For @pinkumiilku, Hope You Enjoy!

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."

Just working on something special

Reblogging for The Lost Boys ;)

80s movie blinkies

Strange human emotions

Summary: Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: No one really writes about Cas, and it’s a shame because him, Sam and Dean are my absolute favorite. But I hope you enjoy ;)

༺═────────────═༻

He could feel it coming up again, that same burning feeling in his chest that keeps him up deep into the night. Not that he can sleep to begin with, but still the feeling invaded his every thought as he waited for you and the brothers to wake up. 

Cas didn’t know how to explain it, these strange human emotions that he had learned over the years, he didn’t understand them. He knew the ones that you and the boys had taught him, how it helped him learn to express how he felt to others. And he was truly grateful for it. 

But, the ones that he was never taught always worried him. Like when he could feel when someone is staring at him, even though nobody is in the room with him. Or even worse when you are near, or when you touch his shoulder when you walk past him, or how about when you speak to him so beautifully that he feels his stomach churning into a weird fluttery feeling. 

There must be something wrong, Cas would conclude, pacing the bunker’s library in the dead of night. Maybe you had been taken over by a shapeshifter and this was the universes way of warning him. 

Yeah, that had to be it, but how would he tell Sam and Dean that? For Chucks sake you are one of their closest friends, how could he tell them that they would need to kill you?

No. No, he couldn’t kill you. He just needs to figure it out a bit more by morning, he couldn’t just go on a killing spree. It wouldn’t be right. 

But if you were in danger or you are the danger then he would need to speak to the brothers about this. But, how?

Cas sat across from you and Dean, Sam to his right of the booth as he stared out the fogged window. The falling snow momentarily capturing his attention, the way each flake was built uniquely different from the other. 

It amazed him how something so beautiful could end up in a world like this. 

“Hey, Happy meal.” Dean suddenly spoke up, dragging Cas away from the window. “You gonna focus, or are we gonna have to tell you while we fight the sons of a bitches?”

“I’m focused.” Cas told the older man, his hands coming to rest in his lap. 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” 

Sam cleared his throat, turning his computer to face the others as he began to explain the current case to them. “So, Sophia Cocklen had reported her husband missing, nearly a month ago. And as of three days ago both her brother and eldest son have disappeared as well.”

“Has to have something to do with the men,” you spoke up, dipping a French fry in your ketchup before popping it in your mouth. “Because Sophia’s sister, mother and two daughters hadn’t been touched at all over the past month.”

Sam nodded, clicking on another tab as some police reports popped on screen. “That’s what I thought as well, but the thing is that none of them have any bad records on there name. And…”

Sams voice seemed to drift off, running farther and farther from his ears as the same burning feeling began to arise from his chest. He glanced at you for a quick second, the way you looked at your work and took it seriously. The way your eyes seemed to have a small sparkle in them when you spoke. 

And especially the way your hair slightly fell in front of your eyes, hiding that sparkle that made his stomach erupt. It made him want to reach over the table and push it out of your way, just so he could catch another glimpse of…

You pushed your hair out of your face, halting Cas’s thoughts completely. Why was he thinking that? What were you and the boys talking about? Why did his body’s vessel feel so warm and sweaty? Was it getting hotter? What if you had turned evil? What if this was your way to slowly kill him off?

Him. Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Struck down by a woman that was more than likely possessed by a monster. 

“Cas?” You questioned, facing the angelic being who seemed to be almost in a trance. “You alright? You look like your sweaty.”

Cas pulled at the collar of his trench coat, the feeling of sweat sliding down his neck. Boy, did he hate how the human body can physically act when you don’t need it to. 

“Yes,” He told you rubbing his hands against his pants legs. “Yes I’m fine it’s just a little warm in here is all.”

“Really?” Dean asked, taking a quick sip from his lukewarm coffee. “It’s pretty cold in here to me, what about you Sam? Y/n?”

“Dean.” 

“I’m just saying, you gotta focus in, Cas. You’ve been acting real edgy for the last couple of weeks.”

“I’m fine,” Cas told him, trying not to drag the situation down the rabbit hole. “It’s probably just… allergies.” 

The boys and you shred a quick look with one another, knowing well enough that angels don’t have allergies. “Cassie?” You questioned leaning forward onto the table. “You don’t get allergies.”

Cas felt his face warm up, “That was just the first thing that came to mind.” He told you, his fingers fiddling with one another. “That’s what you all do.”

Dean smacked his lips, letting out a quick ok before continuing with his conversation. “As I was saying we need to go and search every place that these men where last seen at. And normally I would say go by ourselves to save them, but I’m not so sure what we are up against just yet. So Sam and I will head down to the bar the brother was last seen and Cas, you and Y/n can go and search the junkyard.”

Everyone agreed to Deans order, quickly finishing up their lunch before they need to head back out. Well almost everyone agreed. Cas sat there in his seat, pondering if he should pull Dean or Sam aside and ask if these feelings he is getting about you is bad or good. Because he does not want to harm others but at the same time he didn’t want to hurt you either. 

He wanted to beat his head against the table, the thoughts that raced through his mind aggravated him. But what could he do about it? Wait… you and him were going to the junkyard to search for clues of the missing family members, he himself could interrogate you there. But, how?

༺═────────────═༻

At the junkyard, you and Cas kept you voices low, barley speaking a word to one another as you inspected the place. Your flashlight shined about the place, scoping out any and all items that could appear useful for the case. 

“So, Sam said that the dad and son used to work here. Almost like a father-son business, you know?” You told him, shining the light in the angels direction, mindful not to blind him in the eye. 

He nodded, unable to stop the fluttery filling the further he walked with you. It was killing him, he wanted to ask you what you were doing, because he knew for a fact it was neither of the boys. But, at the same time he didn’t know how to bring it up. 

On one hand he could slowly bring up the topic, have a simple conversation before he would ask you. Though, on the other hand, he could just flat out ask you if you were trying to kill him. Because, that’s what it surely felt like. That you were killing him slowly and purposefully.

Cas came to a quick decision, he would hold a conversation with you then ask you. Simple as that, no harm no foul. 

“Cassie?” You asked, that soft voice of yours causing his chest to burn and his stomach to twist into knots. What the hell were you doing to him? “Are you alright-“

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You were shocked by his sudden question, his straightforward tone and seriousness catching you off guard completely. “… No?”

“It sure doesn’t seem that way.” He continued to accuse, folding his arms over his chest like he’d seen Dean do plenty of times before. “Would you care tell why you are trying to kill me?”

“But, I’m not?” You told him, voice uncertain and slightly laced with worthy. “Why would you think that?”

Cas glanced around the junkyard, almost as if the answer was somewhere written in the piles upon piles of junk. “My chest has been burning every time you come close to me, or how about when my stomach make me feel like my vessel is going to induce vomiting. When I know for a fact that I don’t eat anything to make it do so.”

You stood silently, letting the words sink deep into your skin. His chest burned? His stomach felt like he was going to throw up? Why the hell would he have thought that you were trying to kill him? It honestly just sounded like his vessel was sick, or maybe he—

You cut your thoughts short, and it suddenly clicked in your mind. A sly smile gracing your lips as you walked towards the angel. “Oh, Cassie~” You sang out, free hand coming to play with the sleeve of his trench coat. “Do you have a crush on me?”

Cas furrowed his brows, eyes dancing across your face as you came closer. “…No? At least I don’t think so.”

A chuckle left your lips, standing up on your tip toes you gave the angel a quick kiss on his check. Watching as a light blush crept upon his cheeks. “I like you too, Cassie.” You turned back to the junkyard, flashing your light at an empty bathtub and broken mattress, leaving the poor angel stuck in his spot. 

Cas lifted a hand to where you had kissed him, the ghost of your lips making his heart stutter in his chest. Damn you, he thought to himself. Damn you and these strange human emotions. 

What have I stumbled upon?!?! It fits them all so well 😂

NSFW Alphabet: Poly!Lost Boys + Michael Edition

A/N: Version including Star

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

• David is an inherently selfish person. He's used to sharing with the boys, but he still wants your attention. He won't admit this though, he'll just stare daggers at you until you cuddle up to him of your own free will. He'll rub his hand up and down your arm with a smug little smirk while he lights up a cigarette because he got his way.

• Dwayne is a very tactile person so he's the most likely to clean you up afterward (with what little they have in the cave) and cuddle up to your thighs and rest his head down there while you comb your fingers through his hair. He just really loves touching you. He's also the most emotionally intelligent one in the group, so he knows it's nice to be taken care of after.

• Michael is not as likely as Dwayne to clean you up. Occasionally, though, he will feel inclined to lick wipe cum off of you, especially if it's his or Dwayne's. Other than that, he'll cuddle up to the side of you that David isn't occupying and shoot the shit with Marko. Most likely to fall asleep out of all the boys.

• As much as Paul loves you and loves being close to you, he's lighting up a joint after. He's just filled with so much energy after sex, he'll probably blast some music on the speakers they stole bought and jump around the room. Will probably go hunting.

• When Marko isn't flirting with chatting up Michael, he's being a general nuisance. Poking and prodding at places he knows you're ticklish at, pressing on hickies and bruises he left behind to see you jump, and nipping at any of your exposed skin. It's his way of subtly checking on you, making sure they weren't too rough with you. He figures if you can yell at him, then you can't be too hurt. Undoubtedly will be roped into going hunting with Paul.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

• David likes his brain. Cliche? Maybe, but it's true. His intellect, mixed with his intimidating, yet, seductive, blue eyes, got him whatever he wanted when he was human, and it goes double for his undead life.

Loves your neck. He loves how your pulse jumps under his hand when he squeezes it, he loves how soft it feels under his lips when he marks you up, and he particularly loves to feed from there.

• Dwayne likes his chest and stomach, but mostly because of how much you like them. Believe it or not, he does in fact own shirts, but with abs like his, why would he bother wearing one?

He wants to say he loves all of you equally, but he knows that a glimpse of your thighs at any time will give him a semi. Favorite spot to feed from you.

• Michael is partial to his arms and back. He'd die if anyone said this about him, but Michael is a total gym rat. He likes knowing even without the vampire strength, he'd be able to carry you around with no problem. He'll try to subtly flex in front of you in his little cropped muscle shirts, so please tell him how strong you think he is.

He's definitely the most sentimental of the boys, since he's still half-human, and he's always wanted that teenage relationship you see in movies. As such, he loves your hands. They're smaller than his and they feel like they fit perfectly together. He loves to hold them in public, he loves to play with them when you're sitting next to him/on his lap, and he loves how they look wrapped around his dick.

• Paul loves his hair. Though it technically isn't a body part, he puts so much effort into taking care of it that it's practically an extension of himself. He really loves when you pull on it.

Boob man, boob man! We got ourselves a boob man, people! Big or small. He's looking at them, he's grabbing them, and he's most definitely sucking on them. If and when his clingy ass cuddles up to you, his head is homing in on them like a missile.

• Marko likes his hands. They're long and dexterous. He actually sewed each of those patches onto his jacket and if you just so happen to find a random patch sewed into your clothing, you know who to blame. His hands are also skilled at other things that involve far less clothing.

He loves your ass! He keeps his hands in your back pocket when you're out in public and loves to see you jump when he squeezes your ass through your jeans. In fact, whenever you wear a skirt, he does everything in his power to get you to bend over and whenever he gets a peek, he thinks maybe there is a God.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

• David is cumming in your mouth or on you. If he's in a good mood, he might ask you where you want it. It's more than likely going on your face though.

• Dwayne always prefers cumming deep inside you because it feels intimate, he's real soft like that. And even though he knows he can't get you pregnant, it doesn't mean he can't try. Also, it's less of a clean-up.

• Michael can't cum inside you since you're both technically human. He doesn't really have a preference, so it's really up to you.

• Paul is gross. He loves making a mess, so cumming on you is his second favorite part of having sex with you. 9 times out of 10 will be aiming for your tits.

• Marko likes to cum on your ass or back because he's a feral animal. He'll wipe it off, at least. Probably with your clothes.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• David plans on turning you eventually. He's allowing you to enjoy your humanity for now and giving you the illusion of choice. But just know, somewhere over the horizon, the change is coming. You somehow got him to care about you, and he's not letting you get away anytime soon. The other guys know (other than Michael) and maybe they'll feel a little guilty for deceiving you, but they're still just as selfishly sadistic as David. You might hate them for it, but they'll have the rest of eternity to make it up to you.

• Dwayne is into seeing you choke on him, more so than David even. It's not even an ego thing, he just loves your reaction and how hard you're trying to please him. No joke, the freakiest one in the group.

• Michael so desperately wants you to ride his face, but he doesn't know how to broach the topic and he doesn't want to just ask you. His pride won't let him. Needless to say, he's very jealous of how confident the other guys are.

• Paul really, really, really wants to drink your blood when your high to see if he'll get high from it. Not a dirty secret, but an odd one nonetheless.

• Marko has stolen multiple pairs of your panties. How he managed to get them is a secret to everyone but him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

• Hmm...it depends on what you count as experience. Though he's a total pretty boy, Michael, at most, has experience kissing and heavy petting. He's made out with people before, but he was always too awkward to seal the deal.

• The other boys came from time periods where casual sex was frowned upon. Less so for men, but still frowned upon. I can see Paul and Marko sleeping with their prey before eating them, but David and Dwayne don't like to play with their food. So the two of them don't have much experience, but David has enough confidence in what he's doing that he seems like a natural and Dwayne is very intuitive and can read your body.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

• David likes when you ride him. He'll sit back, maybe smoke a cigarette, while you work for him. But don't be mistaken, he's still in control. He also likes making you grind on his thigh while he sits back and watches. Something about seeing you so needy for him that you'll hump his leg like a dog, makes him feel powerful.

• Dwayne loves any position where he's close to you and can kiss you, missionary in particular. He can leave marks all over you and you him, he can see all the expressions he brings out of you, and he especially loves how your thighs feel wrapped around his waist.

• Michael likes when you ride him for the complete opposite reason as David. He acts all nonchalant when he asks you, but it's really because he likes being under you. He's in the perfect position to grab your hips and help you ride him, but if you just so happen to slap him around, well, who is he to stop you?

• Paul, like most teenage boys, wants to impress his girlfriend (who just so happens to be you). What better way to impress you than to take you flying! Knowing Paul and his libido, this leads to sky sex baby! Something about the adrenaline of doing something dangerous and possibly being spotted is addicting for you both. Let's just hope he doesn't get too distracted. Falling from that height is definitely gonna ruin the mood.

• Marko's favorite is doggy, surprise surprise. He'll absolutely try to talk you into anal. Whether you do or not is a different story. He's also partial to you sitting on his lap, your back to his chest.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

• David will only laugh during sex if he's laughing at you. If somebody embarrassed themselves in some way, it is guaranteed to get a condescending chuckle out of him.

• Dwayne isn't really a goofy person in general and he takes your pleasure very seriously. At most, you'll get a smirk or a smile out of him.

• Michael definitely isn't going out of his way to make you laugh while he's 7 and a half inches deep in you, but he's not opposed to laughing if something funny happens.

• Paul is the one everyone is laughing at. Very likely to say something while he's dirty talking that'll make you pause before bursting into laughter. Especially if he's high.

• Marko is very giggly in any given situation, and he makes a habit of never taking himself or others too seriously.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

• David has never touched a razor in his life. It's the 80s baby, the bush is in fashion! Not that he cares; he just doesn't care enough to shave. He is, as we all know, a bottle blond, but he isn't manic enough to dye his pubic hair. Vampire or not, there are just some lines he will not cross. He will, however, have you help dye his happy trail from brown to bleach blond. It's your favorite day of the month because he walks around shirtless after with his jeans slung very, very low to let the dye set.

• Speaking of happy trails, Dwayne's is on full display considering his total lack of a shirt and it. Is. Perfect. It's a perfect smattering of dark hair leading from his navel to his crotch that makes you want to follow it with your tongue. Could be convinced to trim his pubic hair if you complain enough, but he isn't gonna like it.

• Michael has a bush because he does care that it's in fashion. He's still susceptible to the latest fads and the world is still riding that "all-natural" wave from the 70s. His pubic hair is a little darker than the hair on the rest of his body and it's just as curled as the hair on his head. Can be peer pressured into shaving it.

• Paul doesn't grow much hair to begin with, which is surprising considering how long and thick the hair on his head is. Unlike David, Paul is a natural blond and what little pubic hair he has lays flat. He'll shave it into shapes occasionally, but it itches every time it grows back.

• Marko's hair is thick and coily. Not curly, coily. It's dark blond, not that you ever see it since he prefers to have it shaved. One time, Paul convinced him to let him wax him; never again.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

• David is not romantic in the traditional sense, but you'll never doubt how he feels about you. He's not gonna worship you and kiss the ground you walk on, he's not Michael for God's sake, but there's a certain possessive quality to the sex you have.

• Intimacy is Dwayne's forte. But don't assume that means he's a prude, far from it. Sure, he'll take his time to kiss you from head to toe before he even takes his pants off, but he'll also finger you on the Ferris wheel. The duality of man.

• Michael...hmm. Michael has an odd balance with intimacy. On one hand, he really does want to make your time together romantic and affectionate, on the other, he just gets so caught up and drunk in you that he can never wait long before he dives in.

• Paul wouldn't know intimacy if it grabbed him by the dick. He still loves you, of course, and the sex is great, but that's not his MO. He's kind of blind to romance.

• Marko is surprisingly intimate. Sometimes, he'll stay behind in the cave while the others go hunting so you and him can have some alone time.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

• Of course, Michael has done it before. He's a boy teeming with hormones. But once you started dating, it sort of became obsolete. Sure, if the mood strikes and you're nowhere in sight, he'll do what must be done, but he definitely doesn't prefer it.

• I can't imagine the other boys masturbating. Like, legitimately. If they get horny, they'll just have sex. Easy.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

• They're all voyeurs. They'd have to be in a relationship with this many people. But David likes watching the most. He likes to sit back in his chair with a cigarette and watch you all together before he joins in. He's technically the leader so it's like you're all putting on a show for him. Choking? Definitely choking and he does it in public too. He'll grab your neck and use his forefinger to turn your chin towards him to kiss you. Feeling your walls clench around him as he tightens his grip is heaven-sent.

• Dwayne has a thing for your smell. Not like your perfume or anything, but your natural musk. He buries his nose in your hair when he hugs you. He even prefers it if you don't shave your pubic hair. Of course, he's not gonna tell you that. But the way he ruts his hips into the bed when his nose is buried in your pussy, definitely hints at it. Somnophilia on a lesser level. There's something about how much you trust him that gets him going.

• Michael has a mommy kink? More likely than you think. He'll probably only call you that during the daytime when the other guys are asleep. It happened for the first time while you were riding him and you wrapped your hand around his throat. Maybe you were trying to stop him from moaning so loud in your house full of people or maybe it was just unconscious on your part, either way, he couldn't stop it from slipping out. Please don't tell the guys.

• Paul likes roleplay to an extent. Think less doctor and patient and more rockstar and his groupie. It'll be very giggly and very unserious, but you'll both have fun. Surprisingly, paul thinks it's hot when you cry. Unsurprisingly, he also thinks it's hot when you're angry.

• Marko is an exhibitionist. Keeping it within the group is one thing, but Marco likes to push it to another level. I'm talking about places where you two will definitely get caught. You'd be surprised how often someone might walk upon you two and get off on peeping on you. Rest assured they're Marko's next meal. And when all of you are on the boardwalk, he'll take your hand in his and drag you off with a pep in his step to desecrate another fair ride. You two have done horrible things in the Tunnel of Love.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

• Oh, anywhere and everywhere, baby! If there's a will, there's a way and there's definitely a will. In the cave, on the beach, in a booth at a diner they're definitely getting banned from, etc. The list goes on! Hell, they'd do it on the boardwalk if it didn't mean a permanent ban.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• It would be easier just to name what doesn't turn them on. Like, clowns. Clowns don't turn them on.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• As a general rule of thumb for all of them, no to anything that'll leave you in more pain than pleasure. No ageplay either.

• David is against any degrading that insults his intelligence. Calling him a slut or a whore is one thing, calling him stupid is another. He won't drink from you during sex because he knows how easy it is to get carried away when pleasure is involved. It'll be a pain if he killed you too soon.

• Dwayne is not a big fan of any of the nasty bodily fluids. He may be a sex fiend, but he's not an animal. He's also wholeheartedly against degrading. He's more of a soft dom/service top, and he called you a slut once or something equally as demeaning, but his heart wasn't in it. He doesn't want to unintentionally make you insecure about anything.

• Michael isn't into angry sex. It's very rare when you're mad at him, even rarer for him to be mad at you. If you're both mad at each other, it's over something serious and sex would be the last thing on his mind. He's all for makeup sex though.

• Paul's not super into power roles during sex. Nobody in charge, nobody calling the shots, just vibes.

• Marko wouldn't call you mommy or any title. He doesn't want you calling him anything along those lines either. He just can't take it seriously. Calling him Daddy is a quick ticket to getting laughed at.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• David prefers receiving. The asshole he is sees blowjobs as a treat for you. It's not something you're doing for him, but something he's allowing you to do. He'll sit back in his weird little wheelchair thrown as you kneel in front of him and he expects a 'please' and 'thank you'. Not opposed to giving as long as you beg for it.

• If Dwayne had to pick a place to die for the second time, it would be between your thighs. If you offer it, he won't turn it down. He loves seeing you between his thighs after all, but there's something about feeling your soft thighs twitching and squeezing the sides of his head. He's obsessed with the way you sound when he has his mouth on you, the way you smell, and the way you shake. It's almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

• Michael gives as much as he gets. Whenever you go down on him, he has to return the favor. He's literally singing your praises when you go down on him, but he really, really wishes you would sit on his face. The idea of you grinding on his tongue and using him for your pleasure makes his hands sweat and his knees weak.

• Paul will give you the sloppiest head. He'd have smoked something beforehand, where he gets the weed is one of the 8th wonders of the world. Pushing your legs over his shoulders, gripping handfuls of your thighs, moaning into you. Literally just pussy drunk. Dear God, pull his hair and lead him where you want him. Legitimately could cum in his pants. Moans like a whore when you give him head.

• Marko much prefers skipping to the main course. He's not opposed to giving or receiving, but those are just appetizers. If he wanted to get his dick wet, he'd much rather do it inside of your pussy. He also has the overwhelming urge to talk, which kind of takes away from him going down on you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

• None of them have a set pace. It depends on the mood you caught them in and where you are.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• With this many insatiable partners, quickies are a staple of your relationship and they happen often. They're typically initiated by Paul and Marko, but the others aren't above pulling you into a semi-secluded alleyway either.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

• Do the guys who hung from the bottom of a train track as a train rode by above them while they hooted and hollered (sans Michael, who was scared shitless) take risks?

• In all seriousness, they're all down to experiment. You don't become a vampire by sticking to the same old shit. They'll try anything you want as long as it doesn't put you in immediate danger (it's best not to tell them about Paul's favorite past time in the sky). Remember: safe, sane, and consensual. While safety and sanity are relative among them, consent is not. Consent is a 6 way street for you guys. So if you're game, they are too.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

• They can go for however many rounds you're up for. Individually, I'd say keep going until your legs go numb. But with all of them at the same time, keep it at a 2 round maximum. You're only human after all. For now.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• Nope. Maybe there's a sex shop somewhere in California, but with this many partners, none of you need any.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

• We don't even need to talk about David.  You know and I know that he's a total tease. In fact, the only reason his photo isn't in the dictionary next to the word tease is because vampires don't show up in pictures. His teasing is mostly private.

• Dwayne is an intentional tease and an accidental tease. He'll take his time with the foreplay, nipping at your bare skin before kissing the rest of your body, but he won't touch you where you want him to unless you ask him. He'll say, "Speak up. I can't hear you if you're mumbling." Knowing damn well he heard you with his advanced hearing. But sometimes he'll hold your hips still against his while you sit on his lap in public, or trail his hands over your bare thighs without any sexual thoughts behind his actions.

• Michael is under no illusions that he's a tease. He won't even attempt it because he knows it'll be turned on him. In fact, YOU tease him. All you have to do is grab his chin and pull him into a kiss and he's following you around the boardwalk like a puppy. Hugging you from behind and pressing his hard-on into your back.

• Paul likes to think he's a tease, and it's really adorable that he tries. He'll start off real strong but he's easily swayed by your pleas and his own overwhelming need, and soon enough he'll end up begging you.

• Marko, like David, is a big tease, but, like, in the most literal sense. Poking and prodding at you, pulling you into a hug from behind before biting at your neck, pinching your ass to make you jump, etc etc. Just real gremlin shit. He's the schoolboy and you're his crush, get ready to have your pigtails tugged. Doesn't matter if you're in private or in public, he's an equal opportunity tease, baby!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• David is mostly quiet. Mostly because he's so focused on the sounds you make and the best way to get more out of you. But partially because he thinks being silent during sex fits his image. He'll occasionally let out a grunt or a curse.

• Dwayne is louder than expected. He isn't screaming, sadly, but his moans are deep and unrestrained. He knows how much you like to hear him, so he won't hold himself back.

• At the beginning of your giant relationship, Michael still holds onto that toxic idea that moaning makes him less masculine. But Dwayne isn't afraid to moan and he's the most manliest man Michael knows. So he drops that trait pretty fast. Is very loud and will get you caught in public.

• When Paul moans, they're very soft, pretty things—just like the rest of him. A lot of "Fuck, babe." And "Just like that."

• Marko is more of a huffer. He'll show his pleasure through panting with a few scattered moans thrown in. Don't be surprised if he giggles every now and then.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

• Contrary to popular belief, David is willing to let you take control; if you think you can handle him, that is. The biggest brat. You'll really have to tighten the metaphorical leash on him. He expects you to slap him around, choke him a little,  scratch him up. If you aren't rough with him, you're getting absolutely no respect and he will make fun of you. What's the point of letting you be in charge if you're too afraid to. Take. Charge.

• Dwayne wishes he could marry you. He's not exactly a traditionalist, but seeing how much love you give him and the boys every day, and how much they love you in turn, can make a man sentimental. And you know what they say: every girl dreams of her wedding day, and every boy dreams of his wedding night. In this case, Dwayne dreams of both.

• Michael is very grateful that he can bring you home to meet his mom. She's been nagging him about not having a girlfriend for years (little does she know there are also 4 boyfriends). And you guys get along, which is a huge plus!

• When his scruff starts leaning towards a beard, Paul lets you shave it for him. Since he can't exactly see himself in the mirror, you're a pretty good solution. And it's not like any cuts you leave behind will last long.

• Marko is convinced you have a favorite among them, no matter how much you insist you don't. He'll do little competitions and ask you who kisses the best and who's the funniest and who makes you cum the hardest. He's honestly fine with not being the favorite. As long as he isn't your least favorite.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• Dwayne is the biggest (a surprise to no one) at a whopping 8 and a half inches. He's thick too; all in all, pretty proportional. Definitely something to write home about.

• David is close behind with a nice 8 inches. The tip flushes a soft red, becoming darker the longer he's hard.

• Michael is just about 7 and a half inches. A little left-leaning, with a thin vein along the bottom.

• Paul and Marko are both between 6.5 and 7 inches, but Marko is a little thicker. The only word that comes to mind for Paul is pretty, just like the rest of him.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• They're all eighteen and nineteen-year-old vampires (and half vampires), you do the math. Your own libido skyrockets to keep up with theirs.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

• If it's at night, then Michael could be persuaded to take a nap with you afterward. But the rest, not at all. Remember: they're vampires. If it's closer to sunrise, then they're all likely just to sleep with you.

Hi Hershey!!! Firstly, I just wanted to say that your ao3 ETC fic is amazing!!! It’s in my tabs and I refresh it every few hours or so lolol

I was wondering if you could write abt how the boys from etc would deal with a hopeless romantic! reader? Like, the reader watches a ton of rom-coms, reads romance books, and laments abt how they can’t find a bf (when the boys are literally right in front of them)

Take all the time you need to write this!! <3 I hope you have a good day!! :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!♥️♥️♥️♥️ Awww I love this request! Thank you so much for requesting!!!💋

Where do I even begin?

The boys would be frustrated to say the least because you’re over here watching countless of rom-coms, reading romantic books, and are constantly talking about how you don’t have a boyfriend. You also spout on about how every person your age has a boyfriend while you don’t!

The issue is how you act blind. Cause there are CLEARLY four boys who’d love to fill that void in your heart and you’re taking a blind eye to it. let’s be for real, when was the last time any of these gross teens got close to a relationship without it falling and burning? If anything, they’d love to become your boyfriend!

If you open your fucking eyes, that is.

Bill is the one who’s going to be frustrated and pissed off because he has a superior complex and an ego that is up where heaven is. He’s going to be so butt hurt over it that it genuinely makes him want to pull his hair out. He’s tried everything in the book that is out of character for him; he opened doors for you, held out chairs for you, gave somewhat little care to your feelings, and just trying to be a LITTLE bit better. However, none of those efforts are working well much to his disdain.

Josh, he gets upset when his attempts at “wooing” you don’t go as planned. He rambles on about his interests and you looked and acted very interested in them. He would show off his many collections or any doubles he has to you in hopes that it’ll get you closer to him and soon be wrapped around his finger! He wasn’t pissed off like how Bill is—but he still was hurt! You two share some of the same interests so he thought that you’d be happy to know that if you two ever became a thing, you’d have a boyfriend who enjoys the same things as you! That’s always good right?

Pete is a little cornball so he’d know some of the ropes on how to win a person over or two! He would compliment you daily, makes some jokes to make you laugh, try to take you places, and he even stole some of his parents money to buy you something you like. Pete loves seeing you smile all big when he does these things and it gives him a big ego boost! But it still makes him confused and pretty frustrated when he still doesn’t have you where he needs you! Your still going on about you not having a boyfriend after he literally took you out to eat at Mcdonald’s!

Jerry is the sanest out of all of them. He doesnt want to overwhelm you with gifts, be overly sweet, or talk to much about himself in fear that he might drive you away. Jerry is hesitant but he still interacts with you, making sure not to go overboard. He thinks you’re pretty/handsome, smart, and you seem to be the person he actual sees himself having a chance with considering the circumstances. He can get kinda angsty here and there because he’s worried that maybe he’s not the one that you want and that’s why you haven’t made any moves yet…

And god help us all if they find out that they ALL have a thing for you! They will go fertile and lash out at each other, trying to one up the other, constantly arguing about who’s going to hang out with you, etc. You on the other hand are so oblivious to the chaotic mess as you let out a long dramatic sigh, saying how you’ll never find yourself with a boyfriend who loves you…💔

Bill thought about getting you glasses so that you can see that the love of your life is him and not the others

Bucky Barnes incorrect quotes P.1

————————————————— Bucky: Y/n... 

Y/n: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.  —————————————————

Y/n: Why did you guys dress up as each other for Halloween?  Sam: Bucky is the scariest thing I could think of! 

Bucky: Sam told me I should pick the dumbest costume possible

————————————————— John: Do you guys hear something?  Y/n: I hear the sound of you shutting the fuck up.

Bucky & Sam: Burn

—————————————————While the Avengers is in a battle* 

Bucky, trying to warn about the location of an enemy: To the left! 

Y/n: Take it back now y'all! 

————————————————— Sam: *cooking* 

Y/n: *kicks down door* 

Y/n: *grabs knife from Sam's hand* 

Y/n: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR? 

Sam: 

Sam: What. 

Bucky: They're trying to tell you they want to cook.

————————————————— Y/n: I think it’s time I get my life in order. 

Bucky, narrating: But they did not get their life in order. In fact, they got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

Rocket in the background: And I won.

Y/n: you fucking liar.

—————————————————

Bucky, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume?  Y/n: *grabs and chugs the entire bottle* 

Y/n: 

Y/n: It's perfume

—————————————————

Y/n: If I didn't know better, Bucky, I'd say you were scared.  Bucky: Heh, scared? 

*absolute silence* 

Bucky: DID YOU HEAR THAT?!  —————————————————

John: Can you be quiet?! I'm trying to think. 

Bucky: Don't worry. Doing anything for the first time is difficult —————————————————

Sam: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon? 

Bucky: We're chopsticks!  Sam: Well... that's cute! 

Sam: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?  Y/n: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

————————————————— Bucky: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. 

Y/n: You and me! 

Bucky: *tearing up* Ok.

🤔STRANGER THINGS THEORIES🤔

Possible new character?

I believe that in season five we are gonna get a new and very powerful character much like 001, Peter, or Vecna. So let’s jump in.

Alright picture this El just got her powers back with the help of Dr. Brenner and Dr. Owens, but like they said her powers are back stronger and WAY more powerful than before. So Dr. Owens is already prepared with someone that was as equally as powerful, someone that we have seen only a few time and is presumed dead. Sarah hopper.

Now I did my research and found out that Sarah is the same age as the OG party (Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike). So there was already many theories of how Sarah being alive and some actual evidence so I am just playing around on the idea.

So any way before Dr. Owens was captured by the government he sent out a signal to where Sarah was being kept. And for a reason that they still can’t figure she survived 001’s attack at the lab, something that isolated herself from the other kids.

So Sarah was sent to Hawkins knowing that Elven would end up back there to help her friends, and Sarah was sent to help tame El’s stronger abilities, so just imagine what all of there surprises would be like when they find out who she is

Know I believe that Sarah would have no memory of before she was taken by Dr. Brenner so she wouldn’t know about her dad and her dad wouldn’t know about her. But slowly she starts to remember events of her life before she started to get “cancer”.

Plus I believe that the Cancer was just Sarah slowly starting to gain her powers, and when she was doing that thing where she stood there and panicked I think she was seeing the upside down. So all this could prove that Sarah isn’t dead and that she could come back in season five.

Anyways these are just theories let me know what you think and

!NO NEGATIVE THOUGHTS!

MC: Bro-

Sylus: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Sylus: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Found this quote and it suits this one SOOOO BAD.