#cowboy!thor

[jayankles]

Save a Horse

Pairing: Cowboy!Thor x Cowgirl!Reader

For @mcukinkbingo​

Square Filled: Cowgirl

[picassho-18]

Thor & # 3 & 12

Thor + western + “How about we forget this ever happened, please?”

***

It wasn’t often that someone rode into town. And it was extremely rare that it was a man followed by a group of shooting lawmen.

The cloud of dust was huge, caused by the many horse hooves, and was seen minutes before the figures were even visible. The single horsemen was a good mile ahead, and when he came closer to your little town he immediately went for the closest building. Yours.

The man’s horse was heaving, sweating heavily as he turned it rapidly into the open barn next to your house. Just as soon, you saw him leave, guns in his hands as he looked back at the law man far away but still approaching. A bang sounded as he crashed into a door going into your house.

Frozen by the window of the second story, you heard him shuffling underneath you. Clanging loudly, before hollering out, “Is anybody home?!” His voice has a gruffiness to it, yet sounded full of pain.

Slowly, you walked down the stairs, peaking to catch a glimpse of the man. Now that he was so close, you saw that his entire arm was soaking red. With ragged clothes, he was slumped on your wooden chair, his hand clutching his arm. His guns were on the table, while he was breathing heavily. And was that a hammer you spotted on his belt?

Shyly, you spoke out, “Um, sir. Are you okay?”

His head whipped around to face you. Now you had a clear view of his face. It was ruggedly beautiful. Like a perfect face but enhanced with a few scars and a couple days old scruff.

His blue eyes twinkled when he saw you, “Goodie” he laughed, “Now would you be so kind as to stitch up a stranger in need?”

You’re breath caught at his suggestion, “Uh…” you said nervously, not sure what to do, before looking at your front window as the group of men got closer on their horses, “Aren’t those men after you?” 

“I have a good few minutes ahead of them. Plus they couldn’t have seen what house I barged in on. The bleeding has stopped a bit, and I’ve already gotten the bullet out. A few stitches would do me wonders.” he asked again, lifting up his shirt to show a bullet wound on his arm, and gave you a cocky wink.

At the sight of the wound, you sprang into action. You ran into the kitchen, grabbing a needle, thread, and a bottle of liquor. With your teeth, you popped it open, and generously splashed it over his arm.

He grunted at the sudden burn, before taking his long sleeve off completely with his other arm, and propped up the injured arm on the table. His long golden hair swung with the movement, slightly matted with blood and dirt.

“Alright” you began apprehensively, “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.” Quickly, rushed by the quickly approaching men and the fact that ever since you had seen the handsome man in your house, you’ve had nervous butterflies in your stomach.

Also you began to use the needle and thread to haphazardly stitch the wound closed, he grunted in pain, before grabbing the bottle of liquor off the table and chugged.

“So uh,” you looked up at the man, his eyes were clouded with pain as the needle was pulling at his skin, yet he kept a smile on his face. As if he considered himself happy and lucky within the mess that he was currently in. “What did you do to get into this situation?”

“Oh I just robbed a stagecoach.” he said simply, as if that cleared up everything in the world.

“Okay…” you said, deciding to not act as if he just confessed to a serious crime.

He chuckled again at your response, but not before groaning as you finished up his stitches, “Not everyone can make an honest living.” You finished wrapping a fresh bandage around the wound, securing the fabric with a knot.

“I understand” you responded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I must say, outlaws are particularly handsome.”

He grinned at you, maintaining the steady eye contact. Your heart may or may not have skipped a beat.

The moment was interrupted as the loud sound of running horses erupted outside your house. His bright blue eyes widened, getting up and poking his head around the drawn curtains, looking as the men on horseback whipped past, running into the small town.

He began to go for the door, but you stopped him, your hand holding onto his muscular arm, “Wait. I didn’t even get your name!”

A sad smile crossed his face, before he solemnly replied, “How about we forget this ever happened, please?”

You sucked in a breath, before nodding. Then the cowboy you would never see again walked out of your backdoor.