#cowboy reader

[abstractpyschopomp]

[redcoralpot]

Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader

Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.

Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.

A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.

Word Count: 1.8K

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Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.

The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink. 

“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”

Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”

“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”

A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.” 

She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”

You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice. 

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”

As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”

Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.

“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.

You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”

“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”

“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”

Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.

You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”

“Like you?”

“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”

He paused, “Ah.”

“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”

Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”

…

“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.

He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right. 

Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.

Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.

Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss. 

You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”

“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.

His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color. 

Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”

Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.

The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.

You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?

In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”

Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.

“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”

For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.

You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”

“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”

“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate. 

The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.

Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.

When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare. 

-

Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Imagine cowboy!reader walking into the bullpen and just seeing everyone crowded around JJ’s desk, going to see what they’re looking at and it’s just pictures of him as a teenager with THE FULL cowboy get up™️ on

Hiya! This is an amazing request thank you so much for sending it in, I appreciate all requests! Also cowboy reader in the photo is wearing the full cowboy get up, I did research it but please (as always) let me know if I get anything wrong :)

Description: JJ gets a hold of a picture from cowboy's younger years

Warnings: None

Taglist:

@chubbyboyinflannel @xweirdo101x @ara-a-bird @supercriminalbean @pendragon-writes

@technikerin23 @migwayne @criminalskies @oddmiles @1s3v3n1

@kevyeen @heidss @honestlycasualarcade @caffeine-mess @stealing-kneecaps

@woodandwaxwings @wizardmon3 @aphroditeslovr @ducks118 @azeal-peal

@13thdoctor-run @introvertpan84 @goth-boi-atlas @iliketozoneout @chaosofmanyfandoms

@logicalhorror @luvfornick @prmsn-17 @pinxeajin @silas-aeiou

You walked into the bullpen with a sigh, clutching a Tupperware box of freshly baked cookies.

"Hey guys, what's goin' on?" You asked, placing the cookies on your desk, your hat to follow.

"We have found a work of art." Garcia declared, face lighting up. "We have found the most magnificent thing to ever exist."

You smile slightly at her before you look at the rest of the team, noticing the particularly proud expressions they all held whilst crowded around JJ's desk.

"What's really goin' on?" You asked, giving JJ a raised eyebrow.

She smiled sheepishly at you, turning around what she was holding. A photo. Of you, aged sixteen, seventeen, decked out completely in all things cowboy. You were wearing a denim button down shirt, denim jeans, a belt with a large belt buckle, cowboy boots (with spurs, obviously), and a cowboy hat.

"Oh my good lord." You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How did you get that?"

"Aden sent it to me."

"'M gonna kill that brat." You mumbled, cheeks flushing a deep pink.

"Awe, he's blushing."

"Right, that's it." You said, "There's nothing left for me to say except: one, I rocked that look and still do; and two, no cookies for you."

"No cookies?" Spencer asked, face dropped.

You looked at the young agent, "Fine, you can have cookies." You gave a small huff, handing your colleagues the tub of cookies. "I can't believe he actually sent you that."

JJ grinned, and with her voice lighthearted, said: "He's a troublemakers."

"Oh, I'm tempted to ground him."

"That might be a little too far," Morgan chimed.

"It's almost like you don't want any cookies."

[rdmasevi]

Ain’t My First Rodeo

Title: “Ain’t My First Rodeo”: Enhypen fanfiction

Pairing: Ni-ki x Reader Male ( Cowboy)

Genre: Romance | Comedy | Slice of Life | Slow Burn |

Warnings: None

Summary: Global K-pop group ENHYPEN attends a rodeo to support Ni-ki, who’s secretly obsessed with the star cowboy performer—you. The only problem? You have no clue who they are and couldn’t care less. But when a flustered, stammering Ni-ki approaches backstage, sparks fly—quietly, awkwardly, and with a whole lot of cowboy charm.

The sun had just dipped below the Texas horizon, casting golden hues across the open arena where the night’s rodeo was about to begin. The stands buzzed with chatter, boots thumped on wooden bleachers, and the smell of leather, dust, and funnel cake lingered in the air.

Among the crowd, a group of seven sat huddled near the front, sunglasses and caps pulled low despite the fading light.

ENHYPEN. Global sensations. Pop idols. Not exactly the usual rodeo crowd.

“Are we… really doing this?” Sunghoon whispered, eyeing the arena skeptically.

“Ni-ki wanted to come,” Heeseung said with a shrug. “We’ve been touring nonstop—figured he earned it.”

Jay leaned over. “You sure this isn’t just about that cowboy guy?”

“Shut up,” Ni-ki mumbled, pulling his hoodie lower.

Jake grinned. “You’ve been watching his videos on loop for days.”

“Shut up.”

The lights cut. A hush fell. Then the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers:

“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for tonight’s star performer—the one, the only—Maverick.”

The gate swung open. A dark horse bolted into the arena, and on its back sat a man in a weathered black Stetson, low over his eyes. Dressed in all black—snakeskin boots, silver-spurred heels, and a denim duster whipping in the wind—he was a walking Western fantasy.

You.

And you didn’t even flinch at the cheering crowd. Not when the horse kicked up dust, not when girls screamed your name, and certainly not when a global boyband watched from the stands.

You dismounted with practiced ease, swinging down in one fluid motion and tipping your hat to the announcer before walking past the bleachers. Your boots thudded heavy on the wooden ramp. ENHYPEN watched, stunned silent.

Well, except Ni-ki, whose breath hitched audibly when you glanced his way—brief, indifferent, and devastating.

Heeseung nudged him. “You okay?”

Ni-ki’s face turned crimson. “F-f-fine.”

The show continued. Lasso tricks. Bareback riding. Bull dodging. You owned every second like you were born in the dust and raised by thunder. And when it ended, you didn’t stay for autographs. You disappeared behind the gate like smoke—just a shadow in a ten-gallon hat.

But fate—or, more likely, a persistent Ni-ki—had other plans.

Backstage, Ni-ki found himself standing awkwardly near the horse stalls. The rest of the band watched from a distance, pretending to scroll their phones but absolutely eavesdropping.

You were brushing down your horse, sleeves rolled up, muscles tensed with every motion.

Ni-ki swallowed. “H-hey.”

You didn’t look up. “If you’re with the groupies, autograph table’s out front.”

“I’m not— I-I mean— I’m with ENHYPEN.”

This time, you turned. Slow. Measured. You looked him up and down, brow furrowed slightly like the name didn’t register.

“Never heard of it.”

Ni-ki blinked. “W-we’re a band. Um. Big in Korea. And… here. Maybe.”

You arched a brow. “That supposed to impress me?”

Ni-ki shook his head quickly, cheeks burning. “N-no! I—I just… I like your work. You’re… you’re really good. Like, really.”

You studied him, finally pausing with the brush. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not— okay I am.”

You leaned against the stall gate, arms folded. “Don’t get a lotta pop stars out here. You gonna pass out, or you gonna say what you came to say?”

Ni-ki opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

You tilted your head. “Cute.”

He might’ve died right there if Jake hadn’t snorted behind a haystack. You flicked your eyes toward the noise, sighed, and gave Ni-ki the faintest hint of a smirk.

“Tell your boys they can stop spying. And if you wanna hang out with a cowboy, you’re gonna have to stop trippin’ over your own tongue.”

Ni-ki blinked. “You mean—hang out?”

“I mean I get off in ten. Stick around.”

You turned back to your horse like it was nothing.

But to Ni-ki, it was everything.

Back at the van, the rest of the members exploded.

“He talked to you?!”

“What did he say?”

“Did he touch you?”

Ni-ki just smiled—soft, dazed, floating.

“Guys,” he said, voice still trembling. “He called me cute.”

My main masterlist

[thelittleangel]

Cowboys are frequently (secretly) fond of each other.

Tags: Dean Winchester x Cowboy! Reader, fluff, flirting, male reader, soft romance.

Warnings: possibly OOC, no use of Y/N, implied violence toward an animal, references to “taking someone home” (I’ll let you interpret that how you want.), romantic-ish interactions between dean and reader toward the end.

Taglist: @agroovygoose @pumpkinhead666

Walking into the bar, I see heads raise.  I try not to pay them any mind.  I know what kind of impression I give off.  I’m tall, shaggy hair that barely kisses my shoulders, dressed like I just wandered off the set of a Clint Eastwood movie.

I know what kind of expectations I'm supposed to fulfill.  People look at me and they see a cowboy.  A man’s man.  A straight man.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of that entire train of thought.  My dad taught me that if this was the way I was going to live my life, I needed to stop worrying about what others thought of me.  I walk over to the bar and order a beer.  The bartender hands me a frosty bottle.  I put my ring under the cap, tilt the bottle and push.  The cap pops off and I take a swig.  I put my beer on the bar, wrapping my hands around it like it’s a mug of hot coffee.  I look around the bar, watching the people.  

It’s a habit I picked up.  Me and my dad would go to a bar, and he’d order me a Coke and point out all the small details that a quick glance couldn’t catch.  

The woman at the bar had just been divorced, the tan line on her ring finger.  The couple in the booth are cheating on each other, seen by the way they sit.  The man at his table is waiting for his friend, he’s fallen madly in love with him.  

I smile for a moment.  It’s been a few years, but I'm out.  My dad didn’t like that I wanted to leave, but he’d understood.  I got an honest job working at a ranch.  The hours were long, and the work was hard, but I felt like it was a job I could be proud of.

The doorbell rang and a gust of summer air blew into the bar.  I look over at the door.  In walks the most stunning man I've ever seen.  

He was dressed in a suit, with brown hair that almost looked like gold in this light.  Eyes that may have been green, but I couldn't tell from this far away.  Freckles and stubble decorated his face in a way that complemented each other.  

I clear my throat and look away.  A man in a bar like this dressed like that was here for a girl.  But, no.  His posture suggested he was here on business.  

I turn back to my beer.  I didn't need to find a man to glance at for the rest of the night.  I look down at my drink, trying to clear my head.  I sit like that for a moment, savoring my beer.  Someone settles into the seat beside me.  I look over, and he’s smiling back at me.  

My face burns hot, and I hope that the lights are dim enough that he can’t see me.  I turn back to my beer.  I hear him order a drink, his voice strong and deep.  He turns back to me, beer in hand.

“You’re ____, right?”  Dear god, how does he know my name?

“Special Agent Hammett, FBI.”  oh. That explains it.

“Yeah, I am.  Why do you ask?”

“We’re investigating the cattle deaths that are happening at your ranch and we wanted to know if you’ve seen anything strange.”

“Strange?”

“Cold spots, weird smells, crop failures…”

“No, just the cows.”

“And what would you say happened?”

“I just… went into work one day and there was a bull ripped to shreds.”

He nods.  “Could I see it?”

The next day, I was showing Agent Hammet onto the ranch.  The way the sun hit his eyes was one of the most beautiful things I've seen.  Like seeing the way the light hits the trees for the first time.  I look away.  I need to focus on why we’re here.

I led him toward the barn.  Inside a cooler, the bull’s body was resting.  The agent pulled on some gloves and started looking through the body.  I look away from the corpse and try to suppress the urge to vomit.

Eventually, he pulls out a small tooth.  Small and pointed, it was very scary looking.  “It looks like a fang…” He turns to me.  “Is there anything that lives around here that might leave something like this?”

I shake my head. “No, not that I know of.”  He puts the tooth into a tiny bag and pockets it.  

He looks up at me, and he must see the sick look on my face, because he stands up and says, “Let me buy you a drink.”  We both climbed into his car, a nice-looking thing.

“I can’t believe the FBI lets you drive this car around.”  He just smiles, still looking at the road.  “They do.”

I shake my head, a goofy grin stretched onto my face. “I don’t know, seems a little conspicuous.”

“You’d be surprised.”  I looked over at him.  His smile is gone, looking at the road lost in the thought.  When I look at him, I just want to reach over and-

I look out at the road.  I can’t entertain that thought.  I refuse to.  I glance over and I find him looking at me.  He turns his eyes back to the road.  

Eventually, we found our way back to the bar.  Walking inside, it was deserted.  We chose the same seats we picked last time.  Ordered the same drinks.  We settled in, sitting in silence for the longest time.  It's not uncomfortable, just quiet.  

He watches me.  I can feel his eyes in all of their silent intensity.  I want to look back at him, but I know if I do, he’ll break his gaze.  “So, what do you make of this, cowboy?”  I laugh to myself.  “What?”  

I finally look back at him.  “The last person who called me cowboy, I ended up taking home with me.”  

He gives me a soft smile.  “Who says I wouldn't want to go home with you?”

I look away, my eyes wide.  My face is a bright burning red.  He throws his head back and laughs.  I put my face in my hands, trying to make my face normal again.  He places a hand on my back, and I startle.  I groan to myself.  Jesus Christ, this man is making me act like a teenage girl.

I look over at him and he’s still watching me.  We fall into another silence, this one not uncomfortable like the last.  Peaceful, like the answer to everything was in each other’s eyes.  He reaches over and tucks a few stray hairs behind my ears.  My breathing began to slow, my heartbeat decreasing.  

I slowly place my hand on his face.  A few of my fingers gently touched his jaw.  I watch his eyes dart around my face, maybe doing the same thing I did last night.  Searching for micro expressions, any type of indicator that this was too good to be true.  I realized something.  

I pull my hand away from his face.  “Are you...?”

His brow furrowed in confusion.  “Am I what?”

“Are you a hunter?”

His eyes widened for a moment.  His chest begins to go up and down a little bit more.  He was breathing heavily.  I’d caught him.

“How do you know what hunters are?”  

I look up and watch as my father enters the bar.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

Part 2

[r0mantic-f00l]

Love and Hate

series masterlist

2nd April, 1878

I always had a difficult time distinguishing love and hate.

Even as a child, I didn’t know if I wanted my mother to go away or to stay.

Two sides of the same coin, and people think they’re so very different from each other. There’s a reason why love and hate are on the same coin.

With him, I believed I hated him, with all the strength I had in my heart. And I believed he felt the same.

Though I see now, there was never hatred between us, I don’t think that could ever be possible.

No, there will always be a part of me, a huge part of me I think, that will always need him. I may not want to believe that, but I have to see that it’s mere fact.

I believe he feels the same way. Though it has been some time since I last saw him. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s still breathing. I don’t want to know if he is or isn’t. I don’t know which is worse.

What I do know, is that the last time we saw each other, the last time he looked into my eyes, there was nothing but love there. And if he ever looks into my eyes before the day I die, I know there’ll be nothing but love there again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Fire crackled, its ember waves dancing amidst the cool night wind whilst the river crashed against the rocks, merciless water rushing from one end to the other.

The rope was beginning to harm your skin, the rough material leaving stubborn red on your wrists. Yet, you never complained, choosing not to utter a single word or to even clear your throat as you watched the boys, as you studied them.

Remus was clearly the leader, that much was made clear from the very first second you came upon them. But he was gentle, acting as if he was harsh and strong, yet when he flinched at the sound of a wolf howling, though a slight flinch, you deduced that his strong front was really an act. After all, he was still just a boy.

James and Sirius were close, you could see. With all their jokes and laughter, their patted shoulders and ruffled hair, they acted like brothers. In fact, you would say they were brothers, if it were not made clear to you by Peter that they were all good friends.

Speaking of the boy, he was quiet. Spoke up every now and then, with a pathetic attempt at a joke, or a weak suggestion, but still, he was quiet. He was like an outsider, like you, who didn’t truly belong to the gang. Like he wasn’t their friend, but merely someone who stuck by them. His gaze would hover over Sirius, who remained oblivious to Peter’s intense stare. At first, you thought it was a gaze full of longing, full of want due to the intensity of it. But you realised quickly that it wasn’t a longing gaze, it was a gaze of jealousy. Whenever Sirius had made the gang laugh, or gasp in admiration, or even when he had spoke French (which you were still confused over) quite easily and dramatically, Peter had looked at him as if it should be him who was admired and loved. You could see it in his cloudy blue eyes - he wanted to be Sirius.

You were distracted by the rope on your wrist when a hand had reached out to give you a metal cup of soup. Glancing up, you saw that hand belonged to the boy you had trusted the least (though you had quite low trust for all of them).

“Take it.” Sirius had grumbled, taking a seat next to you on the floor.

“Kinda hard to.” You gestured towards your wrists, frowning when Sirius had scoffed.

“You’re just going to have to try.”

You huffed, but still took the outreached cup between your hands and brought it up to your lips to take a sip. It was warm and soothing, the tomato flavour reminding you of a time when you would run wild among the fields and come home for supper.

“You’re welcome.” The boy beside you muttered snidely, watching the fire before you.

“You know, you didn’t have to give me it.”

“I did. Remmy forced me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Remmy?”

Sirius sighed. “Remus. You know the brain in your skull? Use it.”

You scoffed, but didn’t respond, taking another sip of your soup before turning back to the fire.

“… I suppose you’re quite happy.”

“Why would I be happy?”

Sirius turned his head to look at you.

“Well, you got to steal money from me, and now you’re in my camp, with my food, and you get to take some more money in a couple of days.”

He huffed, turning his gaze back to the fire before muttering under his breath, “Ought to tie you to a tree.”

You grinned.

“Your fault for making it so easy on me.”

“You know, if I ever have the unfortunate coincidence of running into you after this, I’ll take every bit of money you have and your horse.”

“You could try.”

“And I’ll succeed.”

“Really? Like you did when you tried to get your money back?”

“Please, keep talking, give me a reason to feed you to the wolves.”

You gasped. “You’d do something so horrid to a poor, little woman?”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re no woman.”

“What am I then?”

He kept his gaze on the fire, his eyes stoic whilst his lips curved down.

“A demon.”

You grinned, staring at him.

“Takes one to know one, mister.”

You had took another sip of your soup, your grin growing as Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned back, his arm resting on his propped-up leg.

Silence had fell between you, and even though you tried to ignore it, it brought a comforting feeling deep within your chest. The night sky, the fire, the warm soup and smell of grass and trees creating a calming atmosphere.

You thought back to what Peter had revealed to you earlier.

“Usually, he’s the one stealing from everyone, damn if he’s not the most talented person I know at robbing. Takes stuff without the person even knowing.”

Sirius had many opportunities to dip his hand in your pockets, to swipe the rusted silver pocket-watch from your belt, to take your gun from your holster and leave before you knew it. You were deep at risk of becoming another one of his victims, yet you weren’t. And you knew it wasn’t because you were better than him. Although you’d like to believe different, you knew the talent Sirius Black had, the reputation he had garnered for himself was greater than yours. He didn’t just have sticky fingers, he was like a black mist - coming when you least expect it, and taking what you wouldn’t know was took, not until it was too late.

So you looked at him, and his hard-set frown.

“Why didn’t you rob me?”

“Huh?”

You gazed into his eyes, which turned soft for a split second as if forgetting the inner feeling of hatred.

“Why didn’t you rob me? Back in the bar, when you had plenty opportunity to?”

His eyes remained on yours for a little longer before he shrugged and turned back to the fire.

“I’m a gentleman, I don’t steal from ladies.”

“But I thought I was a demon?” You grinned when he ran his hand over his face.

“You know what I mean.”

You thought back to another thing Peter had said, your memory all of a sudden become clear.

“Well, miss, his prime target is pretty women like yourself.”

However, you chose to remain quiet. You knew that if you were to keep asking him why, why, why, he would not answer any of your questions, not to your satisfaction anyway.

So you sat there, your forgotten soup turning cold as you watched the same fire Sirius watched, and you pondered amongst yourself why he remained there by your side, silent and stubborn, and not by the side of his dear friends who were lost in conversation. You chalked it up to merely keeping an eye on you, making sure that you would not escape amidst the dark night. Yet, as you felt your eyes dropping whilst you rested your head on the ground, trying your best to ignore the rope digging into your wrists, you expected Sirius to kill you. To shoot you, stab you. He had the perfect opportunity.

Yet, you woke up the next morning, alive and well, and still right next to sleeping Sirius Black.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Wild West Gang - Noncon

Your life is all planned out for you. Marriage. Children. Settling down in your little town and growing old. But a gang of outlaws and their wicked desires change everything.

Tags: (6) yandere males x fem reader, noncon, loss of virginity, choking, spitroast (hell yeah), oral fixation, 12.3k words

I blame the ridiculously talented @fangdokja and The Red Ledger for inspiring this btw.

They came for you in the middle of the day.

Shameless. Better men would at least wait for nightfall, would at least try and hide their intentions behind the cloak of darkness. Not them though.

They kicked the door in when your family was just about ready to eat lunch, the food still steaming and your ma still in her apron.

You didn't even have time to scream.

One outlaw smashed his rifle butt into your pa's temple and the old man was out like a light, still clutching the knife he'd grabbed to defend you. Two others grabbed your mother and shoved her into the pantry, blocked the door with a tipped over cupboard.

You ran. Or tried to at least. They were crowded into your kitchen, laughing as you turned from one to the other.

"No way out, beauty."

"Too late to run now, darlin'. Shoulda started before we even got here if you wanted to get away."

"Look at her all scared. Ain't it just adorable?"

With near identical duster coats and bandanas tied across their faces, you couldn't tell them apart.

They were closing in on you, a little at a time. You tried to fight, to pull away when one of them grabbed you. But they were dust bitten outlaws and you were just a rancher's daughter. It wasn't even a struggle.

The tallest one slammed you down on the kitchen table, his fingers digging into your shoulders and his belt buckle grinding against your ass.

Your mama's good milk jug tumbled off and shattered on the floor. That was what you focused on as they tied your hands behind your back and gagged you. The shards of blue and white ceramic in the puddle of milk.

Not their hands running over your hips, not their laughter. Just the milk and your ma's favourite jug all in pieces.

You could still hear your mother screaming for you when they pulled you outside. That was what hurt the most about that entire awful day. Your mama, pleading and begging and panicking and unable to save you.

Their horses were waiting, another outlaw standing guard with his rifle out.

"Boss, let her ride with me."

"With you? Ain't no way in hell my girl is riding with you."

"Your girl? She ain't yours. Boss, tell 'em she ain't his."

"Runnin' to the boss again? Yellow belly."

It was the tall one who settled the argument. His voice wasn't as rough as the others, but that didn't put you at ease in the slightest.

"She's riding with me."

He still had one hand curled around your upper arm and he pulled you towards his mustang. You dug your heels in as hard as you could, pulled back with all your weight. It just made him sigh.

"Ain't even started yet, and she's already being difficult?"

The outlaw that spoke was already on his stallion. All you could see of his face above the bandana was a pair of blue eyes, lined at the corners. The boss maybe?

"Just some...growing pains. She'll settle down soon enough."

The tall one leaned down and hoisted you over his shoulder. You squirmed and tried to kick your way free, but he kept one arm tight around your knees.

You thought all your panicking would frighten the horses, but no such luck. He tossed you across his saddle and climbed up behind you. The saddle horn dug into your belly until he pulled you into a proper seat, one arm curling around your waist. You could feel his chest against your back, every inch of it firm, hard earned muscle.

He dropped his head and spoke directly into your ear.

"No trying to jump off the horse. No trying to run away. I'm in charge of you until we get back and I won't have you hurt on my watch."

Your only response was to try and smash your head back into his nose. He straightened up just in time and all you managed to do was hurt your own neck.

He sighed again, and spurred his horse forward.

"Well, I suppose it this was easy, it wouldn't be nearly as fun."

The outlaws formed a loose ring around you as you rode. You tried to twist and look back, but your captor was holding you too tight. You didn't even get to see your home shrink into the horizon. Didn't even get that one small goodbye.

They rode for at least two hours, the sun climbing down from its zenith as they took you across rivers and down secret little paths. You knew your ranch and the area around it like the back of your hand, but even you were well and truly lost when you finally arrived.

It was a ranch, but there weren't any cows in the fields or corn growing in neat rows. The house was a big, whitewashed thing. Pretty once, but fallen into disrepair. Just a hideout. Not a place they stayed at for more than a few months.

The blue eyed one pulled you off the horse without breaking a sweat.

You could feel their eyes on you again. God, how many were there? Five? Six?

"You goin' first boss?"

The man looked down at you. He had a hand around your upper arm, but his grip was more firm than rough.

"I reckon I should. Can't trust you lot to be gentle or slow enough."

That made some of them jeer and complain.

"I'll be real sweet, boss. I promise!"

"We can be nice too. Really."

The man snorted. "Nice? I ain't never seen you dogs be nice 'bout nothing. I'll break our filly in. You lot just be patient and don't bother us none."

What were they talking about? You didn't have time to puzzle it out before the boss started pulling you toward the house. Seeing that building looming closer made you start fighting all over again, biting down on your gag and pulling back as much as you could. Like a mustang digging it's feet in.

It didn't last long. The boss leveled a look at you, met your eyes straight on.

"You really gonna be difficult with me, girl?"

Oh, what frightening eyes he had. Bright and clever, a blue so striking you could feel it right through your soul. A mountain lion would have eyes softer than his.

You stopped resisting him. Let him pull you along besides him. What else could you do? He had a gun on his back and a knife in his boot and years of experience wrangling stubborn animals. And you were just a girl out of her depth and far from home.

You didn't see it, but the outlaws looked at each other, impressed. Only the boss could tame a filly with a single look.

The house was much cooler than outside, but the boss didn't give you any time to examine it. Just guided you up the stairs and into a large bedroom. White curtains stirred in the breeze, the bedding neat and clean.

He locked the door behind you. A quiet click that made your heart race.

You jumped when his hands came to rest on your shoulders. You could hear the other outlaws outside, the clink of harnesses and buckles as they let the horses out to pasture.

His hands moved from your shoulders to your upper arms, squeezed.

"Do you know why we took you?"

You shook your head. Ransom, maybe? But your pa was just a run of the mill rancher. Surely there were better targets for quick cash than you.

The outlaw laughed quietly, just a soft breath of amusement.

"Not the faintest clue, huh?"

He let go of you and you heard the soft rustle of material as he shrugged out of his duster.

He turned you around and you finally got to see his face. He'd taken off his Stetson and bandana too, and the man looking back at you was a hardened outlaw in every way. He was a lot older than you, with thick blonde hair going to grey at the edges. Handsome, with a strong jaw covered in light stubble. Grizzled, but muscular and lean for his age.

There was a small, amused smile on his lips.

He kept his hands on your arms and guided you backwards, until your back hit the wall.

"You wanna take a guess? Why'd we ride all the way out to town to steal you?"

Whatever you said was muffled by your gag. He clicked his tongue.

"You're gonna have to use your worlds, darlin'."

He ran his thumb across your cheek, across the gag. "Or maybe not. I like you just like this too."

He was close. Closer than any man had ever been. It was terrifying. Tears spilled down your cheeks, running across your gag and soaking in.

He sighed, caught one on his thumb.

"None of that now girl. I ain't gonna be rough with you. And in time, I reckon you'll come to like it."

Your dress was buttoned at the front, all the way to your neck. He grabbed both sides of your collar and ripped.

You tried to jerk away from him, but he was too close and the only way out was blocked by the wall. Buttons scattered across the room with little plinks.

The only thing keeping your dress on was the fact that your hands were tied behind your back. But the outlaw didn't let that stop him for long.

He leaned down and pulled a knife from his boot.

"Don't squirm 'round and I won't cut you, alright?"

Sound advice, but not something you were about to listen to. You thrashed in his grip, twisting as much as you could. You didn't want that thing anywhere near you.

He grabbed your hair, and yanked your head backwards. You screamed into your gag, your whole scalp aching.

You might have continued fighting, but that's when you felt the cool metal of his knife at your throat. Not the sharp edge, but still enough of a reminder to keep you still.

"Good. Not so hard, is it?"

The knife moved away from your neck and to your sleeve. He slipped the blade between your skin and the fabric and yanked upwards.

Your sleeve tore with an ugly ripping sound, all the way down to the wrist. You whined into your gag, but he ignored you and repeated it on the other side.

He was breathing heavier now, even though the work of keeping you still couldn't have been much of a challenge for a man as strong as him. He put the handle of his knife in his mouth and used both hands to pull your dress off you. It pooled at your ankles, ruined.

You still had your chemise, but the thin white fabric was almost as bad as being naked. Your nipples poked through and he narrowed in on them, one hand coming up to cup your breast. His teeth were biting into the handle of his knife, hard enough to leave indents in the wood. Like a man struggling to control himself. He breathed out slowly, just feeling the weight of your tits in his palms.

You were crying so hard you almost couldn't see his face. A mixture of pity and want.

He kneeled down to put his knife away and stayed on his knees, hands coming to your hips. He looked up at you, blue eyes bright with something you didn't yet know how to recognise. Lust. Want.

His thumbs stroked circles into your skin, your chemise the only barrier between you and him.

"If I was a better man, I'd almost be sorry about this."

He grabbed your leg and hooked your thigh over his shoulder. You almost stumbled, forced to keep your back against the wall if you didn't want to loose your balance.

His fingers gathered your chemise from the hem up, pinning it at your waist with his palms. You were wearing stockings, simple white ones that reached your mid thigh, and plain lace garters.

All in all, it was a damn nice framing for your bare cunt.

God, he could practically feel his mouth watering.

He didn't give you any warning. Just slipped his tongue between your lips. Hot, wet, like nothing you'd ever felt. You tried to squirm away, practically tried to climb up the wall to get away from him. But he had you trapped, one massive palm on your hip and the other on your thigh.

He found your hole real easy. Slipped his tongue all the way in, the bridge of his nose grinding into your clit. You whined at him to stop it, to please just let you go, but with the gag, all he heard was a pretty little sound that made him keep going.

He sucked on your clit, his jawline standing out in sharp relief. His stubble scraped your thighs. So masculine, so unbearably, overwhelmingly manly.

With the way he held you still, you couldn't do anything except take it. Feel even inch of his tongue, feel his hot breath on your skin, feel his nails scraping your thigh. You wanted to hate it. You wanted to be disgusted by it.

But oh, it felt good.

Sometimes, when the neighbour's handsome son came over, you'd feel a little throbbing ache between your legs. This was exactly like that, cranked up to a thousand.

You whined again, and he must have been the Devil's own son, because he just doubled down. Swirled the flat of his tongue across your whole clit and then ran it down all the way to you ass.

You thighs were shaking, and the pit of your stomach felt tight with something your couldn't explain.

"That's my girl." He sounded pleased, smug. Practically cooing at you in his rough baritone. "Feels real good, don't it?"

If he didn't break soon, you felt like your whole body would. Something inside you was building, getting closer to the edge. And you were terrified of it. You breath was coming hard and fast.

Mercifully, he pulled away. Kissed the triangle of your pussy and then your inner thigh. You could feel his teeth against your skin when he smiled.

"Not yet. I ain't nearly close to done with you."

He stood and you weren't sure whether to be thankful or upset. You felt woozy, hot. Like heat stroke, or like getting drunk.

His mouth and chin glistened. He rubbed it dry on his palm, smirking all the while.

"I bet you feel real empty inside, huh sweetheart?"

You nodded your head, not sure where he was going with this. You did feel empty. There was a hot, throbbing itch in your stomach that you had no idea how to scratch.

"Aww, poor thing. I can take care of that for you."

His hands moved to his belt, blue eyes pinning you to the wall. When he smiled, there were lines around his eyes. They should have been comforting, a mark of someone who laughed often and laughed easy. They weren't.

You shook your head, pleading with your eyes. The tears were starting to come again, thick and fast. For a second or two, with his tongue deep in your core, you'd forgotten that he'd want something in exchange.

His eyes hardened, his smile not moving an inch.

"I will take care of it, girl. You can cry if you want, but we've come too far to stop now."

He grabbed your thigh and pulled your leg up, forced you back against the wall. Your whole cunt was wet and glistening with his spit.

Something hot and hard rubbed between your pussy lips. You shuddered, tried to move away. His other arm came around your waist and he pulled you against his chest. The smell of him was overwhelming - gunpowder and leather and whiskey. He smelled like a man. He smelled like your ruin.

Your forehead fell against his collarbone, and his chin came to rest on the crown of your head. The same way a father might hold his daughter after a nightmare.

But there was nothing fatherly about the cock nudging at your entrance.

"Shhh, you're okay. It ain't gonna hurt."

Liar. Terrible, heartless liar.

He pushed in and it felt like your whole body was splitting apart. It burned.

You sobbed into his chest, not entirely sure what was happening to you. This was the sort of thing that was only whispered about. The sort of thing that was kept vague for good, obedient girls until their wedding nights. The only thing you knew for a fact was that it hurt and you wanted it to stop.

He groaned, pressed a kiss against your hair.

"Sweet little thing, ain't ya? Gonna be good 'fer me? Gonna take it nice and deep?"

You couldn't answer. There was only the stretch of his cock inside you and the oppressive tightness of his arms.

He set a slow, drawn out pace. Cock pulling all the way out to the tip and then sliding right back in. You could feel every inch.

Not gentle, but not needlessly mean either. You were shivering in his arms, pussy fluttering like a heartbeat around him.

No one but him knew how fucking difficult it was to keep so slow. Tight, tiny little thing bleeding and crying all over him. Any red blooded man would want to rut into you like a stallion. See just how many tears he could wring out of you.

It was only experience and determination that held him back. If he was a younger man...

It was the right decision to have you first. Not even his second in command - that tall bastard with all the self control in the world - could have managed this.

He huffed out a laugh.

"You're little too young for me, doll. Reckon I could be your father."

He slid back inside you, grinding against your clit in a way that made you whimper.

"Shitty fucking father though. To be doing this to my little girl."

He let go of waist and cupped your jaw in his palm. Tilted your head back, his nose and lips skimming up your neck. You smelled so fucking good. Nothing in this world was as sweet as a needy, crying girl.

"You gonna call me daddy, little girl? Gonna beg me to be nice and let you go?"

You whimpered, a pathetic little sound through the gag. It only made him smile against your neck.

"Thaaat's it. Just take it. Let me break you in. Gonna be all stretched out and sweet when I'm done with you, yeah?"

He sucked at your neck, at the delicate spot where your shoulder started to slope away. A little immature maybe, to want to mark you up like an animal, but wasn't he being plenty mature already? Wasn't he being just saintly in his patience?

"Fuck, you're getting close, ain'tcha? Can feel you gettin' all tight."

He pulled back to look into your eyes, overflowing with tears and just so damn scared.

"You ain't got no idea what's 'bout to happen, do ya?"

He pulled almost all the way out, and then slammed back in, hard. Your tits jumped and your eyes fluttered shut.

"Just relax and let it happen. It's gonna feel reeaal good."

You tilted your head back and he followed you, lips right back at your throat.

He picked up the pace, trying not to be too rough and slowly failing. The closer he got to his own end, the less important kindness seemed. It wasn't long 'fore he was slamming into you so hard he could feel your tits bouncing. His breath was coming fast, each exhale almost a growl.

"Take it, just like that. C'mon doll, just let me fuck you. Just let me make you mine."

You bit down on your gag and came. Your whole body shook, your nails digging into your palms. You didn't now what he'd done to you, but you couldn't stop it. Your pussy was a clenching, sensitive mess. You felt light headed enough to faint. And the only sound and thought in your head was his voice, right in your ear and rough with barely held back want.

"That's my girl. My good fucking girl."

A good man might have slowed down then. Might have realised just how sensitive you were. He didn't. He kept pistoning his cock into you, fucked you through your orgasm.

You writhed on his dick, in pain and overwhelmed and more scared than you'd ever been. And all of it just served to make him harder, to bring him closer. Even he had to admit he was a bastard for enjoying it so much. He didn't deserve something so sweet. All he deserved in life was a short dance with a noose. But who gave a fuck about that? He'd taken you, he'd stolen you, and like any good thief, he was going to enjoy you.

You felt it when he came. His cock pulsed and twitched inside you, and something hot dripped down your thigh.

He pressed his forehead against yours, hands so tight on you that you felt bruised.

He came down slowly. Kept you plugged up with his cock while he softened. The only sound in the room was his harsh breathing. You couldn't even cry anymore. All you wanted was to close your eyes and sleep and make the pain disappear.

He pulled back and tilted your chin up.

"Look at me."

You opened your eyes, tears still caught in your lashes.

"There she is. Ain't so bad, is it?"

All you could do was sniffle and hope he was bored of you.

He let you down carefully. You weren't steady on your feet at all.

"I've had a lot of blood on my cock over the years, darlin', but I reckon yours is the finest."

He kissed you. You were still gagged, so it was less a kiss and more so his lips pressing against yours.

When he finally stepped away from you, you almost wanted him back. You sank down to your knees, too dizzy to stand.

"Poor thing. Too much to handle, doll?"

He ran his fingers through your hair.

"You did so good, princess. Now just stay so sweet, and the rest of this day will go a hell of a lot easier for you."

You were too out of it to figure out what he meant. You closed your eyes and heard his spurs jingling as he walked away. The door creaked open and then he was gone.

You might have tried to run for it, but you ached so bad that even the thought of it was painful. Your hands were still tied as tight as they were before.

You didn't notice the footsteps or the voices until they were right outside the door.

"So much for bein' nice. Boss left her a right mess."

"Better than you woulda done. Least she's still in one piece."

They came to stand in front of you, two men with their bandanas pulled down around their throats.

You recognised their voices. These two were the most quarrelsome of the bunch. They still had their gun belts on, both of them carrying revolvers. Gunslingers then. Every gang had them.

"Look at her already on her knees 'fer us."

"Why you cryin' pretty girl? Was the boss too mean with ya?"

You looked up slowly. Boots first - silver spurs, well worn leather. Then their belts. And finally, their faces.

One was dark skinned, a crescent scar on his cheek and his hair cropped short. He rubbed his jaw as he looked at you, a half smile showing pearly white teeth.

"Oh, would ya look at those eyes? A man could drown in 'em."

The other was tanned golden with the sun, his eyes a pale green. He was still wearing his Stetson, and his dark hair was long enough to brush his shoulders.

"Boss must be getting old. He left some of her clothes on."

That made the dark one laugh. "Nah, I reckon it's meant to be a treat just 'fer us. Like unwrapping a present on Christmas mornin'."

The green eyed one squated down in front on you and grabbed your jaw. His hands were rough from labour, and his callouses scraped your skin. Whatever he saw in your eyes made him smile, but it didn't have a lick of kindness in it.

"Look at that...Boss really did break you in, didn't he filly?"

He stood and pulled you up with him, hand still clutching your jaw.

"I reckon she's gonna be real sweet to us. Gonna be all nice and obedient."

The other one came to stand behind you, his fingertips brushing the nape of your neck as he moved your hair out of the way.

"That right, filly? You gonna be all sweet?"

The green eyed one nodded your head for you. His eyes had a certain cruelty to them that made you want to step away. He seemed the type to use spurs and whips both, and to use them often.

He let go of your jaw and focused on the rest of you. And oh, what a lovely sight you were. All tied up and crying, your tits just visible through your chemise. A little virgin about to loose the rest of your innocence to his teeth. A fucking vision, a fucking dream.

He pinched one of your nipples and rolled it between his fingers. Your thin chemise wasn't any protection at all.

"Sensitive, ain'tcha?"

You whined. Not sure whether to pull away or step closer.

The gunslinger behind you wasn't in the mood to be left out. As his partner tugged and played with your nipples, his hands came to rest on your waist. And what huge hands they were. You could feel the heat of him even through your clothes.

He dropped his head to the nape of your neck and inhaled, his nose buried in your hair.

When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble.

"What do you want?"

The green eyed one looked you up and down, weighing his options. Finally, he smiled.

"I'll take her mouth."

Your whole body went cold. He couldn't mean...

"Hmm. That's fine with me." His hands dropped from your waist to your ass, squeezing. "I want to have her from the back anyway."

They must have been in perfect sync with each other. The one in front of you stood aside and the one behind you pushed you towards the bed. You stumbled, landed on the duvet chin first, your teeth slamming together despite the gag.

You didn't have time to push yourself up before they were tearing your chemise off. The thin straps ripped and your last bit of modesty floated to the floor in a tattered white heap. You were left in just your stockings.

The dark one pulled you up by your hips, one hand grabbing the rope around your wrists to keep you steady.

Smack.

Your whole body jerked forward, your ass cheek stinging.

One of them laughed, mocking. "Bet that'll leave a mark."

The dark one ran his palm over the welt, smiling though you couldn't see it.

"We promised the boss we would be nice, remember?"

The green eyed one circled the bed. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in your naked skin, your stockings, the tears soaking your gag.

His hands were on his belt. Not undoing it yet, just watching you.

"Y'know, I give that tall bastard a lot of shit, but even I gotta say he was right this time. She's a real cute thing."

The man behind you was still stroking your ass, squeezing and watching your flesh give under his fingers. So soft, so fucking pliable.

He hummed quietly, more concerned with you than with his partner. He slipped his thumb down between your cheeks, catching on your asshole for a second. That sent a jolt of panic through you. They wouldn't...

He must have felt you moving, because he sighed and let his fingers continue downwards. Smearing cum and blood across your pussy lips.

"Not today," he said, soft enough for just you to hear. "Boss wouldn't like that."

That wasn't reassuring to hear. It meant that he still wanted it. Wanted to fuck your virgin ass without any care for the pain, for the hurt. The thing stopping him wasn't empathy, but obedience.

He rubbed tight, harsh circles into your clit. You were still sensitive and you pleaded into your gag, asking him to be just a bit more gentle. Either he couldn't understand you or didn't bother to even hear you, because he carried on, fingerpads rough as sandpaper.

The green eyed one noticed though. He seemed to notice just about everything.

"Want me to take that gag off sweetheart?"

You nodded your head frantically. The sides of your lips felt raw and you couldn't stand the taste of it.

He kneeled with one leg on the bed and undid the material. When he pulled it away, thin lines of spit followed.

You sucked in a lungful of air, coughing. He gathered your hair out of your face, held it all in a loose fist at the back of your head.

"All better?"

Maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"...yes." You swallowed, your voice still hoarse. "Thank you."

He tilted his head, smirking.

"So polite. Boss really did a number on ya, huh? Or are ya just a well bred little lady?"

You didn't get a chance to answer, because the other gunslinger ground his palm against your cunt. You yelped and jerked forward on instinct.

The green eyed one tightened his hold on your hair.

"None of that. You can take it."

"I can't! It hurts."

His free hand tugged at his belt, pulling it free of the belt loops. You blanched. What the hell did he need that for?

"Ain't even been a minute and you're already whining? C'mon pretty, there's better things to do with your mouth than that."

He let go of your hair long enough to loop the belt around your neck, the leather wrapped around his fist. He tugged and it tightened, metal buckle pressing icy cold against your skin.

He pulled upwards, forced you to look at him. His cat eyes were mean, amused at seeing you leashed.

"You even think 'bout usin' your teeth and I'll pull this so tight you won't even be able to think 'bout breathing. Got it?"

What was he talking about? Your teeth?

Your answer came soon enough. With his belt off, it was real easy for him to take his cock out. He sighed, relieved to have it free.

The only thing keeping you in place was the belt around your neck. Even still, you pulled backwards until you couldn't go any further.

It was huge.

Thick, with veins running all the way to the tip. That was supposed to fit inside of you? You'd never seen a man's cock before. Even when the boss fucked you, you'd only felt it. No fucking wonder it hurt so bad, if they were all this size.

It was horrifying, and still you couldn't look away.

"Ain't it a sight?"

He grabbed it with his free hand and yanked your head down with the belt, until the tip brushed your lips.

"Come have a closer look."

Maybe if your hands were free, you'd be able to pull away. But as it was, you were staying balanced only because of his grip on the belt and his partner's grip on your arms.

He rubbed the tip across your lips, leaving behind a sticky coating of precum.

"Don't be shy," he purred, "Give it a little kiss."

The belt tightened until you listened. You pecked the side of it, where it wasn't so gross and sticky.

"Atta girl. Now open wide."

You desperately didn't want to. He tasted of salt, and his cock was so hard that you couldn't even imagine how it would fit.

You didn't want to, but what choice did you have?

You opened your mouth and he pushed himself past your lips with a groan. The tip scraped against your tongue, soft as velvet and tasting like the sea.

He let go of his dick and tangled his hand in your hair, pushing your head lower. Until the tip brushed the back of your throat. You gagged, shivering all around him.

"God, your mouth is fucking heaven sent."

He pulled out slowly, until it was just the tip sitting in your mouth.

"Are you gonna join me or what?"

The other gunslinger snorted.

"Fucking impatient. You gotta treat a lady gentle on her first time."

You heard the rustle of clothing behind you, and the hand that was playing with your cunt came to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the flesh for a good grip.

Your cunt felt cold without his touch, but his fingers were quickly replaced with his cock. The head nudged at your entrance, hot enough that you could practically feel it radiating. The leaking pre mixed with the sticky come already on your lips, thin strands of white pulling and breaking as he settled himself against you.

You wanted to say something, anything, to make them stop, but the gunslinger still had his dick in your mouth.

"Hmmm. Nice and warm and I ain't even pushed inside yet."

"Ain't she? Like she was made for us."

His hand slid from your hair to you jaw, thumb tracing your cheek. He could see the bulge of his cock against your cheek - it made you look a little chipmunk getting all cozy and ready for winter. Your tears were caught on your lashes, silver dew drops like you just took a swim.

"You heard me, baby? You're made for us. Made to fuck us and keep us happy. Our little lady."

They both pushed into you at the same time.

Thick cock bullying into you, trapping you between them with nowhere to go. You wanted to scream, but you couldn't. You couldn't even think. Couldn't even breathe.

The green eyed cowboy pulled on your leash and forced you to tilt your head back, bare your throat to him. He pushed deeper into you, until his dick was down your throat and your nose was brushing the hard muscles of his stomach.

He held you there, cock down your throat and tears collecting in your eyes, while his partner started thrusting.

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't pull away, couldn't fight him. You could just look up at him, eyes all wide and scared. Your panic was thick in your blood and he drank it in.

Smirking, keeping you at his mercy. He knew you couldn't breathe, and he still held you on his cock.

Your heart was racing and you felt light headed before he finally pulled out. You gasped, thick strings of spit connecting you. He only gave you enough time to catch a few deep breaths before he was back in your mouth, thrusting. Going just as deep but thankfully pulling out.

You gagged and choked and felt like you were drowning on his cock. And all the while, his partner yanked you back and slammed balls deep into you.

It was too much. You couldn't focus on anything. You were limp in their hands, letting them fuck you and just trying to survive it.

You weren't sure how long it took. Your whole world was narrowed down to just them - their hands on you, getting tighter and meaner the closer they got to coming.

The one fucking you from the back let go of your hip and curled his whole arm around your waist, leaning over you until his lips were on your neck. Fucking you hunched over like a dog in heat.

He bit your shoulder, sunk his teeth in with a snarl.

They didn't talk much anymore. There weren't any words left. Just the need to fuck and claim and come.

The sounds were the worst. The slick squelching of a cock in your cunt, the slap of skin on skin, the heavy snarls for you to take it like a good girl. And their raspy breathing, like stallions after a gallop.

The gunslinger pulled harder on your leash, keeping you still while he fucked your face. He's teeth were gritted tight, his eyes narrowed and focused entirely on you.

The dark one must have hit something deep inside you, because you made a whining, moaning sort of noise that vibrated all through his cock.

That was what did it. He forced his cock all the way down your throat, held you in place while he came.

When he pulled out, you were coughing so hard your whole chest ached.

That's when you felt it - hot spunk splattering all over your asshole. Your whole body shuddered at the feeling.

The man behind you kissed your back between your shoulder blades and slowly moved down. When he came to your ass cheeks, he sunk his teeth in with a playful growl.

He flipped you onto your back, and you sunk bonelessly down onto the covers. Your nipples were tender and your neck was a patchwork of marks.

The dark skinned one flopped down next to you and threw a possessive arm around your waist. He hummed, pleased as a bear before winter.

"Best fuck I've had in ages."

His partner was silent, his fingers toying with the belt still around your neck. You tilted your head back to look at him.

He was smiling, not soft exactly but about as close as a cruel bastard like him could get. He was so handsome, when he wasn't trying to choke you.

He sighed and let his fingers drift up your cheeks.

"I wish we could stay, pretty. But the day ain't done just yet."

The other one grumbled. "Can't we just lay here for a bit? I've got my girl all nice and snug. Why should I let her go?"

"Boss's orders, that's why. We gotta play nice and share."

"Why? Those bastards don't deserve her."

"And we do?"

He didn't bother to answer, just pushed himself to his elbows and looked down at you. His eyes were a deep brown. Sweet, almost.

"No," he said quietly, "We don't."

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. Soft, like a husband would. He stood and only looked back at you when he was at the door. Hard man, killer and gunslinger that he was, you thought you saw just a little guilt in his eyes.

When he was gone, the green eyed gunslinger ran his hands through your hair.

"He's right, y'know. We don't deserve a girl like you."

There wasn't any guilt in his voice, just a deep sense of satisfaction.

"But we've got you anyway. If the world gave folk what they deserved, you'd never have been so unlucky to catch our eye in the first place."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your other cheek, and then nipped at your jaw. A coyote savouring a bone.

"You'll learn to take it, sweetheart. And when I'm done, you'll learn to like it."

He left his belt around your neck and let the door slam shut behind him.

You could hear when they joined the others out in the yard. Their laughter drifted up to you, sharp as a wild dog's bark.

You closed your eyes. On your back in nothing but your stockings and a leash. It wasn't the sort of thing you'd ever imagined as a possibility. Hell, a lot of today was filled with things you'd never even thought about.

You hurt in just about every place. But parts of you throbbed with a pain that wasn't entirely unwanted.

Traitorous body, traitorous mind.

You couldn't possibly like this. You were being used by criminals, killers. Your virginity was just another prize for them to steal. You were a good girl, raised in a good home with upright, moral parents. You weren't some lady of the night, some harlot, to enjoy their roughness.

Right?

When the door sighed open, you didn't even bother to open your eyes.

"These young ones don't know any gentleness, eh beauty?"

His voice was calm. The sort of soft tone you'd use with a filly still nervous 'bout the bit.

You could hear his footsteps. Heavy boots but no spurs.

You flinched when he touched the belt around your neck, but he didn't do much more than run his fingers across the leather.

"Let's get this off you. Idiots. You don't harness a creature so fine."

He pulled it off your neck carefully and then touched the bruises it left behind.

"Open your eyes for me, beauty. Let me see you."

You almost didn't. What more was there to see? Another man with too tight hands and a hunger that wouldn't end?

It was his voice that did it. So kind. No growl behind the words, no clenched teeth snarl.

The first thing you saw were his eyes. A dark hazel, like an eagle's.

"Ah, just as pretty as I thought. Do you want to sit up for me? Those ropes must be hurting something awful by now."

He was older than you, but not by too much. Older than the gunslingers, but not nearly as old as the boss. His hair was tied in braid that fell almost all the way down his back. Lakota, if you had to guess, or maybe Crow.

There was a pair of workman's gloves shoved in the pocket of his jeans, but he didn't carry a pistol. The wrangler most likely.

You sat up slowly, wary. He didn't seem awfully worked up about a naked woman sprawled on the bed in front of him. Maybe he wasn't so bad...

He untied your hands without letting his own wander.

You flexed your fingers and carefully brought your hands to your lap. Your shoulders ached from being stuck in one position for so long.

"Will you let me go?"

"Oh, beauty." He touched his knuckles to your cheek. "That's what you want, isn't it? To go back home?"

"Yes." Your throat felt tight with tears. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes.

"It hurts to see you cry, beauty. It hurts to see these marks on you. But even if I was the only one holding you back, even if it was entirely up to me... I wouldn't."

"Are you going to do the same thing as the rest of them?"

He held your face in his palms, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. He smiled, but it was awfully sad.

"It's been real long time since I've had a woman, beauty. And never one so fine. I'm still just a man."

You were crying again, though you didn't realise it. Tears washing hot over his fingers.

"Shhh." He leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll be gentle. I won't hurt you."

He undid his belt slowly, eyes on you the entire time. You were on your knees again, your stockings making you look oh so innocent and oh so filthy all at once.

He grabbed your hand before he took his cock out. You pulled away, but his grip was too strong. Not rough, not hurting you. Just too firm to escape.

He brought you hand to his crotch, pressed your palm against his cock. Even through the thick denim of his jeans, you could feel how hard it was.

"All your doing, beauty. That's all your fault."

He undid the last button and his dick pushed it's way free. Big and no less intimidating for being the second one today. His fingers were knotted between yours and he dragged your hand up his shaft. He sighed, a man finally getting release.

"Here, this will go faster if you use your mouth."

His other hand came to rest on the nape of your neck. Not forcing you down exactly, but heavy, inexorable. Trying to refuse him was like fighting the pull of the moon.

He didn't force himself into you like the gunslinger did. Just kept using your hand - still dry - to stroke himself.

"Come now beauty. Just a little lick and it will all be over. You want that, don't you?"

You did. You wanted this day to end.

You cautiously licked the head of his cock, your tongue almost blistering hot. He groaned and for just a second, the hand on your nape tightened. Like he really did just want to pull you onto him and have his own way.

"There you go. Not so terrible, is it?"

It wasn't. He tasted salty, but not in an unpleasant way. And hearing him groan like that made some part of your gut flutter.

You felt just a little braver. When he pulled you closer, you let him. He rubbed the tip against your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them.

You didn't want his cock down your throat. Didn't want to feel like you were choking. But everything he'd done to you so far had been miles different to the gunslingers. Maybe he'd be different in this too.

Slowly, you opened your mouth. You expected him to shove himself inside you, betray the tiny bit of trust he'd built.

He didn't. Instead, he stood perfectly still. He even stopped using your hand, though he kept it wrapped around the base. Just letting you get comfortable. Letting you explore.

It was what your daddy did when he was working to tame a colt. He'd let them get used to him a little at a time, until they didn't mind his touch at all.

You were too nervous to take him in much deeper than the tip. But he didn't complain at all, just watched you with those golden eyes.

You sucked on him. Just the tip, but you wrapped your lips around him and treated it like it was candy. You flicked your tongue across the underside of his head, eyes locked on his to see if he liked it.

And from the way his breathing was picking up, you reckoned he liked it plenty.

Hadn't the gunslinger wanted you to kiss his? Maybe that's what men wanted. You pulled off his cock with a wet little pop and turned your attention to his shaft. You kissed him - small, shy little pecks all the way down to his hand and then back up again.

He was smiling, head tilted. He almost seemed amused.

"So that's how you like it, huh?"

You hummed, not sure how to respond. Both the gunslingers and the boss kept getting faster the closer they were to finishing. Maybe if you used your hand...

He seemed surprised when you moved your palm, but it didn't last long. When he was sure of what you were doing, he let go of your hand and let you do it all by yourself.

There was a lot of friction and you couldn't go as fast as you wanted without yanking on him. You needed some kind of lube, something to make him all slick...

Oh.

Of course.

You licked him, all the way from balls to tip, trying to drool on his cock as much as possible. He shivered, voice getting just a bit tighter.

"Careful girl. You're playing with fire."

You didn't know what he meant. All you wanted was to finish this. Be able to rest and dream sweet dreams, dreams without men's hands on your body.

His cock was wet with your spit and when you started using your hand, it squelched lewdly.

He groaned, his hand coming to your jaw and his thumb tracing your lips.

"Open your mouth for me, beauty."

You did. You couldn't look away from his eyes. That burnished gold like dead man's treasure.

He pressed his thumb against your tongue, ran it over your teeth. He seemed just as captivated by you as you were by him. The men outside were laughing again, voices raised and vulgar. But he didn't for a second look away from you.

He smiled and said something to you in a language you didn't understand.

Your hand was moving a lot faster now that you'd found your stride, your thumb brushing over his slit on every third stroke. The only sign that he was getting closer was his breathing.

At the last second, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and rested his tip against your lips.

Hot spunk shot at you, some of it dribbling down your chin and some of it coating your tongue. He groaned, jaw clenched tight. He was panting like a dog on a hot day, still looking at you like you were the finest thing he'd ever seen.

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with his thumb, smearing his load between your lips and across your teeth. He spoke in his language again, words just a little more forceful than before.

You thought he was done with you. Thought he'd be satisfied with leaving.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you. One hand was still on your nape and you had no room to pull away.

It was your first proper kiss. He was hungry, his tongue scraping across your teeth. One hand came to rest behind you on the bed, and he slowly forced you down, still caught between his lips and his hand.

He ended up between your legs, still not letting you go even though you were both almost out of breath.

"Beauty," he muttered, lips pressing against on yours.

When he finally broke away, he didn't go far. He rested his forehead to yours, breathing hard. You were sharing the same air, in that tight little space. And somehow that felt more intimate than anything else the outlaws had done to you.

He was practically lying on top of you, the hand that held your neck now tangled in your hair, and his other at your waist. He held you like a lover would.

A lover. Would you ever have one, if they let you go? Who would want you after your virgin's blood was spilled?

He kissed your cheek, slow and lingering.

"Oh beauty, how can I be so lucky?"

He didn't let you go. Just held you underneath him and laid his head on the side of your neck.

You were tense, muscles all coiled and ready to be hurt. But in his arms, you relaxed a little at a time without even realising it. This man wouldn't hurt you, whatever his reasons were.

His dark hair had come loose from it's braid and you absentmindedly brushed it off his brow. That made him smile just a little.

It had grown quiet outside and the only sound was of the breeze rustling the curtains and his soft breathing.

"How did such a kind man become an outlaw?"

You didn't really mean to ask that. And kind couldn't be applied to him without qualifiers. But in the face of everything that had happened to you, his softness was saintly.

He hummed against your neck.

"Bad luck. Bad people. Having nowhere to go back to. It changes you."

You swallowed, sad though you weren't sure why.

"I'm sorry."

He pushed himself up and looked into your eyes.

"Don't be. You're my reward, my reparation."

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek again. "I've waited my whole life for you."

You wanted to ask why. What made you so special? Why did he want to keep you?

The door opened with a bang.

"Are ya really still busy? That ain't fuckin' fair."

The gunslingers were standing in the door, both of them looking irritated. Your whole body tensed. They couldn't be back so soon, could they?

The wrangler pushed himself to his knees. The way he was sitting, your hips ended up on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He put a hand on your thigh absent-mindedly.

When he looked back at them, any softness in him drained away. He was just another outlaw with hard eyes.

"Is it the boy? Boss is really letting you go through with it?"

"It's 'bout time he became a man. And you're the one who was goin' on 'bout playing nice."

The wrangler sighed and looked back at you. When he spoke, it was just for you to hear. 

"I don't want to leave you, beauty. But boss's orders."

He leaned down and kissed you, ignoring the gunslingers' cat calls.

When he stood up, you had half a mind to ask him to stay. You almost reached for him. But the gunslingers were watching you and something in you whispered that showing him favour was a terrible idea. You kept your hands knotted in the sheets. For both your sakes.

When he was gone, you sat up and pushed yourself all the way back to the headboard. Hugged your knees to your chest. You hadn't noticed him earlier, but the gunslingers had a boy with them.

They were half dragging him into the room, one with his hand on the boy's nape and the other with a fist in his shirt.

He was young, barely past eighteen. Slightly built, with pale eyes and bronze curls. He wasn't looking at you. Or more accurately, he was doing everything possible to avoid looking at you.

The gunslingers gave him a rough shove and he landed on the bed, bouncing a little before he pushed himself up.

"Gonna get your first taste of a woman boy, and she's a real fine one."

The green eyed gunslinger leaned over and grabbed your ankle. With one brutal yank, he dragged you away from the headboard and all the way to the foot of the bed.

"Missed me, sweetheart? 'Cause I sure missed you."

He caught one of your wrists and tutted.

"Just like him to let you loose. Fuckin' hell, don't he realise how much easier you are when you're all tied up?"

He knelt with one boot on the mattress and pulled you up, twisting your arm behind your back so you ended up with your head tucked under his chin.

"We was feelin' real bad 'bout hurting you, pretty. So we thought we'd make it up to you. Brought you somethin' you'll really enjoy."

You were skeptical of anything he did. He wasn't the charitable kind.

The boy finally looked at you. His eyes were round, nervous.

"Do... do you want this?"

The gunslinger slapped a palm over your mouth before you could answer him, dragging you closer to him at the same time.

" 'Course she wants it. She'd be fighting a whole lot harder if she didn't. Ain't that right?"

"Would be clawing our eyes out if she really didn't want it," the other gunslinger agreed.

The boy looked rightly skeptical. You were crying an awful lot for someone who "wanted it."

"But..."

The dark skinned gunslinger sighed and grabbed the boy's neck.

"Look at her. You're tellin' me you ain't getting just a little hard seeing her like that?"

"Yes but -"

"But what? You want her. And she's right there for the taking. It ain't complicated."

The man holding you was obviously getting impatient.

"You wanna be a man? Wanna come on jobs with us? Than fucking earn it."

That seemed to decide him. He crawled towards you, just as scared to touch you as you were to be touched.

"What do I do?"

"Open her legs and start eating."

He touched your knee. He gulped, focused entirely on the feel of you. He slowly let his hands drift up your thighs.

When he reached your mid thighs, he tried to pull them apart just a little. You kept your legs as tightly closed as you could. Whatever you tried to say was muffled by the gunslinger's hand, but it was enough to make the boy look up at your face.

You could see it in his eyes. The desire to have you and the horror at knowing this was all forced. In the end, guilt won.

"I can't."

He pulled away from you, his fingers shaking.

"She doesn't want this. How can you hold her down and make her take it?"

The dark skinned gunslinger clicked his teeth in annoyance.

"God, could you be any more pathetic? It don't matter what she wants. All that matters is that you're strong enough to take what you want."

The boy was almost off the bed when the gunslinger grabbed his hair and yanked him back.

"It's a lesson you gotta learn boy. Or you ain't gonna live long in this business."

The boy yelped, hands coming up to try and pull himself loose. You could have told him it was useless - you couldn't escape their hold no matter how hard you fought.

He dragged the boy across the bed and back to you.

The gunslinger holding you could see where this was going and he laughed, mean and mocking.

"Gonna be the hard way, eh?"

His hand dropped from your mouth and curled around your throat. He squeezed, just hard enough to remind you of his strength.

"Be a good little pet and open your legs."

You didn't. Hadn't they done enough already? They'd ruined you. Why not just leave the boy alone?

The gunslinger growled. "Ain't listening so well without my belt around your throat, is that it?"

He twisted your arm further up your back, until your whole shoulder was throbbing. You squirmed, arching against him to get the pressure off. 

"Do I gotta teach you a whole new lesson in obedience? I promise I'm a much harder master than the boss."

He let go of you throat and grabbed your thigh, his fingers digging into the meat. His partner was quick to do the same on your other leg. It wasn't any good fighting them. They weren't scared of hurting you and they didn't care if they left bruises.

They wrenched your thighs apart and the gunslinger shoved the boys head between your legs.

"You ain't scared of a lil' blood, are ya? Clean her up nice and good."

The boy looked up at you with tears brimming in his waterline.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't have the boss's skill. His tongue was soft, hesitant. Probing, but totally unsure what to do.

You shivered at the feeling of his lips on your clit, his warm breath tickling your thighs.

The gunslinger growled and pushed him further down, until his nose was grinding into your folds.

"She ain't gonna get away. Use your whole tongue, suck on her, bite. Fuck's sake, do we gotta do everything for you?"

The one at your back laughed and nipped your cheek.

"She wants it though. Just look at those pretty tears."

The boy whimpered but did as he was told, dragging his tongue all the way up. His hands came to rest on your thighs, skin so much softer than the other men's.

His teeth brushed your clit and you gasped. The boy froze.

And then, he did it again.

You shuddered, thighs shaking just a little. He didn't seem to notice it, but his grip on your legs was getting tighter. He focused on the sensitive spot he'd found, raking his tongue across it.

You made another small, involuntary sound.

The man at your back purred. "There. Ain't that sweet to hear?"

The boy started to suck on your clit, tongue hot and wet. He pushed himself deeper, his nose and chin both buried in your cunt. He didn't even notice when the gunslinger let go of his hair.

He curled his arm around your lower back and pulled you closer to him, almost lifting you off the bed. The wet sounds of his sucking filled the room.

The gunslinger let go of you thigh, satisfied that the boy had a good grip on you. He kissed the corner of your lips, his hand coming up to play with your tits.

"Y'know, we never did get to make you come. Can't help wonderin' what you sound like."

You kept your jaw clenched tight. You weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

He must have read your mind, because he chuckled. Pinched your nipple hard enough that you bucked in his grip.

"Oh, you're going to come for us. Ain't that right boy?"

The boy muttered something and went right back to eating you out. You could feel the same heat in your belly as when the boss had you. Like a band about to snap. Every little move was too much, every flick of his tongue on your clit was somehow more intense.

You squirmed, trying everything you could to get him off. The boy ignored you. Just held on a little tighter and pinned you thigh to the bed.

"Please," you whined. "It's too much."

The gunslingers snickered at that.

"Poor darlin'. Does it hurt real good?"

"Don't fight it. Just let it happen. No one will know except us."

"And we're real good at keeping secrets."

The extra mean gunslinger pressed his cheek against yours and looked down at the boy between your legs.

"Don't tell me you're shy. We're real well acquainted by now, ain't we?"

You hated when he spoke to you like that. All sweetly condescending.

The boy wasn't letting up. Just kept sucking your clit and dipping his flexed tongue into your hole, switching from one to the other like he couldn't get enough. Like you were water in the desert and he'd drop dead without you in his mouth.

You fisted the duvet in your free hand, trying to distract yourself. No good. Your body had wants and needs of its own.

You could feel it building and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it.

You threw your head back and bit your lip, but it still wasn't enough. Small whines and gasps slipped through.

Your cunt was clenching, your whole belly a warm knot finally coming undone. It felt better than good.

It felt fucking incredible.

The boy didn't seem to notice. He just kept at it, even though your clit was swollen and aching and bright with blood.

The gunslinger noticed though. You could feel him smiling against your neck.

He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and then kissed all the way down to your shoulder.

"Maybe we ought to be nicer, if that's what you sound like."

"Like a fox in a trap. Whinin' so nice 'fer us."

Your whole body felt like you touched lightening. And the boy's tongue was the worst if it.

"Please, enough. I...can't..."

The dark skinned gunslinger leaned closer to you, smiling in a way that wasn't nice at all.

"You're so sweet when you beg, filly. Ask politely and I'll get him off you."

You swallowed your pride. What was left of it after today anyway? They'd seen far too much of you for you to hold onto false modesty.

"Please. It's too much. Just make it stop."

Maybe it was your voice or maybe it was your tears or maybe he was just feeling merciful after emptying his balls inside you. He grabbed the boy's hair and hauled him up.

The kid's lips were red and swollen, his whole jaw slick with spit and spunk. He looked dazed, eyes still on the spot between your thighs.

"I'm not done yet. Can't I just..."

"Ain't complaining now, are ya? You see why we went through all that trouble for her?"

He was still holding onto you and he made a half hearted tug to get you closer to him.

"Five more minutes. Please."

The gunslinger scoffed. "You think just 'cause you had a taste you can make demands?"

He pulled the boy's hair and dragged him off the bed. His jeans were bulging at the crotch and his eyes never left you.

"But you said -"

"We said that you'd get a taste. Nothin' more."

The gunslinger holding you spoke up, his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

"You gotta earn it boy. Our girl ain't gonna be wasted on some greenhorn."

"Gonna have to make do with your fist, like the rest of us had to."

When the boy was off the bed, the gunslinger let go of your arm and shoved you forward. You landed on your forearms, your body sprawled in front of him.

He planted a hard smack on your ass and leaned over you, lips brushing your hair.

"You'd better dream about me sweetheart. Better feel me in your mouth when you close your eyes."

His fingers swiped across your cunt, rough and probing. You winced at the feel of him.

"Or else I'll just have to fuck you so hard the memory is burned into your mind."

You looked over your shoulder, eyes catching his for just a second. Long enough to realise he meant every word of his threat. He smirked, satisfied.

He stood and grabbed the boy by his upper arm. Together with his partner, they bundled him out the door. Business all finished, eh?

You sagged into the bed and watched them leave, your cunt still pulsing when you moved. You were exhausted and you looked it, too tired to push yourself up.

A hand caught the door before it closed.

Another one? How much more were you supposed to take?

The newcomer nudged the door back open and stood there for a minute, watching you. He had a bowl of water in his hand, a wash rag thrown over the side.

You hadn't seen his face before, but you recognised him. The tall, well spoken one who made you ride on his horse.

He was dressed better than most of the others. A black, silk waist coat and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck.

It made you want to laugh. What God could he worship, when he was a sinner so black?

"Hello dove."

You didn't answer. Just watched him with your cunt fluttering and your lips bruised. 

He was the palest out of them all, skin more like a scholar's than a cowboy's. He had black hair, as long as the gunslinger's, but tied back. He was probably Chinese, but born on this side of the Pacific. His accent was almost the same as yours.

He walked towards you slowly. Not nervous, but more like he was worried about spooking you.

He put the bowl of water down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, half facing you.

"It must hurt."

You stayed quiet. What did he know of hurt? He wasn't the one being held down and fucked.

He nodded at the bowl. You hadn't noticed it, but the water was a milky white.

"That's to clean you up. I reckon they left a few more cuts and scrapes than they intended."

You found your voice. Smaller, meeker than you remembered.

"Why do you care?"

"You think we don't care?"

You blinked. Of course you thought that. What else was there to think? They were outlaws who took you to satisfy themselves for an afternoon or two. What more could there be?

He laughed, but it was a bitter thing.

"Oh, qīn’ài de. If we didn't care, you'd still be a free woman."

You didn't understand what he was getting at. He sighed and reached for your ankle.

You jerked away. You didn't want to be touched ever again. Not by a man, not by anyone.

He sighed again.

"Don't be difficult. I want to help you."

"Why?"

He was quiet. Just watching you with his dark eyes. There was something familiar about him, though you couldn't tell what.

Finally, "You don't remember me."

You were in no frame of mind to care about his feelings.

"No."

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on his knuckles. Like a man at prayer. He turned his head a little to speak to you.

"It's been a long time, but you saved my life once."

You frowned, totally blank.

"You were still just a girl. Thirteen or fourteen maybe. I'd just turned twenty, part of a gang for the first time and too damn cocky."

He rubbed the skin just above his thumb. There was an ugly scar there, the skin still raised and puckered after all these years.

"Our heist went wrong. Sherrif and his deputies were waiting for us. I got shot. Not so bad that it would kill me, but bad enough that I couldn't make it home."

You couldn't see where this was going.

"Ended up in a barn, bleeding everywhere. I heard footsteps and I thought for sure I was done for. That the rancher was going to blow my brains all over the wall. But it wasn't him that found me."

You sat up slowly and ended up on your knees, your back to him. You thought you understood now, but you let him keep speaking.

"Wasn't him, but his daughter. Dropped the milk when she saw me but she didn't scream. Just came over and asked how she could help me. Me. A wanted man who'd just killed six deputies."

You didn't know that part of the story. All you remembered was the hot summer sun slanting through the cracks in the barn, and the young man bleeding out in the hay. You remembered him digging the bullet out and asking you to stitch him up, his face going all pale.

You closed you eyes and it was like you were right back there, hiding him in the hayloft and telling your pa the blood on your dress was from killing a chicken.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Because you looked scared. And because I was a little in love with you."

That probably wasn't the answer he was expecting. You pulled in a shuddering breath.

"You were older than me, but still so young. The most handsome man I'd ever met. You told me you got shot by mistake, and not to tell anyone because it would get your little brother in trouble."

You could hear a smile in his voice.

"And you believed me?"

"Yes. Why would you lie to me? Outlaws were just a thing from stories. And I suppose I wanted to believe you. You told me I was going to be really pretty someday, that you'd have to come back and marry me. No one had ever said anything like that to me."

He hummed. "You really thought I was handsome?"

"Yes."

He still was, but he had none of the sweet, boyish softness you remembered. He was handsome in a hard, dangerous way. Diamond rough. You could cut your skin on the sharpness of him.

"But what does that have to do with anything? Why...why do this to me, if you owe me your life?"

He sighed and reached for you. He hooked his arm around your waist and dragged you onto his lap.

"I kept checking in on you over the years, do you know that? Every time I was near your ranch I'd ride out and look for you. Always watching."

"Why?"

"I felt like I owed you. I wanted to make sure you were fine. And when you got older...well, I just liked looking at you."

You shivered. There was something in his voice, a longing far deeper than anyone of the other cowboys'.

"Will you let me go when you're done?"

He sighed and tucked your hair behind your ear.

"Maybe that would be the merciful option. But we aren't merciful men."

He pulled your head onto his shoulder when you started crying.

"You're going to stay with us, qīn’ài de. For a very, very long time."

"Why now? Why..."

His hand was soft in your hair, his voice even softer.

"You're young, lovely, a rancher's only child. How much longer 'til your pa started to consider marriage? And who would come knocking on his door? No, I couldn't loose you to them."

"You're the one..." you tried pulling away but he kept you still, head against his shoulder.

"Me," he agreed, "I'm the one to blame for this. And even knowing that, I wouldn't take it back."

"The others..."

"Brutes, aren't they? But they're my brothers. And once they saw you, they wanted you too."

He said he couldn't loose you to another man, but that didn't make any sense.

"If that's true, why did you let the others..." You swallowed, not sure how to go on.

"Why did I let the others have you first?"

You nodded. He played with the cross on his necklace. Finally, he spoke.

"Because I want the most time with you."

He pulled away to look at you and you realised how wrong you were. It wasn't that he didn't feel any lust for you, it was just that he hid it far better than the rest of them.

But now... oh, his was the worst you'd seen. Boiling hot, on the end of its tether. This was a man who wanted you. Who'd spent years wanting you.

He laid a palm on your thigh.

"They got you for an hour each maybe. But I'm going to have you all night."

[the-palelady]

when cowboy!ghost is leaving the clinic after his usual visit to his favorite nurse he always makes sure to let her know he loves her. his job is dangerous. last thing he wants is for him to go out without her knowing how much she means to him.

so one day he gives your lower back a pat, whispering a “love ya, sweetheart,” before turning to leave.

however, you don’t say it back.

simon stops dead in his tracks while you continue on about your business. for a moment he waits it out, maybe you didn’t hear him? maybe something else caught your attention and you had to take care of it before responding?

but your response never comes.

so he turns to face you, his expression nothing short of annoyed, eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight under the bandana that obscures the lower half of his face.

your back is turned to him when he stomps over towards you. he minds your hands of course, making sure you aren’t holding any of the doctor’s instruments before he turns you around, jolting you from your work.

your eyes meet a raging fire, his pupils almost dilated. your cheeks are pinched between his thumb and fingers, lips pursed.

“si-“

his voice is a deep rumble, thunder clapping in the distance.

“i said…i love ya, honey. now i know that pretty mouth of yours hasn’t forgotten how to say it, or do i need to give it a reminder?”

[earlgreylatte]

Variant Madness

You thought he was your Mark.

Omni Mark and Shiesty Mark 2V1 you.

Breathing in, you savour the fresh air of the mountain trail you find yourself on. You had visited years ago, but you decided to come again to enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could find a cool rock for Mark and Oliver, too.

You hope things are peaceful for them too, but even if there is another threat that needs to be taken care of, you’re sure Mark would be able to come find you easily enough.

You feel a bit pathetic that you already miss him, even though you’re going to see him in a couple of hours. You suddenly find yourself understanding Debbie’s usual amusement when she watched you two. You really acted like a lovesick puppy, sometimes.

Feeling your phone buzz from your pocket, you fumble for a second as you’re broken from your thoughts, rooting through your jacket to find it. Just as your fingers begin to pull it out a sudden rush of air hits you from behind, your jacket’s hood suddenly pushed over your head as you drop your phone onto the soil as dirt is kicked up into the air.

You whip around, to find…Mark? He was still wearing his black and blue suit, but his entire head was now covered, making him look a little intimidating, with his mouth and hair covered.

He stares at you wordlessly.

“Were you in that much of a rush to show me your new costume? I mean, you just got a new one from Art just a couple of months ago,” you speak up, rubbing the dirt out of your eyes, “Honestly, you could have caused a dirt storm or something…”

He breathes out your name.

You tilt your head, “Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are Debbie and Oliver okay—!?”

Your worrying is cut off when within an instant he has you crushed to his chest, arms locked around you as he buried his head against your neck.

“I just really missed you,” he whispers.

Looks like he’s a lovesick puppy, too.

You can’t hold back a dopey smile, “I missed you too.”

You jolt in his arms when you realize your phone is still vibrating; a redial, so possibly urgent.

“Mark, my phone—“

You’re interrupted again when he pivots you so your back hits a nearby tree, his mask rolled up enough to reveal his mouth which soon presses against yours.

Anything you wanted to say is forgotten as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groans into your mouth as his hands plant themselves to your waist as he places a knee in between your legs.

He moves from your lips to your neck, pressing adoring kisses against your pulse point before helping you shrug off your jacket, letting it to the ground as his hands slide under your shirt, gloved fingers brushing against your ribcage.

“Mark,” you breathe, heart swelling at the sweet intimacy he was more than willing to give you.

Your attention is broken again when you notice your phone is still ringing, your gaze sliding from the man nestled against you to the forest floor where your phone laid.

Your body stiffens.

The caller ID illuminating your phone was one you could recognize even from afar just from the amount of heart emojis you set for…your boyfriend.

The boyfriend that was currently with you.

Whose grip on you begins to tighten as your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

You shakily bring up your hands to hook your fingers beneath his mask, slowly pulling it up as he remains as still as a statue. The face is familiar, if not a little more worn, but the brown eyes you held so dear were now filled with a sadness deep enough to drown you.

This wasn’t your Mark.

Mark was definitely lucky he was attractive, you decide.

If he wasn’t, you definitely wouldn’t have tolerated the sheer annoyance his two variants were causing you.

“Were you a virgin or something until now? Because you fuck like a noob,” A Mark with a wild rag mask laughed as the one that was dressed like Omni Man 2.0 pounded into you, your back pressed against an alleyway wall, the area long deserted from the destruction the two men unleashed on the city.

“I doubt you even know what you’re talking about, with how you talk like a preteen boy,” The red and white Mark huffs, tone passive enough that you’d think he didn’t care about his copy’s words if not for his pace speeding up and his thrusts going deeper and deeper until your voice reaches a new octave.

The other Mark scoffs, “Well, not that she minds, already looks cockdrunk off your tiny dick. Hey, sweetheart, bet I can take you to heaven and back with one stroke.”

“I will kill you.” The Mark fucking into you, tightens his grip, turning to death stare the now laughing Invincible.

“Aww, is daddy mad? Scared she’s going to want to run away with me once I slip my dick in her?”

You can’t believe you have to orgasm while listening to their dumbass argument…

“Hey, if you’re going to hog her pussy, at least move her so I can put that mouth to use—“

Annoying people really shouldn’t be so hot.

The invincible tag is so good rn, I’m actually in tears…

Decided to do a 2in1 special because people really want me to make a part two of that other variant post…it will come…

Masterlist

[frenchcoucou]

giddy up 🧑🏻‍🌾

ac: kayaxxo

[fairylights-throughthemist]

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[alexispunkkk]

the giver

READ HERE!!

- pairing: joel x reader x tommy

- summary: the ‘sweetheart’ of jackson has two brothers wrapped around her pretty little finger, and they’re ready to take what she’s willing to give

- warnings: sex, threesome (m/m/f), rough sex, oral (m receiving), hair pulling, light spanking, cum eating/swallowing, sort of cucking, alcohol consumption, manhandling, creampie, light fingering, joel lovessss ass, kissing, neck kissing, thigh riding, orgasms

roughly inspired by the song ‘the giver’ by the lovely chappell roan.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Okokokok SO….. I know the cowboy!reader is already set up with JJ- but what if there’s like one fic with hotch instead of JJ as the love interest?

Love your work! Make sure to eat and drink some water!

-Gay trash panda

Oooooo!!! Is it really bad if now I want to do that as a separate series? My whole tumblr is just gonna be cowboy reader, I can see it now (I mean it already is - don't worry I fucking love cowboy reader)

combination of this ask too

Warnings: mentions of death, child deaths, yelling, kissing (fairy heavy make out scene which feels weird to type), yelling

Taglist at the bottom of the post

When you first joined the team, Hotch was a dick. He didn’t trust you, he didn’t like that the decision to add you to the team didn’t go through him. And he made that known from day one.

He had made snippy comments from your first day and had yet to stop. You would catch him glaring at you for no specific reason. You would always be the first one he sent back to the hotel on a case. And you were sick of it. It made you want to rip your hair out. 

This time, he was particularly annoyed because you had intervened during a hostage situation. Everyone else was practically sitting ducks, trying to talk him down when there was a little boy with him. You had disobeyed direct orders and snuck into the building, taking the unsub down (you knocked him out). Hotch was absolutely fuming from the second he realised you were gone. Stream practically flew out of his ears. 

You all head back to the police station in silence, Hotch motioning for you to get in the same car as him, Reid, and Rossi. Tension filling the air. You all made your way back to the bullpen, thankful the case was close by. 

“(Y/N), my office. Now.” Hotch says, walking past you, going straight to his office. 

“Good luck,” Morgan mumbles as you walked past him. 

You walk in. 

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Hotch snaps, as soon as you were in his office, door not yet fully closed before he’s yelling.

“What was I thinkin’?” You scoffed, “I was thinkin’ a kid needed help and none of y’all seemed to be doin’ anything about it!”

“You know it takes time to talk an unsub down!”

“N I weren’t willin’ to wait!” You snap. “I didn’t wan’ another dead kid in my arms!”

“You were reckless! If you keep going like that, you will end up with another dead kid in your arms!” He exclaimed. 

You don’t care that he’s your boss, that this is probably going to get you fired. All you can think about is the anger as you slam him against the wall. You both glare at each other, chests rising heavily. Silence passed, both of you glaring at each other, chests still rising angrily.

“You keep breathin’ like that n I’m gonna wanna kiss that pretty mouth of yours,” You mumble. 

And the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. And he's breathing heavily, the thought of you pressed against him causing his brain to short circuit. You don’t hesitate, kissing him back. The argument and hatred forgotten, your hands gripping his blazer tightly as you push against him, deepening the kiss.

Some clears their throat and you both pull away at record speed. Ignoring the potential whiplash, you turned to the noise, Garcia grinned at you both. “Thank God you finally realised, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

Taglist:

@xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax @ara-a-bird @poolclaws @chaosofmanyfandoms

@prmsn-17 @logicalhorror @shane18492 @iliketozoneout @goth-boi-atlas

@introvertpan84 @13thdoctor-run @winterwitchxxfan @ducks118 @woodandwaxwings

@aphroditeslovr @wizardmon3 @pinxeajin @pendragon-writes @chubbyboyinflannel

@migwayne @bigolgay @technikerin23 @supercriminalbean @honestlycasualarcade

@1s3v3n1 @oddmiles @kevyeen @stealing-kneecaps @criminalskies

@azeal-peal @luvfornick

[thelittleangel]

Cowboys are frequently (secretly) fond of each other

Part 2

Tags: Dean Winchester x Cowboy! Reader, fluff, flirting, male reader, soft romance.

Warnings: possibly OOC, no use of Y/N.

Taglist: @wraith-posts @waywardseraph @agroovygoose @pumpkinhead666

part 3 END

He looked at me, then at my father, then back to me.  I focus on my hands on the table.  My father was the first to speak. “I’ve been tracking this thing for a while.”  I open my mouth, choking on the lump in my throat.  “What is it?”

My father looks over at me.  “A vampire.”  I start thinking back to all of the evidence of the last case.  “But that doesn’t make sense.  It was an animal that was killed, not a person.”  

“Son, with all due respect, I've been on this case a lot longer than you.”  I looked up at him in shock.  “How long have you been in town, dad?”  He looked over at me, his expression kept neutral.  “How long?” I demanded.  His expression turned into something more solemn.  “Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?  And you didn’t even try to make contact with me?”

“I knew you wouldn’t want to get involved.”

I felt my expression morph into that of anger.  “You’re my dad!  And you’re always moving around, so it’s not like I'm ever going to see you unless you’re passing through.”

My father’s face crumpled into a face of sorrow and irritation.  His eyebrows scrunched into an expression of anger.  “That wouldn’t even be a problem if you had never left the life.”

I scoff, my eyes stinging with tears.  I managed to put a smile on my face. “And here I thought you supported me.  Guess I was wrong.”  I grab my coat and hat and leave the bar.  I put my hat on my head and stepped outside, but then stopped when I realized that someone drove me here. 

 I put on my jacket, and the door opened behind me.  “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.”  but a different voice answered me.  “Good thing I'm not your dad.  You sound like a spitfire when you’re angry.”

I turn around and look at Dean.  I study his face for any changes, but it’s mostly the same.  Still the same freckles.  Still the same stubble, the same eyes.  God, I adore those eyes.  I could never get tired of those eyes.

  I study his expression yet again.  He’s hurt, confused, but there’s still some affection there.  “I’m so sorry.”  he blinks.  More confusion.  

“Why are you sorry?”  

“I could have told you.”  

He steps closer to me, his expression going soft.  “Baby, we didn’t know.  It’s ok.”

I laugh.

“What?”

“I didn’t know we were using pet names this early in our relationship.”

His expression brightens considerably.  “There’s a relationship?”

My face begins to copy his grin.  “There could be, but I'm gonna need your name first.”

He sticks out his hand for a shake.  “Dean.  Winchester.”

I shake his hand and gently pull him close to me.  He smiles and rests his forehead against mine.  I look into those green eyes and breathe in his scent.  He smells like gun smoke and leather.  The love in his eyes is so pure and so intense.  

“Hey.  what do you say we get out of here?”

I let out a girlish giggle and take his hand.  We ran back to his car and got inside.  

He turns the heaters on, putting our hands in front of it.  We smile at each other for a soft and warm moment.  

I gently take his head into my hands.  Looking at him now, those green eyes are all I see.  I could see the most beautiful forests in the world, but they wouldn’t be Dean's eyes.  I lean away from him and take off my hat, gently placing it on his head.

His laughs, tilting the hat.  I look deeper into his eyes.  His face sobers up, looking deeply into mine.  He gently slides the hat off.  His hands find their way to my waist.  He pulls me onto his lap.  

“What are we going to do about the vamps?”

My hands are on the back of his neck. “I think that’s a problem for the future Dean.”

A goofy grin slips onto my face. “What about right now Dean?”

He smiles, and the dying sunlight hits his eyes in that way that makes them glow.  

He leans forward, with a smile.  “I’m sure he can think of a few ideas.”

I lean with him.  I place a hand on his cheek.  I feel the smile drop from my face.  I look into his green, green eyes for what feels like an eternity. 

Our breaths begin to blend into each other, becoming another beautiful product of us.  His eyes became half lidded, his expression going soft.  I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.  

“Hey.” 

I open my eyes. “Yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want to be a part of my life?  I’m not gonna lie to you, there’s always crap going on.”

My grip on his face becomes firmer.  “I want this.  All of this.  I want your crap, your bad days.  I want your sadness and your joy too.  I want to share your life with mine.  I want to be a part of your life.  I want you.”

“And I want all of yours.”  He holds out his pinky.  “I know it seems like a cliche, but…promise?”

“I can think of a better idea.”

I pull him into me, our lips crashing together.

 I feel the rest of the world fall away, and all that’s left is him and I.

[sweet4rafe]

FIRST TIME ˎˊ˗

summary: the handsome cowboy hired by your father to help around the farm has been eyeing you, for weeks. on this fateful summer evening, rafe finally decides to do something about the attraction he felt towards you— his employer's daughter.

the barn smelled like hay & fresh wood, warm even with the night air creeping in through the gaps in the beams. you were used to it, used to the quiet hum of crickets outside, the occasional rustling from the horses in their stalls. what you weren’t used to was him.

rafe was leaning against the old workbench, arms crossed, watching you with that lazy sort of gaze that made your stomach feel tight. he’d been helping your dad with repairs all week, sleeves pushed up, hands always busy with something, lifting, hammering, fixing things you never paid attention to before. you’d barely spoken more than a few words to him, but the way he looked at you now made it feel like he already had you figured out.

you wiped your palms on the front of your dress, swallowing hard. “shouldn’t you be heading home?”

he tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “you tryna get rid of me, berry girl?”

your face felt hot. that’s what he called you after catching you out in the fields, basket in hand, fingers stained red from fresh picked fruit. like he thought it was cute. like he thought you were.

“no,” you muttered, shaking your head, “just… my daddy don’t like me talkin’ to boys much.”

“yeah?” rafe pushed off the bench, closing the space between you. he didn’t touch you, just stood close enough that you had to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. “good thing i’m a man, then.”

your breath caught. he was teasing, you knew that, but it didn’t make the heat pooling in your belly any less real.

his hand lifted, fingertips ghosting over the end of one of your braids, tugging at the ribbon tied at the end. “s’cute,” he murmured. “all done up like this. makes me wonder if you’ve ever had someone mess ‘em up before.”

you shook your head, wide eyed, not trusting yourself to speak.

“thought so.” his fingers brushed your jaw next, tipping your chin up higher. “you ever been kissed, sweet?”

your silence was answer enough.

“shit,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “shouldn’t be looking at me like that, then. makes me wanna ruin you.”

your knees nearly buckled at that, something unfamiliar twisting inside you. your inexperience must’ve been obvious, because rafe hummed, guiding you back until your spine met the wooden stall behind you.

“c’mon,” he coaxed, voice low. “just a little taste. lemme show you how it feels.”

your lips parted to protest, but rafe was already there, dipping down, mouth slanting over yours. it was softer than you expected, but only for a moment. then he was tilting his head, deepening it, swallowing the tiny noise that slipped from your throat.

his hands found your waist, gripping firm as he pulled you flush against him, and oh, you felt him. thick and hot, pressing into your stomach through his jeans.

you gasped, pulling back slightly, and rafe just smirked, breath fanning against your lips. “you feel that, baby?”

you nodded, dazed, fingers clutching at his shirt.

“s’all for you,” he murmured, sliding a hand lower, gathering the hem of your dress. “if you wanna stop, tell me now.”

you didn’t. couldn’t.

so when his fingers slipped between your thighs, you let him.

his fingers traced along the inside of your thigh, warm and rough, calloused from days of working under the sun. you shivered at the touch, your breath hitching when he dragged them higher, teasing.

“you’re shakin’, baby,” rafe murmured, his lips barely grazing your jaw. “nervous?”

you nodded, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. you’d never done this before, never even thought about doing something like this in the barn, of all places, but rafe was looking at you like you were something to be devoured, and the way he touched you made you feel like you could trust him.

“don’t be,” he soothed, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, a stark contrast to the filth spilling from his mouth. “gonna take care of you.”

his fingers finally dipped between your legs, brushing against the cotton of your panties. you gasped, instinctively trying to press your thighs together, but rafe clicked his tongue, prying them back apart.

“none of that,” he chided, amusement lacing his tone. “lemme see how sweet you are.”

he pressed down, slow and deliberate, rubbing tight, lazy circles over the fabric. a whimper escaped your lips, your back arching slightly against the wooden stall.

“fuck,” rafe breathed, watching you. “this all for me?”

you nodded, of course it was, it had only ever been for him, but the confirmation made something dark flicker in his eyes.

“such a good girl,” he murmured, slipping his fingers beneath your panties, dragging them through your slick. your whole body tensed at the foreign sensation, hips twitching as he spread it over your clit, circling it with the lightest pressure.

“rafe,” you gasped, not even sure what you were asking for, but he understood.

“shh, just let me do it, baby,” he soothed, slipping a finger inside you. your walls fluttered around the intrusion, the stretch unfamiliar but not unwelcome. rafe groaned, head dropping to the crook of your neck. “fuck, you’re tight.”

your breath came in soft, uneven pants, your fingers gripping his shoulders. he moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, before sliding a second finger in, scissoring them carefully.

“you’re takin’ it so well,” he murmured, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, making you look at him. “feel good?”

you nodded frantically, unable to speak, pleasure buzzing through you like nothing you’d ever felt before.

rafe smirked, leaning in to press a messy kiss to your lips. “bet you’d feel even better wrapped around my cock.”

your breath hitched at his words, the insinuation making your head spin.

rafe pulled back just enough to gauge your reaction, fingers never stopping their slow, torturous pace. “you want that, baby?”

your thighs trembled, your answer coming out in a desperate, breathless whimper.

“yeah?” rafe chuckled, fingers curling just right, making you keen. “then you better hold onto me, sweetheart. ‘cause i’m about to show you what you’ve been missin’.”