

“Yeah, but you’re laughing.”

“No, I’m not,” a smile evident in your voice.

“Yes you are, I can hear you,” she chuckled, turning her head around for a second trying to look at you.

“Okay, fine. I laughed. But you’re the one who’s memorised some of them!”

“Who knows when you’ll need an emergency pun!”

You squeezed Ellie’s side where your hand was and it made her jump. “You’re so weird.”

About an hour later, you arrived at what you heavily presumed to be the town. The gas station you had passed on the way you thought you would check out on the way back if supplies in the town weren’t great. On approach, you could see terraced buildings lining the streets. It looked like a typical small town. Shops with broken windows. Cars parked in skewed positions with flat tyres. Street signs half covered in vines that grew thick across brick walls. A general eerily quiet atmosphere. Very normal. Ellie pulled Harley to a stop and you both got off.

“Where should we look first?”

“Um, maybe make our way down these,” Ellie gestured to a row of shops on your left. You climbed over the open window pane, carefully avoiding any of the broken glass on the floor. You seemed to be in a pharmacy with its clinically white walls and flooring. The shelves were mostly empty, some completely knocked over with various items littering the ground. You naturally both went to different sides, scanning for anything useful. There wasn’t a great deal where you were looking, just some paracetamol that expired the same year as the outbreak, some expired baby formula, definitely won’t be needing that, and some dust covered sunglasses. They had massive frames with electric blue lenses. Beside them on the wall you saw a ripped poster of a guy who was also wearing sunglasses and a colourful open shirt, carrying a large board on a beach. You smirked to yourself and wiped the lenses clean before putting them on and looking up at where Ellie was.

“Think I might save these for my next beach visit. You know, try ‘n’ catch some waves,” you joked, putting on your best surfer dude voice for the last sentence.

“Hot,” Ellie laughed, stepping closer to you and slapping a huge, wide brimmed straw hat on her head. It had a reduced sticker on it which made sense considering the world went to shit about a month after summer. “I’ll join you.”

Getting into character, you sauntered over to her and rested an arm on the shelf beside her, popping your hip and resting your hand on it. You pitched your voice lower. “What brings you to the beach, pretty lady?”

Ellie pitched her voice higher, pretending to twirl her hair around her finger. “Oh, you know, just wanna work on my tan.”

“Well lemme know if you want any,” you pretended to flex your muscles, “any surfing lessons.”

“Oh I will,” she fake giggled before you both burst out laughing.

“That hat looks ridiculous,” you said, slapping the front of the rim.

“These don’t look any better.” She tapped on the lens of the sunglasses.

“No really? I thought I looked cool.” You took them off, pretending to be disappointed.

Ellie chuckled and frisbee-threw the hat across the store. You continued your searches for supplies, again coming up against nothing. You crouched under a knocked over shelf, more broken glass crunching under your feet.

“Ohhh, fuck yeah.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of Ellie’s voice. She was grinning smugly at something small in her hands.

“What is it?”

She held up and wiggled a tiny plastic bag containing thin rolls of paper.

“Weed?”

“The one and only. Saving that for later,” she smiled, shoving it in her pocket.

You smiled at how excited she seemed. You had smoked once when you were fifteen with Amy but you both had no idea what you were doing so you’re not even sure if you did it right. You just remember it making you feel a bit wobbly and your throat had felt scratchy and burnt.

“I’m not having any luck here, wanna try next door?” you suggested and she nodded.

After searching through the row of shops you decide to find the supermarket, using the map for directions. It was a large, standalone building with rusted cars parked sporadically in the carpark. A few with windows broken and dented hoods, some completely destroyed from crashing into each other. It made you stop and think for a second about how terrifying and confusing it must have been when the outbreak hit. One minute you’re hearing the sounds of shopping carts across gravel whilst you load your shopping into the car and then you hear screams and screeching tires trying to escape.

“This seems to be it,” Ellie pondered. She suddenly mumbled a “shit” and you followed her eyes down to a skeleton beneath ripped clothing on the ground by the door. You grimaced thinking about how long that had been there and how many people had walked past the decomposing person over the years. Perhaps not many as this seemed to be the epitome of a ghost town.

Not being shocked by the sight, Ellie began trying to shove the broken automatic doors apart further. You watched as the wind blew a piece of her hair across her face, catching it in the corner of her mouth. You wanted to reach out and fix it for her, frowning to yourself as you weren’t sure why you had the urge to do that. Instead, you helped her pry the doors apart, each slipping through once there was enough room. You glanced around the expanse of aisle, noticing the signs that hung above them. The chipped cream floor was littered with anything from knocked over produce, broken shopping baskets, ripped pieces of board, broken glass, smears of blood and other unknown substances. The deeper you looked the darker it got, the light from outside only travelling so far, especially seeing as on one side some of the windows had large pieces of cardboard taped to them. Maybe that person out the front had been camping out here once upon a time.

“I’ll start left, you start right and we’ll meet in the middle?” you suggested. Ellie merely nodded before heading to the far right aisle. There were fifteen of them in total so hopefully you would find something.

You had made your way down to aisle four and had lucked out in finding some scissors and matches. Shaking a box upside down to see if anything came out of it you suddenly heard a rattle which sounded like the door. You inched your way towards the back, careful to not to bump into anything and give your location away. You prayed the sound was just Ellie, but you weren’t about to call out her name to find out.

“In here,” a gruff voice sounded. Fuck.

Footsteps clambered in, rubber soles screeching on the floor. You couldn’t detect how many there might be but you were definitely outnumbered. You made a mental note of where your weapons were and clutched your machete. You racked your brain for what to do, fear boiling up inside you. You could hear the movements from these newcomers spread out, shadows slipping underneath the shelving units. You slipped around to the end, peering round to see if the next aisle was clear. It wasn’t.

A woman was walking towards you, a gun in her outstretched hands. You moved quickly back into aisle four before she could see you but you knew you weren’t safe to stay there. You trod carefully down to the other end, towards the front of the supermarket but there was someone guarding the door. Knowing that you would have to face one of them no matter what direction you went in, you decided you had a better chance against the woman who could be turning in your direction any second now. You paid close attention to any noises you heard although the building was eerily silent as you made your way back up to the other, darker end of the aisle. Your body faltered as you heard a squelch in the distance followed by a low, agonising grunt.

Having reached the end, you braved peering around the corner again only to see the woman with her back to you, slowly walking away. You swapped your machete out for your switchblade and took your opportunity to wrap a tight arm around her neck and puncture it. She choked out a splutter of bubbling blood, dropping her gun as you brought her body down slowly to the ground. You snatched the gun from the floor and moved forwards in hopes of finding Ellie.

The next aisle was clear so you kept moving before a hand suddenly slapped itself over your mouth and an arm held a firm grip around you, yanking you back into them and onto the floor behind a freezer unit. Your eyes widened and your body went rigid until you glanced down and saw the brown shirt sleeve. Bringing your knees closer to your chest so that they weren’t sticking out the side of the freezer you slowly turned your head. Your eyes met Ellie’s as she removed her hand from you and brought a finger to her lips to be quiet. You noticed some blood smeared on her hand. Your worried eyes darted between hers as she tightened her lips in a line.

“They got Milo.” you heard a sinister voice.

“Sadie too,” a shakier voice said.

“C’mon, let’s find those little shits,” the first voice commanded.

Your back pressed harder into Ellie and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You both knew you couldn’t just wait there, they would find you eventually, but you had no idea how many of them were left.

“We’ll take out the guard at the door and run,” Ellie whispered so quietly she had to practically press her lips against your ear in order for you to hear.

She snaked her arm away from you and gave you a gentle push, indicating for you to shift away so she could sneak a look over the freezer. You were now both crouched as she peered over before snapping her head back down. She pointed left and you nodded slowly before beginning to move forwards, still in your crouched position. You held your breath as you emerged from behind the freezer, exposing yourself to the possible dangers. Swiftly, you ducked into one of the aisles, Ellie following suit.

You moved down the aisle with careful speed, wanting to just get out of there. A dark shadow flashed before your eyes before a tall man with a scar starting from his cheek and finishing on his neck appeared. You halted and immediately rushed back up the aisle to create more distance, now behind Ellie as you both ran. A sharp, dense pain hit your thigh as you yelped and stumbled to the ground. You looked down at your leg and saw a knife that the man had thrown at you lodged in your flesh. Beneath the rip it made in your jeans, blood spilled down your leg.

Your eyes darted up to the sound of heavy boots stomping towards you. Ellie reached for your hand as you tried to scramble your way up but a rough hand gripped and yanked at your ankle, pulling you onto your back and away from her outstretched hand. You tried to kick as the man climbed on top of you, a cry coming from your lips as he ripped the knife out. With your legs stuck under his weight, you tried to blindly grab for your machete. You could hear Ellie’s grunts in the distance and assumed she had also been grabbed. Your frantic fingers managed to get a hold on the weapon and pull it out from its location on the side of your backpack but before you could swing, the man gripped your wrist. With everything you had, you tried to fight against his strength but it was no use. With his other hand he slammed his knife down and you screamed as the metal punctured your arm. He then pulled your machete out of your weakened grasp and tossed it so it skidded along the floor far away from you. You looked into his hardened eyes, your own glossing over. Your fingers scratched at him as you tried to push him off but your actions were cut short when he pulled the knife out of your arm and brought it up above your chest, thick fingers adjusting to get a stronger hold on the handle. Your crimson blood dripped from the blade and clung in splotches to the fabric of your top. Whether or not Ellie was okay flashed through your mind before your ears started ringing and your eyes squeezed shut at the sudden splash of something on your face.

A gunshot echoed through the store and when you opened your eyes you realised the only thing holding the man up anymore was your grip on him. You gasped at the glassy look he had in his eyes as you shoved his corpse off of you, the knife he had clattering to the ground. You sat up and tentatively brought your hand up to your face and swiped your cheek before looking at the blood that coated your fingertips. Turning your head you saw Ellie with an enraged look on her face and a shotgun pointed in your direction. At her feet lay another dead body, blood spilled and smeared around it. She lowered her gun and her expression softened ever so slightly as she walked towards you, crouching at your side.

“Here,” she mumbled as she ripped a piece from the hem of her shirt to make a tourniquet for your leg. You winced as she tightened the knot and her eyes glanced quickly to your face before noticing the stab wound on your arm. She ripped off another strip of material and did the same thing before holding your arm to help you stand up. You scrunched your face in pain at the weight being put on your leg but gritted your teeth to bear it.

“Was that all of them?” you asked.

“Think so, I haven’t seen anyone else.”

You hobbled towards the door of the supermarket, Ellie keeping a firm grip on your arm to support you. She hadn’t let on that she had any injuries but you could tell she had suffered beatings of her own by the way she slouched and strained her face. When you reached the door she let go of you to pry the doors open again. As soon as her hands gripped them a scrawny body came out of nowhere and wrapped a metal pole tight around Ellie’s neck. You screamed her name as her hands flew to grab the stranger's arm, trying to pull it away from her as they stumbled back. The man looked young and scared yet he desperately held his firm grip on the pole.

Ignoring your injuries, you grabbed your switchblade and threw yourself at him. The impact made him loosen his grip letting Ellie free. She was bent over, coughing and holding her neck as you tackled the boy to the ground. The fear you had felt about nearly losing your own life as well as Ellie’s transitioned into red anger as the faces of everyone you had lost flickered through your mind like embers. You fell completely inside your own head to the point where it felt like your ears were stuffed with cotton wool, blocking out the cries and screams of the man as you stabbed his chest over and over again with your knife. The sticky blood splattered your hands and stomach as you remained on top of him, repeatedly releasing your rage with every slash. He started to choke on bright blood as his eyes lost light. A pinching grip on both your arms was the only thing that snatched you from the trance, your vision and hearing becoming clear again. Ellie’s shouts became louder and clearer.

“That’s enough, that’s enough! Stop!”

She pulled you off of the man, your switchblade slipping out of your red hands. You sat sideways with your legs bent and looked up at her sat on her knees in front of you, her hands still holding your arms. She looked into your eyes with concern and took in your bewildered expression.

“I-” you choked on your words. The adrenaline was still running through your body.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.”

Ellie grabbed your switchblade off the floor and wiped it on her jeans before shoving it in her pocket along with hers before helping you to your feet once again. You both wobbled your way out and thankfully over to Harley who hadn’t been harmed. She neighed and kicked her front foot upon seeing you as if she was grateful you were still there. You steadied yourself by placing a hand on Harley’s neck whilst Ellie lifted herself up. She held her hand out for you and you braced yourself as you heaved your aching body up and onto the horses back. You had no embarrassment this time about holding onto Ellie’s waist as she gently kicked her feet for Harley to go.

The ride home felt like an eternity. The adrenaline had soon worn off, allowing the searing pain to sink in. Ellie had occasionally checked in on you with a quick “you still with me back there?” to which you’d mumble out a yes. All you wanted was to lie down. When you reached the house you climbed off of Harley and made your way to the back door whilst Ellie secured her in the stable. As soon as you got through the door you slumped into one of the dining chairs. You groaned as you shoved your backpack off, revelling in the removal of its heavy weight. Ellie came in and dropped her bag down also before rotating one of her sore shoulders and sighing.

“Wait there,” she instructed.

“I don’t plan on moving any time soon,” you joked as she dug through the kitchen cupboards.

She pulled out a first aid kit and some alcohol before marching back over to you and setting them on the table. She pulled a chair for herself to sit in and placed it in front of you. Your knees bumped as she opened up the first aid kit. She then paused, realising that in order for her to access your wounds you would have to take your clothes off.

“Um,” she started. It then clicked for you too.

“Oh right, um, yeah, you know, I can do it if you–fuck,” you groaned as you started to stand up. Her hand darted out to stop you but she quickly brought it back.

“It’s fine,” she laughed nervously, “if you don’t mind, I don’t.”

You nodded in appreciation, pausing before fumbling with the makeshift tourniquet on your thigh. You tried to swallow a groan as the pressure on your leg was released. You hesitantly undid the button and zipper on your jeans before resting your weight on your other leg so you could push the rigid denim down, exposing the nasty, deep gash on the side of your leg. You pulled your top down over your underwear and looked at Ellie who was looking intently at the wound. She didn’t seem phased, only concentrated on helping you. She poured a bit of sterile rain water onto a cloth and dabbed to clean any grime out of it, pausing to look at you when you flinched.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“It’s fine, you’re not the one who stabbed me.”

She chuckled at your dumb joke and continued dabbing the wound. You became very aware of how her fingers softly touched your bare skin. It felt like that shouldn’t be something to think about right now but you couldn’t help but watch how she was delicately looking after you.

“Okay, this definitely will hurt,” she said, grabbing the alcohol and twisting the cap off.

You shifted in your seat, readying yourself. You had suffered stab wounds before but that didn’t mean you had gotten used to it. You let out a string of curses as the splash of alcohol burned. It dripped to the floor in tinted red droplets as she pressed the cloth to the cut again, applying pressure whilst she grabbed the roll of bandages with her free hand.

“Hold this, keep the pressure on,” she gestured with her head to her hand on your leg and you swapped with her.

She started to wrap the bandage around your thigh, your hand slipping away as the wound was covered and she used her switchblade to cut through it and tie the bandage off. You thanked her before she gestured to your arm.

“I’ll go and get you some clean clothes then do your arm.”

She ran up the stairs and returned with a top and some loose pyjama trousers and handed them to you. You thanked her and winced as you pulled the trousers on before peeling your sweaty, blood soaked top off, leaving you in a vest. Ellie resumed her role as nurse and treated your arm the same way she had done your leg. She gave you a soft look as she helped you pull the fresh top on.

“Can I help you now? What about changing this–”

“Don’t,” she cut you off and sat back as you tried to reach for her bandaged right arm.

You sat back too, mumbling an awkward sorry whilst her eyes darted nervously side to side.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s fine.”

A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell. You couldn’t help but stare at the bandage and wonder why she didn’t want your help. Especially seeing as she was completely fine helping you. You didn’t know what to assume but you could only suspect that something horrific had happened to her to make her suddenly shift from sweet to closed off in an instant.

“You should get some rest,” she whispered, avoiding eye contact.

You nodded and made an attempt to stand, groaning as you did so. A hot flash of burning pain pounded in your leg as you put your weight on it. Ellie quickly snapped a hand out to support you.

“Maybe you should just stay on the couch.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Your lips tightened as she helped you shuffle to the living room where you not-so-gracefully flopped onto the couch. You thanked her again and both mumbled goodnights before she disappeared upstairs, leaving you alone with your pain and curious thoughts about her.

ELLIE’S POV

Ellie’s fingers tapped nervously on her wrist where her hands rested on her stomach. It was in the early hours of the morning and she was staring up at the ceiling, her body feeling restless and flighty. She couldn’t keep this up any longer, not now that she wasn’t travelling alone. She was scared to death about how you would react and how you’d see her if you knew. She had to do something to hide it, something much more convincing than a raggedy bandage. The mattress springs screeched as she got up from the bed. She made her way to the bathroom and rummaged as quietly as she could through the cupboards.

“Fuck, nothing.”

She carefully descended the stairs, nose scrunching at the loud creak from the top step. She had to find something fast so that you wouldn’t accidentally wake up. She crept into the kitchen and started looking through all of the cupboards. Her wavering eyes suddenly landed on a white bottle. Hesitantly, she reached her hand out for it and stood up, staring at the glaring warning labels. Her eyes quickly scanned the small print to see if it was strong enough to do the job and when she deemed it was, she turned her head to peer out the kitchen door and into the living room. You were still fast asleep. Grabbing the bandages and a bottle of the sterile water that was still left out on the table, she went back upstairs and set the things down on the bathroom floor by the bathtub and shut the door. She took a big breath and stared at the items before her. Shaking her head to rid it of the doubtful thoughts she quickly knelt on the ground and yanked up her sleeve, peeling off the bandage. The scarred indents of the bite mark revealed themselves and she brushed a hand over it.

“Ok ok ok,” she chanted quietly to herself in an attempt to psych herself up.

She grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off, grimacing at the chemicals unnerving scent. She clenched her right fist and held out her arm over the bath. Her teeth gritted as she held the bottle ready to pour, occasionally tipping it back each time it got close to releasing the liquid.

“Fuck, come on.”

She clenched her jaw and tried to swallow a grunt as she poured the substance over the bite. Her skin stung but it took a few minutes before she could see it turning red with irritation. Her fist tensed as she let the chemical stab away at her skin, ensuring that it would blister enough to cover the bite mark. She tried to focus on keeping a steady breath to avoid thinking about the pain and when she had had enough, she quickly rinsed her arm thoroughly with the water before bandaging it up. She slumped to the ground and hung her sorry head low between her bent knees, looking down at her arms before her. She didn’t even realise she was crying until she felt a tear drop on her hand. She sat there and quietly sobbed until her head started to hurt. She figured she should put the bottle back in the kitchen where she found it to avoid any suspicion from you before she climbed into bed. Her eyes felt sore and heavy, a contrasting drowsy feeling to the lightening pain that was prickling her arm. But eventually, she was able to sleep.

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[herecirmsims]

Solo Horse And Rider

Nine poses for a solo rider and horse, plus all-in-ones. There are some issues with clipping reins (when using posed versions) and floating feet - please see details beneath cut!

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - Horse Ranch EP

Useful, but not required for the poses to work: - Iberian saddle and Medieval Engraved Bridle With Reins - Reins For Posing Bridle

Download here (always free) SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

Other CC used: Leg bells and braided mane/tail/forelock by SchrodCat | Default replacement horse skin by @minervamagicka | Celebrimbor armour by @plazasims | a slightly edited version of Apricot Blossom Preset by Simsboo

I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️ Thank you @ts4-poses and @alwaysfreecc!

You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Tips are appreciated but never required!

Details of known issues under cut to save your dash:

These poses have been annoying me for months lmao. I made them last year but ran into a couple of issues: at the time, all-in-one horse and rider poses posed out of alignment when placed off-lot with TOOL, and I also couldn't stop the reins from clipping in game (they are posed, and don't clip in Blender). I specifically wanted poses with reins because I have a hard time drawing them in, as I only have a mouse.

My off-lot bug seems to have been solved, and although I still haven't figured out why the reins are slightly off in game, I figured it probably doesn't matter: in the time Horse Ranch has been out, I've noticed most people draw reins in themselves.

I adjusted them slightly to work with the gorgeous new medieval saddle and stirrups by @morningstarequestrian , since that's what I'd be using my poses with, but although the rider's feet are resting on the stirrups in Blender, in game they hover. I don't know why and by this point I don't care enough to find out LMAO.

I've kept the original placement of the rider's hands and the reins on the horse rig, so you can use it with the LeiaMaria bridle for posed (but occasionally clipping) reins, or with any other bridle and draw the reins in yourself. In medieval art, most horses are shown to have two reins (one decorated, one 'normal') so I think using it with Morningstar's Medieval Bridle like this works fine (I would have drawn reins in myself if I wasn't lazy). The poses work with EA saddles, but I don't have other CC saddles-with-stirrups so can't say if the placement is off for others. 

[aheathen-conceivably]

“Good morning, birthday boy.”

Both Antoine and Zelda were now well used to rising at sunrise, so the words hadn’t woken him; but they did pull him out of the nebulous ether between sleep and wakefulness, so he moved closer to the woman curled around his back, “Oh, is that today?”

“Don’t play coy with me. That’s my job.”

Her hand wrapped around his waist, down his chest and to his drawstring, “I’m an old man now, my love, how could you possibly want someone with such wrinkles? I do believe I even found a gray hair yesterday.” A light laugh sounded in his ear, prompting him to turn and face her, “You can be so dramatic for a stoic. Thirty-six is not old.”

It was getting harder to answer her, to keep his tone measured as one of her hands wrapped around his neck and the other grazed up and down his arm. He brought his hand to her thigh, just below the lace of her silk shorts, “Oh you don’t believe me, do you? You should have heard the creak my knee made yesterday. I think it even scared off one of the horses.”

This time she did laugh aloud, shaking his hand off her thigh by throwing her leg onto the other side of his waist and sinking her weight down onto him. Her tone was as close to mocking as it ever came, “Yet not a peep from mine. Thank God at least one of us is still young enough for this.”

“Oh you’ll see one day, young lady. It’s tough to get old…” But by that point he had all but given up trying to speak without his voice descending into sighs. Her lips were trailing down his stomach, just slowly enough to answer him with a smile he had to look down to catch, “Sounds terrible. You poor thing. I suppose I’ll have to take care of you from now on, won’t I?”

Antoine took another glance out the window, where the day had already somehow grown brighter than he realized; but still he didn’t hurry Zelda with the last of his buttons. She caught his glance and finished the final one, “Don’t worry. You’ll barely be late.”

He pulled her close to him before grabbing his hat from the hook on the wall, “I know. And Mabel’s bakin’ a cake for lunch, so I doubt it’ll be much of a hard day.”

“Oh, so you did know.”

“You don’t have a market on coy, my dear.” He pulled his arm away and returned her wide smile, placing the hat on his head before grabbing her hand one final time, “How ‘bout you bring Violette over after you and Gio finish up work? She can have some cake and you and Mabel can enjoy yourselves.”

She answered with a quick kiss before turning to dress in her own work clothes, “Sounds great, old man.”

After their morning tasks, Antoine was standing in the stables with Silver. Before his daughter got there or he got another minute older, there was one thing he knew he wanted to do; and if he didn’t have the confidence to do it today he knew he never would. 

She had been friendly with him for weeks now, and he kept hearing Abe’s words in his mind tempting him like a daydream, “You get her to let you ride her and you’re welcome to, anytime you like.” Only she wasn’t some trained horse, she was wild and distrustful. Sometimes her nostrils still flared menacingly in his presence and he thought that maybe, despite all their time together, she still even hated him. But as he ran his hand along her shining black coat, she blinked slowly, trustingly, and he knew that it was the day.

He went to the front of the barn, where he grabbed the riding gear that had sat tempting him every day. First he set the blanket atop her, then the saddle. He stopped periodically as he adjusted it, listening and looking for any sign of her anger, but she stayed patient with him each step. Finally he placed the bridle on her face and buckled the strap in front of her chest. It was like she understood that the movement had fully encircled her in some sort of trap, and she kicked her legs angrily as her eyes went dark.

Any other day he might have walked away, or undone the buckle around her chest, but today he knelt down in front of her so he could look her in the eyes. “Hey old girl, hey,” the words were half spoken, half whistled, “it’s me, okay? Just me. You can trust me.”

Her kicking stopped and her eyes seemed to settle on him, blinking slower and slower as he ran his hand along the side of her neck.

He walked beside her, letting out a shaky breath and putting a hand on her thigh. Alright, Antoine. Now or never. Don’t think about her throwing you in the sand. Don’t think about her breaking your back with one kick. He grabbed onto the horn and hoisted himself up onto the saddle. In the movement his knee let out a low creak and he laughed aloud, louder than he intended to, “Old man.”

Only his voice seemed to stir something in Silver, and she immediately turned to trot out of the stables. He grabbed the reins immediately and went over everything Abe had told him. Don’t pull too tightly. Stay calm. Your feet matter just as much as your hands. Talk to them with every move you make. Stay fucking calm.

Out in the desert sunshine, he passed Abe in his favorite spot next to the fire where he had sat to eat his cake. Antoine didn’t dare fully turn to face him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see his eyebrows raised impressively and a small approving smile on his face.

The closer they got to the edge of the farmyard, the more Silver seemed to remember exactly what she was doing, and perhaps even exactly where she was going. Her feet moved slowly at first, and then faster and faster as Antoine’s guidance grew more comfortable and confident. As the hills opened up and the flowers parted for them, it was like he forgot to be afraid or to wish that this moment was everything he had ever dreamed of, simply because it was.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 10: Feral

You come up with a plan to replenish Jackson's supply of horses. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-9 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Late Fall, 2003 

You thought you were 20 years old. 

It was hard to tell. You lost track of time quickly after the outbreak but you thought it was November which means you’d turned 20. It was both hard to believe that it had been more than a month since the world ended but it seemed like it should have been longer than that, too. It felt like forever. 

It had been weeks since you’d talked to another person. Leo had been the last human who wasn’t infected you’d seen and you’d rather deal with infected than him. Winter was getting closer. You could feel it in the air, the threat of snow on the wind and you couldn’t keep going like this. You’d need shelter, both for you and for Nike. 

You’d made it a point to stay off roads and stick to the wilderness. There was less chance of running into people that way, assuming there were any actual people left. You still ran into infected people out there, though. Their shrieking, clawing forms were obvious, even from afar. They weren’t smart like predators, they didn’t prowl or stalk. They just stumbled through the world hoping to run into someone else to attack. It made them easy to pick off, able to sit atop Nike and shoot them, dropping them from so far away that they weren’t even really a threat. 

But now, you would have to try your luck with the roads. You needed to find a place to hole up for the winter and you weren’t going to find that where you were, it was too damn remote. It was a risk, you knew, but the bigger risk was staying out in the elements where you’d freeze to death. One was a sure shot at death, the other was just a really good chance of it. 

So when you came across a road, you made the call.

“Well, at least we’ll go down swingin’,” you scratched Nike’s neck and sighed, guiding her onto the pavement. 

You were on the road for a few hours before you came to a town. You could smell it before you saw it, the air rotten and reeking. You scrunched your nose against it, passing the burned out shell of a humvee as you came up on the gas station and dollar store that marked the edge of whatever tiny place you’d stumbled upon. 

The town was small, maybe four streets. There was a McDonald’s and a small grocery store and then, at the center of town, at the corner with a pharmacy and a delivery pizza place and a dentist’s office, was a pile of bodies. 

It looked like the whole town, dozens of them all rotting and bloated, flies gathered on distended and split bellies. 

“Fuck,” you leaned over the side of Nike and threw up, choking and gagging on the sight and smell. 

Once you were sure you weren’t going to vomit on yourself, you dismounted and took Nike’s bridle, stepping as close as you dared to the decomposing pile. One of the bodies was intact enough that you could see what killed him. A bullet to the head. 

“What the fuck?” You breathed, looking over more of the bodies. The few you could make out had all been shot. “What the fuck?” 

They could all have been infected, of course. But the whole town? All at once? To put in some perverse pile like trash? It didn’t make sense. Something else had happened here. 

“We’re just gonna figure out where the fuck we are and pick a place to go,” you said to Nike as you led her to the pharmacy. 

You pried the doors open and went to the single check out counter, looking for something to tell you where you were. You managed to break open the cash register - not that you bothered holding onto any of the money, the sudden realization that these pieces of paper were inherently valueless barely even registering when compared to the pile of bodies outside - and found the cash bag for the bank. There was a label on the front. “Wilson’s Pharmacy 167 Main St. Davis Junction Wyoming.” 

“Davis Junction,” you said to yourself quietly, frowning. The name was familiar. You recognized it from something but you couldn’t put your finger on what. 

You looked outside to make sure Nike was still tethered to the lamp post and made your way quickly through the store, finding what supplies you could from what had already been looted. There were some canned foods, at least, and some bottled drinks. There were also packs of tampons and some pain killers so you took those, too. You loaded Nike down with everything you could fit into the saddle bags and your pack before going to scratch her forehead. 

“Davis Junction,” you said to her. She chuffed. “Sounds familiar to you, too, then?” She stomped her hooves impatiently. You went to climb on her back again when you remembered where you knew the name of the town. 

This was the place where one of the stupid tourist ranches your ranch sold horses to picked up their clients. There was a tiny airport just outside of town, just big enough for all the rich assholes in their private planes to fly in to dress up and play cowboy for a week or two. The ranch was north of town a good 25 miles, you thought, and off the beaten path. 

If it had turned out like where you’d come from, everyone there would be dead or turned and you’d have the place to yourself. The perfect spot to ride out the winter. 

“Let’s see if we can’t find that place, huh?” You gave Nike a pat and pointed her north, heading to where you hoped you’d find salvation. You didn’t want to come back here if you could help it, not to the rotting flesh and the haunting emptiness of the place. 

It took you the better part of two days to find the ranch, relying on the hazy memory you had of bringing horses you’d broken over in the fall of 2002 to turn down different dirt roads that weren’t labeled and seemed to lead into the wilderness. 

But eventually, you found it. You were right, the place was abandoned. You went room by room through the bunk house and the main house and the barn - the horses that had been housed there long gone. There was plenty of tack left, though. Feed, too. If you could keep pests out of it, there was enough to last Nike all winter. 

The trick would be getting you through it all. 

“At least you’re covered,” you sighed, scratching Nike’s neck. She chuffed. “You’re the better of us, anyway.” 

Your first winter on your own was rough. 

You’d never cooked for yourself before. You’d gone straight from living with your parents to living in the bunkhouse where all the meals were provided for you. You’d made mac and cheese for yourself a few times and knew how long to toast a Pop Tart but that was about the extent of it. 

Now, you didn’t have the luxury of a stove or oven or even a grocery store. There were some canned things left behind but you wanted to stretch it, so you started hunting.

You’d hunted with your dad and brothers as a girl but had never dressed an animal, so you took a guess. You also took a guess at how to cook the damn thing, assuming it was safe to eat once the outside was charred black. 

You were wrong. 

You gave yourself food poisoning six times that winter, thought you were dying at least twice. You damn near froze to death in the bunk house before you decided to check out a cluster of cabins for the tourists that you’d passed several times on your hunts but never actually gone into. Sometime about halfway through the winter, you moved you and Nike into them. They were smaller so they warmed up easier and they had working fireplaces. 

Things got a bit easier after that. 

Winter was still hard. You lost weight that you couldn’t really afford to lose and supplies from the ranch were diminished but you’d survived with Nike. By spring, you had a reasonable set up going. 

The books in the tourist cabins - put there for some kind of aesthetic set dressing you were sure - were oddly helpful. Information on hunting and trapping and foraging in the old west was abundant if not necessarily thorough. It was enough that you thought you could live there for a while without needing to risk finding a town where you might run into another person. 

It was in this newly comfortable period that you were out on Nike, further from home than you usually ventured, exploring more than anything else, when you saw them. A whole herd of wild horses, dozens of them, running free.

You weren’t sure how long you watched them. They clearly hadn’t seen people in a while, paying you and Nike no mind as they went about their business grazing and running. You scratched Nike’s neck. 

“All my eggs are in one horse sized basket with you, aren’t they?” You said. 

Many of your traps were too far away to reasonably walk to check them regularly. You were too far from any towns to make it on foot and back in a day, especially hauling anything back with you. You wouldn’t last long without a horse and you had one. If she broke a bone, escaped, got shot in an attack, you’d be fucked. 

You leaned forward on the saddle, watching the horses.

“How about we get you a sister?”

June, 2026

Joel was next to you, close enough that your arm brushed his. 

It was about the only thing keeping you from snapping into a full blown panic. You were wearing the shirt again but the smell was already fading. Having Joel close enough that you could feel him there was helping keep you grounded. 

“Clearly our current patrol schedule and pattern was lacking,” Warren, an ex-Army officer who coordinated the patrols, was saying. “We absolutely cannot cut back, not now. Not if we expect to stay safe.” 

“Our resources are limited,” Maria sighed. “We only have so many horses…” 

“We have the foals,” Warren said. “How long ‘fore they’re trained?” 

“Now is as good a time as any to hear from the stables,” Maria sighed, her eyes finding you pressed against the back wall, your nails digging into the wood paneling until it hurt. 

You froze for a moment, chest tight. 

“You can do this,” Joel said gently. You glanced up at him. He gave you a small smile. “I’ll be right here. You’re OK.” 

You hadn’t really wanted to come to this council meeting at all. Tommy got Joel to talk you into it. Consciously, you knew you needed to be there. The whole purpose of the meeting was to discuss how to handle patrols after the attack now that you were down almost half a dozen animals. You needed to be there. 

But you knew the whole town would be crammed into one room, that emotions would be high, and that you’d probably need to talk in front of everyone. You’d never been one for public speaking, not even before. Now? It seemed like hell. 

But you had to do it. 

You took a deep, shaky breath and crossed your arms over your front before you spoke up. 

“We got…” 

“Can you step forward?” Maria cut you off. “We’re having a hard time hearing you from back there.” 

You clenched your jaw. 

“I’ll go with you,” Joel said quietly. “I’ll watch your back, you’re OK.” 

You pushed yourself off the back wall and walked up the middle aisle of the chairs packed into the meeting hall, Joel close enough behind you that you could feel him there. You kept your eyes on Maria. You liked Maria. She was safe. You stopped in front of the council, Joel close behind, the weight of every eye in the room heavy on you. 

“We got three foals right now but they’re yearlings,” you said, arms crossed, eyes on Maria. “They’re too new to break yet, can’t start workin’ with them until next year. We can try to foal some more, but it’ll take a year before they’re here and two more before we can start to work with ‘em. Add another two months to break ‘em, so three and a half years…” 

“So you’re saying we’re fucked,” Warren said. 

You looked at him, brows drawn together. 

“That ain’t what I said at all,” you replied. “There’s…” 

“Sounds like that’s what you’re saying,” he cut you off before turning back to the council. You clenched your jaw, fingers digging into your biceps. “What we really need…” 

“What you really need to do is shut the fuck up and let her finish talkin’,” Joel growled over him. “This ain’t your area of expertise.” 

Joel had stepped closer to you, at your shoulder now. You glanced up at him and he gave you a nod. 

“What I was saying,” you said, glaring at Warren before looking back to Maria. “There’s another option.” 

“Which is?” She asked. 

“We catch horses instead of breeding them,” you said. The room went almost eerily quiet, none of the soft side conversations still happening. 

“We’ve never tried to catch and break wild horses before,” another council member, Anthony, frowned. “Seems like a big risk…” 

“It’s not,” you said, all but forgetting the room full of people. “I’ve done it before, there are herds of feral horses I think about 40 miles north of here. Getting them back here will take some doing but send enough people and we can do it. Breaking a feral horse is a bit more work than one you foaled yourself but it’s perfectly doable. We send a group up to capture a few, bring them back here. I can get them all to dumb broke and then divide up the rest of the work, Olivia can handle some, Simon, too. In four months, give or take, we can get back to full capacity.” 

“And you’re confident you can do this,” Maria asked, brows raised. 

“Did it before without help,” you shrugged. “Shouldn’t be a problem now.” 

“Then we’ll send a group to find horses next week,” she said. “Warren, in the mean time, find a way for us to cover the immediate area at least partially on foot, get us through until we’re back up to our normal supply of horses.” 

You stayed put as the meeting hall emptied, leaning against Joel as it did. After a moment, his hand went to your lower back and you relaxed into him. You wanted some breathing room before trying to make your way back home, not up for the press of people as they filtered onto the street and went their separate ways. 

“Thanks,” you said, glancing up at him. “Hate fuckin’ talking in front of people…” 

“Warren’s a jackass when he decides he’s right about somethin’,” Joel said. “Can’t tell when to shut the fuck up for the life of ‘em.” 

“Wonder what that’s like,” you smirked a little and caught Joel rolling his eyes when you looked up at him. 

“Let’s get you home before you find a way to cause more trouble,” he muttered. 

“When do I cause trouble?” You turned to look at him directly, eyes wide. He smiled. 

“You stole a horse the first day you were here,” he nudged you toward the door. “So we’ll start there, work our way through the last eight months…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you elbowed him in the side, the room quieter and empty now. 

You always walked slowly when you walked home with Joel. Sometime in the past few weeks, the balance of something had tipped and you liked it more when you were next to him than when you were by yourself. You were spending more and more time with him as a result, half waiting for him to ask for space from you after you hung around so much. He hadn’t yet. 

“So this horse mission…” he trailed off, hands in his pockets. 

“Yeah?” You looked over to him. 

“Sounds…” he paused, quirking his jaw but not looking at you. “Sounds like it might be dangerous.” 

“Not exactly safe,” you shrugged. “But if you’re not a dumbass about it, no more dangerous than going on patrol.” 

“Not gonna get yourself killed because Warren’s too stubborn to figure out a new way to handle patrols, are you?” He asked, finally looking at you, his eyebrows knitted together. “Because if it’s too dangerous…” 

“I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I used to do this,” you smiled a little at him. “Took and broke probably three dozen horses after the outbreak, I can do it. Getting them all the way back here will be a struggle, though.” 

Joel nodded slowly. 

“You doubtin’ me?” You asked, half teasing but half not. It surprised you but you cared that he had faith in your skills. You needed him to think that you were capable, competent. Needed him to understand that you weren’t some useless thing shadowing him through the world. 

“Bambi, couldn’t pay me enough to doubt your skills with horses,” he smiled a little. “Just don’t want you puttin’ yourself in harm’s way. It’s not worth it.” 

“Will you come with me?” You asked. “To get the horses I mean.” 

He scoffed. 

“Good luck getting me to stay behind.” 

You smiled a little at that. 

“Is where we’re headed…” he trailed off, looking at his feet. “You sounded familiar with it. You been there recently?” 

You nodded slowly, your stomach clenching. 

“Been a few years but…” you shrugged, trying not to think of the place you left behind. Of what you would do to go back to what it was before. “The horses will be there. That’s the important thing.” 

Even with the slow pace, you reach your house eventually. Both your footsteps slow up your walk until you’re at your door. You cross your arms over your body and bite your lip, staring at Joel’s chest for a second before you work up the nerve to speak. 

“Can I ask a favor?” You couldn’t look him in the eye. 

“Course Bambi,” you could hear the frown in his voice. “What d’you need?” 

“I really love the shirt,” you said, gripping the cuffs a little tighter, nails digging into your palm through the cotton. “But… I think I’ve been wearin’ it too much and it doesn’t…” 

“Want another one?” He cut off your rambling and you were actually able to meet his gaze then. He was smiling a little, his eyes crinkled and warm and soft and you had the strangest urge to reach up and touch his face. You squeezed your biceps instead and nodded quickly. “I’ll give you another in a day or two. Don’t want you stuck with somethin’ that’s just sweaty…” 

“Thank you,” you leaned forward and pressed your forehead into his chest, breathing him in. You didn’t fully realize you were doing it until you were touching him - not that you had to go far to do it, you found yourself standing closer and closer to Joel all the time anymore - but you were relieved the second your body made contact with his. There was a relief in touching him. It sank into you, loosening your neck and your shoulders and your arms and your stomach until you had relaxed into him. He delicately put his arms around you, enveloping you in him. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged by it. Instead, you welcomed it, felt secure in it. Your arms slowly, cautiously, went around his waist, your hands splaying wide over his back to press his body closer. His chin came to rest on the top of your head and you could feel the life of him there against you, his breaths and his heartbeat and his heat. You held each other for a few minutes before you started to pull back from him. Not because you wanted to but because, if you didn’t, you weren’t sure what would come next. 

“See you tomorrow?” You asked, your hands shoved in your back pockets. It was safer to have them there, they weren’t at risk of doing something stupid there. 

“See you tomorrow.” 

***

Joel wasn’t thrilled with the people coming on the mission to collect horses. 

There were 12 people including him and you but Tommy was staying behind to help bolster the remaining patrols and protect the town over the few days you’d all be gone. 

Joel didn’t like it. 

There weren’t many people in Jackson he felt he could trust to really do what was necessary in situations like this one. 

Not that he didn’t generally trust the people there. He did. They were good men and women - even if Simon seemed to be begging to get laid out and Warren was a self righteous jackass. He had his issues with some of them, certainly, but they were all good people. People he was lucky to be around, given his checkered past. 

But they weren’t always the most capable. 

And, after the attack on the patrols, it felt like, when they left the town, they did it with a target on their backs.

This run was going to be even riskier than normal. 

The group would be heading far outside the usual bounds of patrols, be in greater danger returning as you guided half a dozen feral horses back across miles of open country. 

And you were helping to coordinate it all. 

Warren insisted on running point which was fine by Joel because it meant that he could stick close to you, try to force you to stick closer to the middle of the pack where you’d be less likely to be hit first by raiders or infected. 

Joel tried to not think about why he was so desperate to protect you, the flavor of the muscle-clenching fear akin to what he felt when he traveled with Ellie. You’d become woven into his life now. It hadn’t been what he’d intended when bringing you to Jackson, though he should have realized the risk of it from the first time he laid eyes on you. But you had quickly become the thing he looked forward to most every day. 

He’d work with Tommy on a construction project and find himself counting down to when he could go find you at the stable and walk to the mess hall for dinner. On days you weren’t working, he opened a window and waited for the squeak on the bottom step of his front porch - a squeak he hadn’t fixed in part because it meant he knew you were there to play guitar a second sooner. 

The one upside to this harebrained mission was the fact that he’d get to be next to you for days straight. Two days before everyone left, you were dragging your feet on the walk back to your place after movie night. Your arms were crossed over your chest, the sleeves of the shirt Joel had given you a few days earlier rolled up to your elbows, the bottom of it tied around your waist. Your lower lip was between your teeth as you looked at the ground, kicking clusters of dirt in the street with your boot as you walked. 

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind or are you just plannin’ to chew your lip off?” Joel asked lightly. 

“I wanna ask you somethin’ but I don’t want you feeling like you’re obligated to say yes,” you glanced up at him. 

“Ask me.” 

“Joel…” You sighed and trailed off. 

“Try me, Bambi.” 

You looked up at him. 

“I haven’t needed to sleep near other people in… a while,” you looked back toward your feet. “I’m not sure… I don’t know how that’s going to go. You’re the only person I trust enough to sleep next to and I was hoping that, if you’re OK with it, when we go out…” 

“Course, Sweetheart,” he smiled a little. “I was gonna try and stick close to you anyhow.” 

“Yeah?” You glanced over at him. 

“Yeah,” he smiled a little. “Warren fuckin’ snores.” 

The journey so far had been mercifully quiet, though you were tense. Joel could sense it on you, see it in the way you sat on your horse and the way you tried to subtly press your nose into the collar of the shirt he’d given you. But you kept looking out at the horizon, like you were waiting for something to come for you. 

Joel was relieved when Warren announced that they were nearing the stopping point for the night. Like he could relax a bit once a watch schedule was set and he didn’t feel like he’d need to look for a threat from every angle to keep you alive. 

You stuck close to him all evening, sitting near enough to him during dinner that your arm brushed his when you moved. 

“Here,” Joel held a flask out to you as everyone started going their separate ways, spreading out sleeping bags as stars appeared overhead. You raised your eyebrows at him. “If you want. Might help you sleep.” 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it from him. Your fingers brushed his and he tried to ignore what the feeling of your skin on his did to him. You took a drink. “You were smart, bringing this along.” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Been a while since I was sleeping rough. Thought it might help.” 

You nodded, taking another drink.

“Was that when you were traveling with Ellie?” You asked, handing the flask back to him. He took a drink, even though he didn’t even really want one. He just wanted his lips to touch where yours had been. He put the flask away. 

“That was a long stretch of it, yeah,” he smiled a little. It was almost strange, remembering that time fondly. They’d spent a lot of time trying to not get fucking killed. But she’d been with him, reading her damn puns and asking every question under the sun and calling him an old man. He’d give anything to do that with her again. “Didn’t seem so bad then.”

The two of you spread your sleeping bags out on the ground, a bit away from the next cluster of people. Far enough that it was almost like you had privacy. 

“What happened with you two?” You asked, sitting on your sleeping bag and looping your arms around your knees. 

“She hasn’t told you?” He asked, sitting on his own sleeping bag. It was funny, you felt oddly far away now even though, just a few weeks ago, he’d have been amazed at how close you were. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Tells me to ask you. Figured if you wanted me to know you’d tell me sometime but…” You shrugged. “Seemed like a good enough time to ask.” 

Joel nodded, trying to come up with a way to phrase it right. 

“We were in… a situation,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “My options were real limited and her life was on the line. I did what I had to do to get her out alive. She disagrees.” 

You nodded slowly, processing. 

“I’m guessing you had to hurt a lot of people to get her out of it,” you said, watching him carefully. 

“Not exactly proud of it but,” he shrugged. “I’d do it the same way all over again if given the chance. It was the only choice that made sense. What was the point of all that if it just ended in her dyin’? All the hell we went through to make it this fuckin’ far, the people who died on the way… I did what any parent would do. I saved my kid. She can hate me for it if she wants, that’s fine. At least she’s alive to do it.” 

You just nodded for a second, still watching him. For a moment, he wondered if you saw him for the monster he knew he was below the surface. If the shadow of the worst of him would scare you off. 

“She’ll understand one day,” you said after a moment. “Once she’s older, she’ll get it. If she’s ever a parent. She’ll understand.” 

Joel just looked at you for a moment, the moonlight casting you in silhouette, the curve of you soft and inviting. 

He lay down instead of touching you. 

“Joel?” You said quietly after a few minutes. 

“Hm?” 

“Would it be OK if I moved closer?” 

His heart beat faster. 

“Course.” 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as you adjusted in your sleeping bag until you were inches - not feet - away. 

“Feel free to shove me back if I snore,” you said, teasing a little. 

He laughed. 

“Sure, Bambi.” 

Joel woke up before you, the soft heat of you against him. You’d moved even closer to him in your sleep, your body loosely curled against his, your face against his chest. He could feel you breathing, your face relaxed in the early morning light. 

For a moment, he froze. Was it right to enjoy this? A closeness you hadn’t intended but had happened anyway? He wasn’t sure. But you were peaceful, looking calmer and more at ease than he’d ever really seen before, the edge of your lips curved into a small smile. 

Fuck, he wanted to kiss you. Wanted to knot his fingers in your hair and pull you close and taste you. 

“Bambi, sweetheart,” he said quietly instead, delicately reaching out and tucking the hair that had come loose from your braid behind your ear, his callused fingertips brushing against your skin and fuck you were soft. You were so fucking soft how were you that fucking soft? 

Your face scrunched, eyebrows knitting together over your still closed eyes. You groaned a little and nestled closer to him. Joel’s breath hitched and let his hand fall gently, delicately, to your cheek. You sighed contentedly. 

He could have stayed like that forever. Lay there, touching you, feeling you close and safe, and never grown tired of it. But he heard the sounds of others starting to stir for the day and doubted that you’d want anyone to see the two of you like this. 

“Bambi,” he said again, voice still soft. “Time to start wakin’ up…” 

You stretched a little and yawned before you opened your eyes and jumped a little, your gaze tracing over Joel’s face for a moment. 

“Sorry,” you yawned, voice scratchy with sleep. He took his hand back. “Wasn’t tryin’ to invade your space…” 

“S’OK.” It was more than OK. So much more than OK. Your eyes trailed down between the two of you, where your bodies touched, before going back to his face. 

“You’re warm.” 

“Been told that.” 

You smiled a little before rolling onto your back and putting more distance between you than Joel ever really wanted there to be. 

He sighed. He desperately needed to get his shit together with you. 

That’s all he could really think about as the group rode the last few hours to where you thought the horses would be. About how he couldn’t let the feelings he had for you take over. It wasn’t fair to you to let them take over. You trusted him, trusted him to not do the monstrous things other men did. You could hardly stand to be in the same room as other people but, for some reason, you’d accepted that Joel was safe. How safe could he really be if he thought about touching you, undressing you, being inside you when you’d made it clear that wasn’t what you wanted? 

Joel was relieved when the group found the horses. It would, at the very least, force him to think about something besides how he shouldn’t want you for a while. 

The animals had clearly not been near people for a long time, none of them so much as stirring at your arrival. There were dozens of them, grazing and casually romping in the shallow hills. It was an oddly idyllic scene, like something from a postcard or National Geographic, the world returning to its natural state now that humans had retreated from their position of power over all things.

“Maybe this’ll be easy,” Warren said as you and Joel rode up alongside him, looking out at the herd of animals

“They’ll take off once we start comin’ for ‘em,” you said, getting the rope from your saddle and slinging bundles of it over your shoulder. “We just need to keep herding them in the right direction until we got what we came for. Try to get younger ones, mares if you can. We still have a few stallions and we can keep numbers up if we foal them ourselves but we need enough mares for that to work.” 

“Right,” Warren clenched his jaw, clearly uncomfortable needing to default to your command. You didn’t seem to notice. 

“If you have trouble actually ropin’ ‘em, just focus on herding,” you said. “I can get them all eventually if we can keep them in this area and they don’t take off too far.” 

“I can do it,” he said, defensive. 

You shrugged. 

“Feral horses are different animals. Don’t feel bad if you can’t.” 

Joel tried not to laugh, Warren looking like he wanted to burst with the indignity of it all. The man wasn’t comfortable not being the best, not being in the lead. You, it seemed, were fine running things, confident enough in what you knew to not need to posture to prove it.  

“My group will go in from the east and the north,” you said, still unbothered. “You handle west and south.” 

The group split in half, you leading one side and Warren the other. You closed your eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again. 

“Let’s catch us some horses.” 

The system you’d devised may not have been ideal, but it worked. You were right, the horses did start moving once the group got close enough, but you found channels between them, guiding Renaissance with your body as your hands were occupied trying to get a rope around a horse. 

It took you three tries to get the lasso around the first one and you pulled it away from the rest, quickly passing the rope off to Jonathan, one of the men who’d come along for this mission. He started leading it away and you slung another rope off your arm, going for the next one. 

“Got one!” You yelled, loud enough that your voice would carry even over the thunder of hooves. “Push em’ east!” 

Joel could have watched you run horses down all day. Of course, he could have watched you do almost anything all day. But this was your element, on the back of an animal you’d worked with so much that she could anticipate your movements and you hers, bringing wild creatures to heel with your power. He was in awe of you, had to remember to play his part and not just get lost in watching you. 

You ended up taking five of the six horses Jackson needed, Warren taking the last one and looking none too pleased about his relatively lacking contribution. The horses were all tethered to trees about a quarter mile from where they’d been captured and you started working with them immediately, ingratiating yourself to them with apples and grain and water. By the end of the day, you’d gotten them to the point that they wouldn’t rear back when you approached and you’d started bringing other humans close to them with you, tying the idea of easy food to every new person they met. Joel watched in wonder when you reached a hand out for the calmest of them, like an offering. It smelled your palm and stomped its feet, huffing, before pressing its nose against your skin. 

“There we go,” you smiled, voice soft and gentle, cradling the horse’s large head in the palm of your hand. “See? I know it don’t seem like it now, but I’m a friend. I’ll take care of you, give you a good life. Promise.” 

By the time the new horses were settled enough to even consider moving them it was too late to start heading back to Jackson. You settled your sleeping bag near Joel’s again, but further than the night before. There was a distant look on your face, like you were somewhere else entirely. 

“You alright?” He asked as the two of you went to lie down for the night. 

“Fine,” you said quickly, almost too quickly. 

He frowned. You should be happy. The plan had worked, you’d successfully captured enough horses to make it that Jackson wasn’t short handed. No one had gotten hurt. You had a lot to be proud of. But you weren’t.

“Bambi…” 

“Said I’m fine, Joel.” 

He didn’t believe you when he fell asleep. He definitely didn’t believe you when he woke up, the night still dark and cold, and found your sleeping bag empty. 

He sat up quickly, looking around. Even with a bright moon it was dark and you were nowhere to be seen. 

“Bambi?” He said quietly, not really expecting a response but still feeling the thrill of panic clutch his chest when you didn’t reply. “Shit…” 

He got up, his back aching after a few hours on the ground. 

You might be with the new horses. But something told him he wouldn’t find you there. 

Instead, he went for where the horses that had come from Jackson had been put for the night and there you were, untying Renaissance from the tree she’d been tethered to, talking to her all low and calm. 

“Didn’t take you for the type to sneak off in the night,” he said, making you jump. He turned his flashlight on. 

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you spun to face him, clutching your chest. “Scared the shit out of me.” 

“Where are you going.” 

“Joel…” 

“Where are you going, Bambi?” 

You were quiet for moment, not looking at him. 

“I was gonna be back by morning,” you said quietly. 

“Were you?” He asked. “You’re not a prisoner in Jackson, you really wanna leave that bad, you can just go. We wouldn’t stop you.” 

His chest hurt to say it, to think of you leaving. To think that you felt like you needed to slip away under the cover of darkness, not even saying goodbye.

“I know.” 

“Then what the fuck are you doin’?” His throat was tight. “Takin’ off in the middle of the fuckin’ night, not tellin’ me where you’re goin’…” 

“I lived near here.” 

Joel was quiet. You were looking at him now, eyes wide and open and honest. Pleading. 

“I lived near here,” you said again. “And… It’s been a few years but… I wasn’t sure if there… I left… I thought I could see if there was any sign of… See if they didn’t take everything when they took me and…” 

“How far.” 

“What?” 

“How far,” Joel asked again, going for his own horse. “Not goin’ out there on your own. How far is it?” 

“Only about five miles,” you said after a moment. “Joel…” 

“You really think I wouldn’t give you what you asked for if you just asked for it?” He asked. You were silent. He got on his horse. “C’mon. If we’re gonna be back by morning we gotta get moving.” 

You nodded quickly, climbing on Renaissance and leading the way. 

The ride didn’t take all that long. With just the two of you, you made it in about an hour to a patch of cleared forest that took Joel a moment to realize used to have buildings. 

“What’d they do?” You breathed, dismounting with your flashlight tight in your grip. Joel got down, too, staying close behind you as you looked around the ruins of what had once been your home. 

He could see now that there had been a few small structures here, now nothing but charred piles that had become overgrown with ferns and ivy. It had all burned and not recently.

You walked carefully, delicately through it, looking for something but there was almost nothing to find. It was gone. You made it to the middle of one of the structures and looked over the ground, shining the flashlight everywhere you could reach, picking through the burned piles on the ground, but there was nothing but dirt and ash. 

You fell to your knees and let out a single strangled, choking sob, the sound ripping out from deep inside you. 

“Bambi…” 

He knelt beside you and slowly, cautiously, put his hand in the middle of your back. 

“I didn’t think I’d be able to find…” you were crying, your voice wet. “But I thought… maybe something… I didn’t…” 

You dropped your head to Joel’s shoulder and pressed yourself against his side, your whole body shaking. He held onto you and let you cry there against him until his shirt was soaked and your breaths were steady. 

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart,” he said, running a hand from the crown of your head down your spine. 

“Should have known better,” you said bitterly. “I know what they’re like, what they take.” 

He wanted to ask but fought the urge, instead keeping his hands on you. 

“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go home.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Bambi is just out here, hugging Joel, sleeping next to Joel, causally touching Joel.

Guys, I think she might... like Joel? 👀👀👀

Crazy, I know!

I do still have a taglist and fully intend on setting up a notifications blog this weekend. If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please comment below!

Thank you so much for being here! I know this story is the slowest of slow burns and I PROMISE it will get smutty eventually. And it's coming up! But I don't want to rush it and I so appreciate you being along for the ride. Telling this story wouldn't be the same without you and I love you all so, so much ❤️❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton

[morningstarequestrian]

"Ladies and Gentlemen, are ye prepared for an extraordinary journey? Our latest Custom Content Carriage Tack for The Sims 4 propels your draft horses directly into the realm of fashion delight. These pixelated steeds shan't merely pull carriages; they shall also command attention – with grace, merriment, and a dash of virtual elegance. Verily, your Sims' horses deserve naught but the utmost refinement, do they not?"

This Set Contains:

Carriage Harness Body (28 swatches)

Carriage Harness Body - Draft Fit (fitted to work with Walnuthill’s Draft Body Overlay, 28 swatches)

Carriage Harness Body V2 (28 swatches)

Carriage Harness Body V2 - Draft Fit (fitted to work with Walnuthill’s Draft Body Overlay, 28 swatches)

Carriage Harness Body V3 (28 swatches)

Carriage Harness Body V3 - Draft Fit (fitted to work with Walnuthill’s Draft Body Overlay, 28 swatches)

Carriage Bridle with Blinders (24 swatches)

Braided Mane with Ribbon (30 swatches)

Braided Tail with Ribbon (30 swatches)

Mane Ribbon Overlay(hat acc) - changes the color of the ribbon in the mane can be found in hat acc’s (22 swatches)

Tail Ribbon Overlay(tail acc) - changes the color of the ribbon on the tail can be found in tail acc’s (22 swatches)

Draft Horse Deco (edit and recolour of .obj’s mesh, it can now be equipped with any mane style! 26 swatches)

Draft Feathers (a feather edit of ea’s short feathers, 76 swatches)

Draft Feathers V2 - bigger version (76 swatches)

Draft Feathers V3 - biggest version (76 swatches)

Harness Versions:

*Notes: This is a BIG one. There was so much trial and error involved and from time to time i wanted to scrap the whole thing but nonetheless here it is. I have worked quite some time on this and it has teached me a whole lot (especially about weight painting) and I hope You’ll like it as much as I do! :D

A big thank you again to @objuct and their open T.O.U. You can Check out his original Draft-Set here

Here are some Links to amazing creators and their carriages:

There is a wonderful wooden carriage in this set by @lilis-palace! You can find the set here

Also @batsfromwesteros has a few absolutely stunning carriages for anyone who likes to see some royal carriages in their game! You can find them here and here

Another Royal coach including some Poses an more by @melonsloth that can be found here

Doctors Buggy by the amazing Agressivekitty can be found here

And here are some Links to Carriage Builds that you can download from the Gallery! These are all beyond insane and well made so I recommend to check them out! 😊

The witch’s caravan by @simsphonysims can be found here

The awe infusing magical carriage by @satisimbuilds can be downloaded from the gallery (no cc) Origin ID: SatiSim

They have made a video of their build you can check it out here

And last but not least The Sims 4 Horse Ranch Big Sky Reach Covered Wagon(no cc) by schnuck Origin ID: schnuck01

They also made a stunning video on their build! You can watch it here

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Known Issues:There is still some clipping on the harness in some poses…I found I can live with that, for now I won’t touch the weights and uv’s anymore.

And unfortunately due to the limited wearable categories of items for horses the ribbon overlay acc and the draft deco acc are not compatible..I tried a version were the ribbon overlay can be put I the leg wrap category so it won’t contradict the deco as hat acc but the game didn’t seem to like that combination…so all I’m left with is to accept it for now as it works just fine with the mane just not the overlay.

As always If I find a way to resolve this I will update the files.

Let me know if you experience any Issues!

Enjoy 💜

DOWNLOAD: Patreon

[mothdruid]

Love in the Saddle

pairing: Rhett Abbott x fem!reader

summary: the two of you didn't mean to forget about valentine's day, but to make up for it you decided to have a day of riding together.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: fluff!!!! allusions to smut at the end

a/n: happy valentine's day!!

A loud huff passed through the air of the barn. You chuckled and ran the front cinch through the buckle, tugging it lightly after Teaspoon let out another huff. It was a shockingly warm day out, which was good for you and the horses. Teaspoon shook her head from side to side for a moment. Her auburn hair shook about, catching small bits of sunlight through the doorway.

“That so?” You finished the front cinch before moving to the chest strap. You buckled the chest strap into place, having made sure it was snug but not too tight on her. Teaspoon stomped her front right hoof lightly on the dirt. “Excited for the sun? Cause trust me, I bet Sterling is too.”

There hasn't been much sun around within the last few months. Snow had been dusting the ground for months, making it hard to take the horses out. It wasn’t that you couldn’t, it’s just neither you or Rhett were fans of long cold rides. You kept their exercise up though, letting them out into the gated field and taking them into the big round pen. You had been taking them on actual rides more recently since the snow had started to melt, leaving cleared areas of pasture for long rides.

Which is what was happening today. A long ride with Rhett. The two of you hadn’t had a lot of time lately for each other. Rhett had been helping more and more at his parents' place. Royal had started to pester Rhett about needing to get the cattle out on the pastures. Which Rhett hadn’t had too much of an issue with at first, but then it changed into helping with rebuilding fixtures and god knows what else. You had been busy with your own work as well, doing some land survey and mapping. By the time the both of you were home, you were both beat and just wanted to melt into the bed.

By the time Valentine’s Day rolled around you were both flustered, having forgotten. So, Rhett made it a point that the following weekend would be a weekend for the two of you. No jobs, no family, no responsibilities except for each other.

You grabbed the back cinch, pulling it up and tightening it, then threading it through the buckle. After placing the bridle on her head, placing the bit in her mouth and draping reins back around her neck, you gave her a pat of encouragement.

“That’s my girl,” you praised, rubbing her neck.

Rhett was still in town, that you knew of, having said that he had a few errands to run. You took it upon yourself to saddle the horses up, wanting to get right into the quality time he had promised you. You couldn’t help it. You missed him, missed your big strong cowboy. Missed his gruff and grit, and the way it all melted away for you. That soft man that not everyone got to see, the one that came out for you and only you. The goofy little smile he gave you when you laughed a little too hard, or the way he would encapsulate you in the kitchen and sway with you back and forth. Yeah, you missed the sex and being physical regularly. But you really just missed him.

“Stay,” you told Teaspoon after leading her outside.

Sterling was more than excited for you to pull him out. He let out a loud whinny, and shook his head. You smiled and gave him a few pats of excitement. A part of you thought that the horses might be more excited about the little ride today than you or Rhett. You have Sterling a sugar cube, the same you had done with Teaspoon after pulling her out. You had placed the saddle pad and turned around to get the saddle when you saw him. You hadn’t even heard the truck pull in.

“Saddling my horse now?” Rhett let out in his gruff voice.

“Hope that’s not a problem,” you chirped back.

“Thought I would be the only thing you ever saddled up,” Rhett started walking towards you, one arm behind his back.

“Well, if you’re lucky I’ll saddle you up later too,” you gave him a wink, “what’re you hiding?” You went over to where you had placed Sterling’s saddle earlier while getting Teaspoon’s out. Just as the leather was about to touch your hands, Rhett stopped you. His calloused hand wrapped around your wrist.

Rhett pulled your attention from the saddle, guiding you to turn towards him. As you turned to him, the arm behind his back came into view. It was a small bundle of flowers, a bundle of wildflowers. There was a simple small cream colored ribbon holding the collection of wildflowers together. You could make out the off white of the baby's breath, bright white and yellow of the daisies, the soft pink of a flower, and some purple tones of lavender. It made your heart swell seeing the flowers in front of you. Rhett had never been one for buying flowers, but he had a habit of buying them for special occasions.

You went to speak, mouth opening only for Rhett to stop you from speaking. “They reminded me of you.”

“Rhett,” his name was the only thing you could say. Maybe it was because you two hadn’t spent any quality, but the swell in your heart had multiplied at his words. Rhett had never been the best with emotions, but you had seen so much from him over the years. “Thank you.”

Rhett smiled softly, leaned forward, and placed a kiss on your cheek. He felt your fingers creep around the base of the bouquet, brushing against his. Rhett could never get over the way how your hands were still so soft compared to his. You always told him that it was because you moisturized, but he was just convinced that you were perfect with or without lotion.

“Go get Teaspoon warmed up,” Rhett nodded towards the Teaspoon, who was now peeking around the corner of the doorway at the two of you.

“‘Kay,” you gave him a smile with a small nod as you fully took the bouquet from him.

The sound of him moving the saddle hit your ears as you got to Teaspoon. You turned for a brief moment to look at him, fastening the front cinch and whispering to Sterling. The words were indecipherable, but you could hear the gruff of his voice no less. A huff broke your train of thought, pulling you back to face Teaspoon. She took a few steps forward only to shake her head up and down. A toothy smile broke out across your face, amused by her response. It was in moments like this that she felt like a child, being able to read the room between parents.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” you chuckled.

Your fingers wrapped around the left side of her bridle, then guided her away from the stable. Her steps were heavy next to you, hooves digging into the barely warmed dirt below her. When you stopped you undid the ribbon around the flowers Rhett had got you. You tied one end of the ribbon tightly around the stems of the flowers, keeping the bundled with as little length needed. The other end of the ribbon was being tied around the horn of your saddle. Once done, you stepped back to look at it.

“How’s that girl?” All Teaspoon did was barely tilt her head in your direction, looking back ahead without a sound. You rolled your eyes, “I’ll take that as a ‘fine’ then.”

You gripped the horn with one hand, grabbed the back of the seat, and placed one of your boots into the left stirrup. After a few readying bounces, you launched yourself up and swung your leg around to get your other boot into the stirrup. After shifting to get a little more comfortable, you gathered the leather reins in your hands. A tug to the right side of the reins had Teaspoon moving, taking heavy step by heavy step in the direction you’d chosen. As you had started to take a lap around the dried out grass, Rhett led Sterling out of the stables.

Rhett adjusted his cowboy hat after getting up in his saddle. A part of you wished he would have left the hat in the stables, hair out on display for you. Either way you knew you’d be seeing it sooner or later. Those light brown locks that had you daydreaming, imagining the feel of them between your fingers and tugging on them ever so lightly. Once he was half way over you noticed him moving towards you. He had one hand on the reins, the other resting on the horn of the saddle.

The two of you happily moved over to the gate, Rhett hopping down to unlatch and open it. After that the two of you took off in the large expanse of pasture. The sun was shining down intensely in the open space. Sterling’s gray mane was shimmering, Teaspoon’s looking like rays of sunshine. There was a soft crunch of dry grass under the hooves of the horses. It was obviously one of the first days of spring peeking through the veil of winter.

It started as a small trot between the two of you, taking your time to just bask in each others presence. It had been a while since you two were allowed to just ruminate with each other. Being able to be out in the pastures again was exhilarating, almost like a kid in a candy store. There was so much space to run and go, it’s like the possibilities were endless. The trot quickly turned into a gallop, then a race. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as your horses sprinted. The flowers Rhett had got you were resting against your knee, bouncing every now and then depending on the gallop. With each small nudge from them you were reminded of why he got them. Once you were finally ahead of him a small bit, you decided to call it.

“I win!” You shouted and looked back at Rhett. He was wearing a frown already, eyebrows knitted together.

“We didn’t even choose a finish spot!” Rhett yelled back amidst tugging on Sterling’s reins.

“Doesn’t matter,” you jested, guiding Teaspoon around and back towards Rhett.

Rhett relaxed back and let out a huff. He stopped Sterling next to you, Rhett’s eyes locked with your own. You feigned an innocent look, trying to act as if you didn’t randomly decide with the race was over. There was a smirk starting to form on Rhett’s face, making one start to form on your own face.

Appreciation was flowing through your veins, keeping your heart beating in that very moment. All you could do was stare at him and take in the features that you had spent days, weeks, months, even years memorizing. No matter what part of life he was at, he was always catching your attention. When the two of you were on the playground in kindergarten, across the lunch room in high school, how he looked after a bull ride, and even now, looking at you with a smile and smitten gaze. You leaned in, hoping he would too.

His lips met yours halfway, closing the gap between the two of you. It was anything intense, the position and space preventing that from happening, but it was loving anyways. Lips ever so soft, especially after he actually started using the lip balm you had bought him. Rhett smelled like it too, honey butter. It was the only scent you thought that wouldn’t be too bothersome. You pulled back slightly, leaving about an inch or two between your face.

“I missed you,” he whispered, as if he didn’t want the horses hearing.

“I missed you too,” you replied, then gave him a soft peck on the lips.

Before he could pull back fully, you snatched his hat off his head, placed it on your own, and took off. After a small chase you both came to a stop. You couldn’t help but smile, a playful thread weaving through you. Rhett stopped Sterling, hopping down, and walking over to you with Sterling’s reins in hand. You followed suit, getting down from Teaspoon and guiding her over near Rhett with you. Rhett looked at his hat on your head, flicking the brim of it up with his finger. His hair was a windblown mess, but you loved it.

“I think you got something of mine,” Rhett’s voice dropped, kindling a fire inside of you.

“Do I? I don’t remember taking anything from you, Mr. Abbott,” you feigned innocence again, something Rhett loved.

“I’m pretty sure you do, ma’ma,” Rhett ducked his head to look below the brim of his hat more. He was practically eye level with you now. “Hat looks pretty familiar t’my own, and y’know what they say ‘bout wearin’ a man’s hat,” he was laying it on thick now, letting his Wyoming drawl seep into his words.

“I don’t think I do,” you cascaded your fingers down his flannel clad chest, “might have to tell me.”

“I think I’d be able to do that,” his free hand snaked around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“You could show me too,” you leaned towards him and ghosted you lips over his.

“Course ma’am, whatever you’d ask of me,” Rhett’s breath was hot against your lips.

Just before you were about to press your lips to his, Sterling let out a loud huff and Teaspoon whinnied. The both of you pulled back a little, chuckling at the horses. Rhett leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek quickly. His hand slipped from your waist, making you miss the warmth of his touch immediately.

“I can tell ‘nd show ya back at home, if you’d like?” Rhett teased, keeping the character up.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer, Mr. Abbott.”

[vivwritesfics]

COMING AT YOU WITH A SOFT BOY RHETT!

He’s working on his ranch when a horse comes onto his land and it’s fully tacked but there is no signs of the rider. It’s spooked but he manages to calm it down and catch it. He’s tacks up his own horse and goes on the search for the missing rider! - nurse-sainz 🥰🥰🥰

I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS SOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING MUCH

Rhett x english rider omg

Rhett Abbott sleeping in his truck was nothing new. He was usually sleeping off a hangover, and that morning was no different. He knew he had chores to do, which might have been why he slept in his truck. Waking up when the run rose (well, that was the goal, but it wasn't always the result).

Today, as with most days, Rhett didn't wake up because of the sun. You'd think he'd be used to the sound of horses, after living on a ranch for his entire life.

But this, this was different. The horses that his father had trained, they didn't stampede towards the house like that. They had been taught better than to come to the house.

Rhette sat up, grabbed the Stetson hat covering his face, and looked out of the truck windows. "Shit," he muttered as he pulled on his shirt, covering up his bull rider tattoo. He placed his Stetson on his head and climbed out of the truck.

There he was, a pretty white horse with a dappling of grey spots on his ass. He was fully tacked up, wearing a saddle, a bridle, and some fancy ass boots around his legs. The mane was plaited, along with the tail.

"Woah there," he said as he approached the horse. Since cantering towards the Abbott house he had stopped to much on the grass. He raised his head towards Rhett, who held his hands up as he approached.

His eye ears went back and he let out a snort. Rhett slowed his steps. He reached his large hand towards the reins. But he couldn't get close enough, not without the horse rearing up. "Little shit," Rhett found himself muttering.

As the horse cantered to the back of the house, Rhett moved his truck, blocking the horse in. He climbed out of his truck and made his way around to the horse that definitely didn't belong here.

As he walked around to the back of the house, the kitchen window opened. "Who's horse is that?" His mother asked.

Rhett shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't seen it before, didn't know there was anything other than cowboys riding around Wabang. He certainly hadn't seen this fancy looking thing in the show jumping saddle.

When Rhett asked his mother for a carrot, she happily handed his over. As soon as Rhett had the carrot, it was easy enough to grab the horse. He was far more interested in the carrot than running away from Rhett. "Who are you?" Rhett asked as he held the reins and stroked down his face.

For a total of five minutes he put the grey horse in the barn while he grabbed his own. As soon as he was mounted, he grabbed the grey ponies reins and rode off.

Rhett was a cowboy. Rhett liked going fast. Rhett's horse was used to galloping across the field until they were out onto the rode. The grey horse was making it near impossible. He stayed at a stubborn walk when Rhett trotted off, stretching his neck out until Rhett could get no further away.

So, Rhett was stuck at a slow walk as he made his way around, looking for anybody that was missing a horse. Most of the usual cowboys, most of the usual other ranch owners, laughed when they saw the fancy pony following him.

Rhett let out a sigh as he began riding along the road towards the Abbott Ranch.

"Sparrow!"

Suddenly, the grey horse was pulling against him. Rhett didn't let go, though. He turned himself around to see a girl. She had a black hat on her head, but not like his Stetson. That one was for safety. Long, shiny black boots were on her feet and she wore these tight, black Jodhpurs.

Definitely not a cowgirl.

She ran over and grabbed a hold of the reins. "Oh, you are in so much trouble," she said and kissed the horses face. "Sparrow, I swear. You gave me a heart attack!" She pulled the hat from her head and tucked it beneath her arm as she kissed the pony a couple more times.

And then she turned to Rhett. He didn't recognise her, not at all. But her face twisted in confusion. "Rhett?" She asked. "Rhett Abbott?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, adjusting his Stetson on his head. "And you are?"

She held out her hand towards him and gave her his name. Rhett shook it. "I've seen you at the rodeo a few times," she said. "I... thank you for finding Sparrow. I thought he was ready to go out alone, but I think somebody needs a little more training," she said and released his hand.

Rhett swallowed. "I think he found me," he answered.

Immediately, her face dropped. "He... he broke onto your ranch?" She asked and Rhett couldn't help but grin as he nodded. "Shit, I'm so sorry!" She cried. "Let me know how I can make it up to you."

Rhett couldn't deny that she was cute. Not his usual type, not the usual cowgirls he had wearing his Stetson and riding his cock. Well, Rhett wanted to know more. "You can let me take you out f' a drink," he said, leaning forward.

He watched as she placed her foot in the metal stirrup (incredibly different from the one his foot was placed into), and climbed up into the saddle. Immediately, Sparrow was moving. He walked in an agitated circle as she tried to stay looking at Rhett. "So, if I want to find you, Sparrow should know where to go?"

"An' you can give me your number. Y'know, in case he forgets."

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VII ║Fleabitten

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ Part 6: Mustang | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You and Jack spend your last night together in the mountains - for now.

Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, handjob, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.2k

Notes: I know I made you guys wait for this one, I'm sorry it took so long! It's no secret that I'm dragging my feet because I don't want this packtrip to be over, but we all have to brave and face the inevitable 🥺 I hope you enjoy spending the last night in the mountains with Jack and his Darlin' ❤️

Fleabitten: A colour consisting of a white hair coat with small pigmented speckles or freckles.

You’ve never considered yourself a creature of habit. 

You have your routines, of course. But habit is more. It’s a dependency, emotional and physical. It’s something that’s hard to give up. It’s a prickle under the skin that is only soothed when said habit is fulfilled.

Surely, habit is hewn over time. A quiet, imperceptible chipping away at your bones until it becomes part of you. It must take more than a week to make a habit out of something. 

Except, it feels a lot like habit when you wake up to pink skies and take your first breath of sweet mountain air to start the day. That first mug of coffee warmed over rekindled embers from the night before. How Scotch always prances into a little canter to warm up when you hop on, but not until he knows you’re fully sat with the tips of your toes through the stirrups irons.

It’s the way you angle the brim of your hat and flip up the collar of your shirt even before the sun hits just so. It’s the all-consuming awe that pins you to the spot, wherever you are, whatever you’re in the middle of, when the sunset paints every inch of earth in rose gold.

And for the past three nights, it’s the assuring weight of strong arms around your waist that has lulled you to sleep, the kiss of warm breath on your temple - a familiarity that runs too deep in too short a time for you to comprehend.

Habit.

It’s the sixth day of the pack trip - first thing tomorrow, just after breakfast, Jack will be leading you across the mountain, back the way you came, to get back to the ranch by mid-afternoon.

Words are scarce when the two of you approach the last Statesman campsite on the trail, the neat stone pit now a familiar sight.

Even the horses are subdued. Scotch stands obediently, flicking his tail while you untack him, when he would usually be nudging at your hands with his velvety nose, snickering for a cheeky apple slice before supper.

It’s second nature to you now, hanging the sweaty saddle pad on a low-hanging branch to dry before setting the saddle and bridle on the wooden post for cleaning. Jack follows, standing on the other side, handing you a wet rag. You get to work, scrubbing out the grime and sweat from the well-worn leather.

His eyes are on you, a phantom weight on your shoulders - they’re not exactly sore, having grown used to long hours in the saddle over the week, but you are tired, albeit the good kind. One that a good, long soak in a hot bubble bath would fix, with a certain cowboy in the same tub -

‘Whatcha smilin’ ‘bout, Darlin’?’

Glancing up, you match his arched eyebrow with one of yours, planting your elbows on the spine of the saddle and standing onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his. Well, a portable shower ain’t the same, but -

‘Shall we clean up, cowboy?’

Jack groans deep into your neck, the taste of soap thick on his tongue.

‘Is this how you jerked off thinking about me that first day?’ you tease, your grip sliding slickly along his cock.

‘Oh fuck,’ he pants, brow scrunched up in pleasure-pain, scraping his teeth on your collar bone. ‘Didn’t feel half as good, darlin’.’

A moan slips from you when one large palm finds your backside and squeezes, his fingers digging into the plump flesh as he whimpers by your ear. Bowing his head, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking on your sensitive skin until you arch into his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to come all over your hand - sticky, milky strands slipping thickly down the gaps of your fingers, stringing between them like spider webs. You’re reluctant to let go, humming soothingly into his ear as the last of his orgasm shudders through his body.

He holds you tight, his heart a sharp staccato against your chest, as the slow trickle of lukewarm water washes away all traces of him.

Once the portable shower is empty, you take your time getting dressed. Jack wipes you down with your towel while you rub his hair dry with his. Walking back to camp hand in hand, you grin when the horses come into sight, chasing and egging each other on like puppies at the dog park.

Thousand-pound puppies, more like. 

Dropping the dirty laundry by a tree to be packed later, he whistles with his fingers. ‘C’mon boys, supper time!’

The trio line up smartly by the wooden post as Jack preps the feed, measuring out the grain and hay pellets by sight, filling their buckets. Their nostrils flare and ears prick up at the sight of their dinner, but other than a stray nicker or two, they remain impressively patient.

Their buckets are dropped in front of their hooves when he’s done, and you may be imagining the sharp intake of air as the horses await the okay from their cowboy.

At his nod, all three practically lunge at their supper, munching happily. You laugh, and Jack watches on proudly.

A quiet desperation slinks in when you’re not looking, winding tighter and tighter around your ribs like a vice that leaves you short of breath as the minutes and hours slip by. You’re restless, your legs bouncing in agitation, your eyes darting about, frantically trying to commit everything to memory, yet never lingering anywhere long enough to do so.

But it’s not really about the things you can see. It’s the bitter bite of smoke in the clean mountain air. It’s the orange heat of the campfire that you wear like a favourite cardigan. It’s the simplicity of getting from point A to point B, with nothing but grassland and forest in between.

But real life isn’t simple. Things that you vowed to push to the back of your mind at the beginning of the trip bubble to the surface for an unwelcome moment. You have bills to pay. You have a deadweight of a house to sell. You have an ex not pulling his weight -

‘Darlin’?’

The white noise that you weren’t even aware had filled your ears subsides, and your gaze snaps up to Jack, blinking. The weight of the knife in your hand comes back to you, and you glance down at the bell pepper you were in the middle of dicing up.

You give him a shaky smile and carry on with your errand. ‘Sorry.’

He brushes a thumb on your cheek. ‘You were thinkin’ mighty loud.’

Not wanting to dampen your last night together, you shake your head and lean over to kiss him. You huff, ‘Just hungry. Get cooking, cowboy.’

Jack knows you’re fibbing, but he says no more. He can admit to himself that you’re not the only one struggling with loud thoughts tonight.

You’re right, he should turn his focus to making dinner instead - chili and cornbread, classic southern comfort food. Lord knows the both of you can do with some comfort tonight.

‘Want to help me with the cornbread?’ he asks, knowing you’d want to keep your hands busy.

‘Damn, I sure miss the days when you insisted that I shouldn’t help with anything at all,’ you tease, which makes him chuckle.

‘C’mere, darlin’.’

He’d measured out the dry ingredients for the cornbread back at the Halfway House and tipped it all into a mason jar - flour, cornmeal and raising agents. You whisk the batter with a fork as he cracks in three eggs and pours in the milk (he usually uses buttermilk, but it has to be shelf stable milk on the trail) until it’s smooth and thin. You carefully pour the mixture into a well-oiled cast iron skillet, which he then nestles in the heart of the fire. The batter bubbles like slow-burning lava as it cooks, the savoury sweetness filling the evening air.

‘That’ll cook in a half hour, so we should start on the chili,’ he says. ‘I normally simmer it for at least an hour, but I think we’re both hungry, right?’

‘I’m fine with express chili, cowboy.’

Jack sets a deep-set saucepan on the pit, drizzling in olive oil to preheat it. He knows the recipe by heart, but with no fresh beef mince on hand, he has his usual substitutions when cooking it on the trail. Into the pan goes finely diced cured sausage, onion, red bell peppers, peeled carrot ribbons and celery.

‘Is that Poppy’s recipe?’ you ask, tummy rumbling at the vivid scents as the pan sizzles.

‘It’s my mama’s, actually,’ he smiles, stirring with a wooden spoon. ‘It’s the one recipe Poppy allows on the trail that is not hers.’

‘If that isn’t a stamp of approval, I don’t know what is,’ you chuckle. ‘And where’s your mama?’

‘Still lives with my old man back home in Kentucky,’ he answers, scraping in minced garlic, a good squeeze of tomato paste and one big can of plum tomatoes, which he crushes one by one with the back of the spoon.

‘What do they do?’ you ask, genuinely curious. His family hasn’t come up in conversation in the past few days.

Jack is happy to indulge you. ‘Pop used to run a little corner shop in town, but he’s retired now. My ma’s an equine veterinarian, used to have a practice, but she shut that down a few years ago and is mostly a lady of leisure nowadays.’

You nudge his shoulder with yours. ‘Horses run in the family, I see.’

‘Never stood a chance,’ he jokes. ‘She still helps out on my uncle’s farm if they need an extra pair of hands. My cousins mostly run the place nowadays.’

The saucepan sputters at the generous pouring of barbeque sauce (homemade of course, Poppy’s secret recipe) that goes in next, followed by a can of beer, a beef stock cube (crumbled), Worcestershire sauce, balsamic vinegar and honey.

‘Are your parents from the same town?’

‘No, ma’s from the city, moved to the backwaters to marry my country bumpkin daddy,’ he replies, flashing you a meaningful smile. 

Your cheeks heat up unbidden, and you bite your bottom lip, the shyness that rears its head  feeling very alien after being so comfortable around this cowboy for these few days. You meet his eyes though, cocking your head to one side. ‘Is that so?’

He grins, stirring the chili as he continues. ‘My papaw Henry nearly disowned her, didn’t even go to the weddin’, but he came round when I was born. Turned out he got on with my other grandpa Noah like a house on fire. They used to come and spend a week in the mountains with Champ and I every year before Henry passed.’

You reach out and squeeze his free hand. ‘And where is Noah now?’

‘He lives in a little cabin off the main house with my uncle. Can barely walk, but he still rides every morning,’ he shakes his head fondly, tipping in the drained kidney and black beans.

He’s quiet for a moment as he studies the chili, simmering away, then gives you a sidelong glance. Despite a deliberate attempt to keep his tone light, the weight of his words cannot be erased by simple inflection. ‘I’m sure they’d love to meet you, darlin’.’

But as soon as he hears himself - the absurd wishful thinking in it - he shifts in his seat awkwardly, clearing his throat. You fuckin’ clown. How is this appropriate conversation when he’s known you for six days? Hell, you’d only just started sleeping together what, three nights ago? Fuck, has it only been three - ?

Two gentle fingers hook under his chin, turning his face towards you, cutting off the jumble of voices in his head. You shuffle closer so that you’re pressed right up against his side, warm and soft, and when you kiss him slowly and sweetly, it tastes like reassurance. 

‘I’d love that too, cowboy.’

The chili is the best you’ve ever had - smoky, spicy and balanced out with a touch of sweetness from the barbeque sauce. The cornbread fresh from the skillet is so moreish, there’s nothing but crumbs left in the skillet when the two of you are done.

You’re close to bursting, sprawled lazily on your sleeping bag, your back propped up against a log. The fire has died down to a low-burning flame, and you’re right on the brink of nodding off. 

But as it turns out, Jack still has a trick or two up his sleeves. 

He reaches over you to grab one of the saddlebags, rifling around and you laugh as he unveils, one after the other - a bag of jumbo marshmallows, Graham crackers, and a bar of dark chocolate. 

‘Can’t say I pegged you for a s’mores kinda cowboy,’ you tease as he lays out the ingredients on the ground. 

‘It’s a Statesman tradition, we always close out a pack trip with s’mores. C’mon, I’ll show you how to make a proper one.’

You huff a laugh. ‘Oh, are we really going there?’

He feigns ignorance. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am?’

‘The shortest way to an argument is anything to do with s’mores.’

‘Don’t worry darlin’, I’m sure we’ll kiss and make up.’

Jack gets up and steps briefly out of the orange halo of the campfire to rustle up a couple of sticks for the marshmallows. Knees creaking as he sits down next to you, he pulls out the knife from the holster he wears on the back of his jeans, sharpening the wooden ends with a telling familiarity.

The chocolate bar is wrapped in fancy, gilded packaging, the words organic and bean to bar glowing gold in the firelight as you turn it over in your hands. ‘Huh. No Hershey’s?’

The cowboy waggles one perfectly pointed end of a stick at you in warning. ‘Rule number one - do not mention the H word in front of Poppy. You will be evicted and barred from the state of Wyoming till kingdom come.’

‘Oh, I believe you,’ you chuckle, tearing into the packaging and breaking up the chocolate into tidy squares along the grooves.

Sheathing his knife, Jack reaches for the saddle bag once again. ‘Can’t forget the secret ingredient.’

You blink in incredulity at what he brandishes, the familiar whiff registering. ‘Is that - applewood?’

He winks, testing the weight of the logs in his hands. ‘The applewood infuses the marshmallows with a sweet smokiness - I’m tellin’ you, the Statesman s’mores is somethin’ else.’

With a shake of your head, you grin. ‘Alright cowboy, show me how to make some proper s’mores.’

Twenty minutes later, you wish you could take it back.

‘Scientific’ doesn’t even begin to describe Jack’s process. You’re huddled in a blanket, hugging your knees, watching as he turns over the marshmallows with methodological precision and infinite patience - neither of which you possess. He’d confiscated yours when you tried to stick them straight into the flames, declaring that you’re unfit to make your own s’mores.

The night air is singed with the delicate note of apple blossoms, while four chocolate squares slowly warm on graham crackers where they sit on stones around the campfire. 

You sit poutily, glaring at the fluffy white blobs that look just as pale as they were straight out of the bag.

‘I could’ve made about three s’mores by now,’ you gripe.

Jack doesn’t look up from the fire, but the corner of his mouth curls in amusement. ‘You’re on holiday, remember? Relax. Patience is a virtue, darlin’.’

You tilt your head in a challenge. ‘Do you really think I give a damn about virtue, cowboy?’

His grin turns brash, eyes crinkling mischievously at the corners. ‘No, ma’am, and I thank my lucky stars that you don’t.’

‘C’mon Jack,’ you whine. ‘Let's just eat the stupid s’mores and go to bed.’

‘Good things take time,’ he says simply. And then, with the minutest flex of his tone, he changes tact. ‘Will you be a good girl for me and be patient?’

You watch his smile widen as he obviously hears your breath hitch.

Biting your lip, you goad him, ‘Oh, is that how you’re going to play it, sir?

The gentleman in him recedes, and the rake glimpses through in the way he eyes you with a deliberately smarmy want. ‘I don’t hear you complainin’ when I take my time with you, darlin’.’

Your mouth hangs open in affront. ‘Are you seriously comparing me to roasted marshmallows?’

He leans over and purrs into your ear. ‘Well, your pussy is just as sweet, and soft, and warm -’

You groan and push him hard on the shoulder. ‘Thanks ruining marshmallows for me, cowboy!’

With a laugh, Jack nods towards the fire. ‘Grab the graham crackers please, darlin’. They're done.’

Sure enough, while you were distracted, the fluffy white blobs are finished with a perfect, golden crust, but have enough structural integrity to hold shape on the ends of the sticks.

‘You ready?’ he prompts.

A graham cracker in each hand, one with chocolate and the other without, you admit, ‘I hate this part, I always make such a mess.’

He smirks, ‘Didn’t think you minded makin’ a mess, darlin’.’

You roll your eyes at him, with no real annoyance. ‘You’re insufferable, cowboy.’

Cushioining one marshmallow on the chocolate side of the cracker, he instructs, ‘Now put the other one on top and grip the whole stack firmly. Got it?’

At your nod, Jack carefully extracts the stick, wriggling as he goes, one thumb against the end to keep the marshmallow from sliding out.

With a dramatic flourish, he ta-das. ‘There you go, a Statesman s’mores for my cowgirl.’

Something in your brain short-circuits at him calling you his cowgirl. 

Not just his. 

But the cowgirl to his cowboy.

Unable to conjure up any words, you fixate on the melted marshmallow on his thumb. Grabbing his hand and bringing it to your face, you wrap your lips around it, sucking the sweet smear of residue right off his smoke-tipped finger.

His gaze is dark even as the red and yellow flickers in his eyes when he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, his voice a soft rasp. 

‘Good girl.’

‘So - what happens tomorrow?’

Your question is quiet, half murmured into the hollow of his neck in the twilight zone, on the cusp of sleep. Your head is tucked under his chin, his arms around your waist under the blanket.

‘We’ll get back to the ranch around three. The team will get the horses settled in, unpack everything, and you can have a nice hot shower. Then we’ll have sunset drinks and dinner.’

You hum noncommittally. The silence cackles for a beat, before you venture, ‘And then?’

For once, Jack doesn’t have an answer.

He doesn’t sleep that night. 

He holds you close, running a calloused palm against your back when you shift restlessly in your sleep, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his own.

The sun rises pink and gentle. This camping spot was a deliberate choice - it hangs over a small slope, facing east with an open view of the plains below, where the horses are dozing, the Bighorn rising from the horizon straight ahead. 

He must have drifted off without him noticing, because he wakes up to your lips on his.

He blinks, lids heavy with slumber. ‘Mornin’.’

You smile through hooded eyes, cording your fingers through his hair. ‘Morning, cowboy. It’s a pretty sunrise for our last day in the mountains.’

‘Who says it’s our last, darlin’?’

His challenge lingers between you, the tension sinking its hooks into his skin and pulling - until you close the gap and kiss him. 

It’s sloppy, clumsy, teeth clunking against teeth - it’s too damn early - and he pushes you back to nip and suck his way down your neck, undoing the top three buttons on his flannel that you’ve taken to wearing to bed before pushing it over your head.

‘Jack,’ you whine as his hands push your tits together, smearing open-mouthed kisses all over them.

‘Fuck,’ he grunts, the harsh sound catching in his throat. Grinding his cock between your thighs, his big hands push your panties down in a hazy frenzy, followed by his sweats, which he kicks off blindly.

‘Please,’ you choke out, voice breaking as your soft, naked body arches into him.

He hushes you, breath hot and heavy in your ear, teasing his length slickly between the wet lips of your pussy. ‘Yeah? Desperate for this cock, are you, darlin’?’

Through a broken moan, you whimper, ‘Yes, please please please, Jack -’

‘So pretty beggin’ for me,’ he grins, but he knows it probably looks more like a pained grimace as he trembles above you. You're soaking the curls at the bottom of his cock even though he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

‘Please, want you inside me, cowboy -’

He holds out, letting the arousal swell and mount between you with a recklessness that is unlike him, demanding, ‘How, darlin’?’

‘Hard, want you to fuck me hard -’

Rolling you onto your side so that he brackets you from behind, he opens you up with one hand under your right knee, pushing it against your front so that he can see your dripping cunt. Running his thumb over it, you jerk in his hold, moaning for him. ‘Jack, please -’

‘What did I say about patience bein’ a virtue, hmm?’ he teases through gritted teeth, dipping one finger shallowly into you, which is enough to make you keen.

You’re babbling incoherently as he lines himself up against your entrance. ‘Fuck me, please, need you inside me -’

You break off into a strangled sob when he pushes the blunt tip of his cock into you, a hoarse groan in his windpipe as he feels you stretch around him. It feels different, more intense, but his sleep-clouded brain can’t grasp why. He pumps into you slowly and deliberately, eyes screwed shut as your cunt squeezes him, his fingers sure to leave marks where they hold onto the swell of your hips.

‘So - so good, Jack,’ you pant.

‘Yes, darlin’,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, fucking you in firm strokes now, palming your tits from behind. ‘This gorgeous pussy grippin’ me so tight, gettin’ so wet on my big cock.’

‘Only for you,’ you declare, rolling your hips so he hits a particularly deep spot inside you.

‘For me,’ he echoes with a groan, planting one foot on the ground to fuck into you harder.

Snaking one hand between your legs - hot and sticky - two thick fingers find your clit, drawing back the hood to rub circles where you can really feel him.

‘Fuck!’ you exclaim, almost bending backwards.

‘Good girl, takin’ me so well,’ he cooes into your ear. ‘She’s goin’ to cum on my cock, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, Jack,’ you whine, getting impossibly wet now. You leak messily down your thighs as he feels you begin to clench around him, your voice running ragged. ‘Please, sir -’

He fucks you through it, jaw clenched so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t crack under the pressure, his hands holding you down as you buck and writhe.

‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he growls into your cheek, his pace slackening to a languid rhythm. ‘Do you hear yourself? Hear that drippin’ pussy when I fuck it nice and slow?’

Turning over your shoulder, you kiss him, pupils completely blown as you slur drunkenly against his lips, ‘Yes, cowboy. S’ fucking good.’

Jack smiles and he sucks on your bottom lip, you’re so wet that he barely has to roll his hips to sink deep into you.

But even as he lets the moment consume him, something niggles at the back of his mind. It feels too good, as if there's some detail he’s missing - 

And then it strikes him, like lightning on a clear day. Every joint and muscle in his body locks up when it does, and he feels you stiffen instantly in response. His words tumble out in a panicked jumble. ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck! I forgot the condom, shit, I’m so sorry darlin’ -’

When he tries to pull out of you, you hook one foot around his shin and stop him with a hand on his hips. ‘Wait, Jack - just wait.’

He shakes his head in confusion. ‘Wait - why?’

Twisting around so that you’re looking him in the eye, you tell him quietly, ‘I got tested after my ex and I broke up, and - I haven’t been with anyone since.’

While he takes a moment to process, his cock throbs almost painfully inside you. He answers, ‘I haven’t had unprotected sex since my last girlfriend, and I got tested afterwards as well.’

You smile, one hand finding his and slipping your fingers into the gaps between his. ‘I’m just - I’m not on the pill, so we can keep going as long as you don’t cum inside me.’

‘Fuck, darlin’, it's dangerous, talkin' about me cummin’ inside you like that,’ he chides, brow creased in mock reprimand.

You wink. ‘We’ll save that for next time, cowboy.’

‘Next time,’ he promises, with a determination that soothes the anxiety in him.

And so your breaths mist and intertwine, catching the morning light as he thrusts into you, again and again. He doesn’t know where this will go, except for the vow of a next time, but he knows he has this -

The orange wash of dawn over you, his spend on the soft skin of your stomach and your beautiful tits when he cums, his heart beating - hard and sure - with what has deserted him for long years.

Notes: I didn't have as much time to edit this chapter, and I'm still trying to get more comfortable with spending less time overall on both writing and edits, and being more ok with mistakes/typos. The flip side is that what goes on the metaphorical paper is more spontaneous.

There will only be two more chapters before Palomino wraps up. Thank you for sticking around and for being so supportive despite the slow updates recently. It's strange that we're approaching the end for real now, excited isn't quite the right word, but I am looking forward to giving this story the ending Jack, Darlin' and you guys deserve ❤️

Thank you for the love. Comments, reblogs and asks are always appreciated, as always 🥰

Update: I can’t believe I forgot to mention a huge thank you to everyone who gave me all the cool tips for the s’mores and ideas for their last dinner on the trail! This one is for you guys 😘