#del lobos

You're in your early twenties and arguably second in command within your father's gang. Colms other right-hand man, Tom, considered himself to be next in line since he had known Colm since before you were born. Yours and Toms' relationship was... heated. Colm knew the two of you didn't get along, yet would snap at the two of you to 'put your fucking differences aside' whenever he needed you to work together. Colm would usually have to pick one of you to take charge, taking it in turns. Fairs fair, I guess.

Here you are, returning from a failed mission. Colm had asked the two of you and some other disposable men to track down the Del Lobos hideout and clear it, seeing as your hideouts were far too close together. You approach your gangs current hideout, a camp just southwest of Lake Isabella. Yes, it was fucking freezing up here, but Colm ran up here to escape the Pinkertons on his tail. Sadly, his gang wasn't the only one with that idea, but it seemed to work. No one had found you all, yet.

You dismount your horse just as they're riding into the stable, leading them into a pen and hitching them. Tom follows behind, hitching his in a pen beside you.

"You better clean this nag good, boy," Tom shouts over to the stableboy, currently cleaning another horse.

"I will, Sir," he responds.

You don't know his name, he's only been with the gang for a few months. He seems like a bundle of nerves, constantly shaking and flinching around everyone. The men loved to pick on him, they loved watching his tail shake in between his legs as they torment him. You'd seen him get hit over the pettiest of things; their saddles not being clean enough, the horses having a tiny knot in their manes, a nail on their hooves being a centimeter out of place.

You remembered the only time one of the men tried to hit you. You were in your mid-teens, starting to find your role within the gang. One member had challenged your authority, claiming you were just a child and that 'Colms daughter should get no special treatment.' He had gone to hit you over some petty thing you barely remembered, but you did remember the look in his eyes when you gripped hold of his hand just as he tried to swing for you. His wrist felt like it was going to break as you'd tightened your grip. To everyones surprise, you kicked the back of his knee, causing him to fall to the ground. You then let go of his wrist, shoving him forward so he lay flat on his front. Without thinking, you stomped hard, feeling the crack of his bone as you snapped his arm like a twig. It all happened within a matter of seconds. You weren't thinking, enraged that not only was this man constantly picking on you, but had tried to put his hands upon you.

Colm had stormed out of his cabin after hearing the commotion. You were quick to explain what'd happened, the other men watching backing you up. Colm scoffed at the man crying on the ground, telling him to 'get out of my sight.' The guy quickly got up, gripping his broken arm, and ran as fast as he could. Your father seemed proud of you, putting his arm around your shoulder as he lead you into the cabin, fixing you a drink to 'celebrate.' The only other man to pick on you was Tom, though he mostly just said small petty comments behind Colms back. You'd called Tom out in front of your father many times but Colm never seemed fussed, probably not wanting to pick between the two of you.

"You fuck up like last time and I'll beat you till the snow turns red," Tom threatens him.

"Lay off, Tom," you order him. Tom snaps his head over to you.

"Oh oh oh! You soft for this pipsqueak?" Tom laughs, pointing at the stableboy who looks rather uncomfortable. He stays silent, watching the two of you bicker.

"I'm soft on no one. You just pick on anyone you view as lesser than yourself. You must have a lot of confidence issues, Tom," you smirk at him, heading out of the stables with him on your tail.

"I ain't the one with confidence issues here, girl. Just cause you got your whore mommas ugly looks don't mean you can take it out on me," Tom replies, following you over to Colms cabin.

"Why you usin' my insult against me? Can't think of your own?"

"I... what? No. I ain-" you cut him off.

"There there, it's alright, poor little Thomas," you taunt. That was a name that always made him turn red. You look over your shoulder to see that exact expression growing on his face.

"Now you better stop with al-"

"Tom. Shut up," Colm says as the two of you enter his cabin, Tom barking down your ear, not giving Colm a good impression.

Tom huffs but remains silent. Colm looks at the two of you for a moment, sat down at his table. The three of you remain silent until Colm snaps.

"Well? How'd it go? I'm gonna guess from the arguin' and silence that you fucked up," Colm half-shouts.

"Tom fucked up. Again." You state. Colm draws his gaze away from you, over to his right-hand man.

"Now hang on just a damn minute. There's a good fucking reason to why we fucked up."

"You, not we," you correct him.

"And that reason is...?" Colm's losing his patience.

"Well, we took out most of em, till THE Flaco fucking Hernández showed up. Killed all those men we took with us. We bolted just in time."

Colm can't be angry at either of you for this. Flaco was one of the world's most famous gunslingers, the 'Terror of the Grizzlies.' Just about anybody would lose a fight against him, including Colm himself. Colm sighs, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"You're sure it was him?" Colm asks, looking down at the table.

"Not unless you know any other giant Mexican outlaws, yes," you sarcastically respond.

"Great. The two of you, get outta my sight. I gotta think about how to deal with this."

Both of you turn and leave, no one saying a word as you exit the cabin. Tom sulks off, probably going to join his little gang of friends. You make your way over to the stew pot, grabbing yourself a bowl of whatever was on the menu today. You're quick to eat, wanting to check on your horse after today's shootout. You heard them whine during the fight but didn't see anything as you were checking on your ride back.

You find your way over to the stables, looking around for the sun to figure out what time it is. She's getting ready to set, her rays peeking out from behind the many mountains that surround your camp. You enter the stable, stomping the snow off your boots as you shut the door behind you. The stableboys not here for once, which is fine as you weren't in the mood to make awkward conversation.

You approach your mount, feeding them a few pocketed treats as you begin to check for any signs of pains or discomfort. You're quick to notice a bandage on their lower leg, your heart dropping as you begin panicking. You kneel down, peeking under the bandage to see how bad the wound was. The stable doors quickly open and shut, the stableboy returning. He huffs into his gloves, trying to blow hot air onto his face to warm his reddened cheeks up. The two of you notice each other at the same time, looking over your shoulder to watch him stand in his tracks, eyes wide. He looks like you've just caught him doing something he shouldn't have. The two of you are awkwardly silent, both staring at each other.

"Hello," you say. You really had no idea what else to say to break the tension.

"Evening, Miss," he responds, calming himself down as he makes his way over to his own horse.

"You taken care of my horse?" you ask him. He looks a little puzzled till he realizes you're on about their wound.

"Oh. Yes, Miss. It ain't nothin' to worry about, just a little scratch but I didn't want nothin' rubbin' against it," he informs you.

"Thank you," you say as you stand up. "Are they okay to ride?"

"I mean, you could, but they ain't gonna be too happy about it," he responds, feeding his own horse a few pocketed treats.

"You ain't gotta answer me like I'm one of them boys. I wanna know the brutal truth, I ain't gonna snap at you for bein' honest and doin' what's right," you inform him. You have a gut feeling that you shouldn't ride, but you want to hear it from the horse master himself.

"Oh.. I err... Well, no. You should let 'em rest a little while. If you take em out in that snow it could get infected," he tells you.

"The honest truth. I love it. Thank you, Mister...?" you trail off, wanting to know his name. You make your way over to him, leaning back against one of the pen fences, watching him fuss his horse.

"Oh, no, I'm just Kieran. I ain't no 'Mister' somethin'," Kieran looks away, looking defeated.

"Yes, you are. You're a man, ain'tcha?" You ask him.

"The last time I checked, I was, yeah," Kieran jokes. You let out a laugh. This stableboy was funny.

"Well then, Kieran, who are ya?"

"Duffy," he responds.

"Kieran Duffy, that's a real cute name," you tell him. "I'd introduce myself but everybody knows who I am," you shrug.

Is he... blushing? Or still flustered from the sudden change of temperature? A wicked part of you is eager to find out how red he can really go, in a flustered sense, not a bloody one.

"Thank you," Kieran sheepishly replies, stuttering a little. "Yeah, I know you is Colms daughter." Kieran seems nervous as he tells you that, which isn't a surprise. You'd had many people cower once they find out whose daughter you are. Sometimes you enjoy it, liking the little power trip you get, but other times you wished you were just some normal girl that lived a normal life.

"Yeah," you laugh. "Don't remind me."

"Oh... Well, I'm sorry, Miss. I don't wanna tread on no ones toes," Kieran replies. He watches you as you climb up and sit on the pen's fence, your legs resting on the wooden plank below, keeping you in place.

"It's alright, darlin'. You ain't doin' anything wrong," you turn to see him going red again. Darlin'? Something tells you this man doesn't get much attention, especially from women.

"Well er... that's good to hear," Kieran lightly laughs. He looks away, pulling out a brush so he can clean his already overly-groomed horse. You watch him, noticing how his eyes flick over to look at you every now and again, face going redder as he meets your gaze every time.

"You're real good at carin' for these horses, you know that?" you ask him, breaking the silence.

"Oh, thank you, Miss," Kieran replies.

"Do my fathers men not compliment you on your work?"

"I'm sorry to sound so blunt, but all your fathers men do is use me as their punchin' bag." Kieran has sadness in his eyes, trying not to look at you.

"Which ones?" you sternly ask, taking Kieran back.

"W-what?"

"Which ones do that to you?"

"I... I don't know many names here, Miss. But you seen it earlier, that Tom fella is one of the main ones. Most of 'em do it. Usually one will start and the others will join in, bit of a gang thing, you know?" Kieran sheepishly replies. He's internally screaming, worried he's just chucked himself under the bus. He can see rage on your face, yet he's not sure if you're going to snap at him for being a tattletale, or snap at them.

"The next time they do that, you come tell me, alright?"

"Yes, Miss," Kieran says under his breath, giving his head a little nod.

"I'm serious. You work harder than most of those idiots, especially Tom. He's a real fuckin' clown."

"Thank you, Miss. I really appreciate it," Kieran sincerely replies, giving you a little smile.

"I'd tell you to keep up the good work but I know you will," you say as you shuffle off the fence, slowly making your way out. "I'll see you later, sweetheart," you say as you exit.

Kierans glad you've left, only because his face is redder than a tomato. Kieran hears you trudge away through the snow and once he's certain you're gone, he turns to Branwen.

"Sweetheart?! You hear that, Branwen?" Kieran asks under his breath, trying to keep his voice down. He talks to Branwen all the time, but only in private. God forbid anyone ever heard, they'd probably hang him for being so 'weird.'

"She called me darlin' too, and cute. And she complimented my work... and she's got my back. What in gods name is goin' on?" Kieran asks, his face still flustered. He picks at his scarf, trying to let some air in to cool himself down.

"What the hell am I meant to do? That's Colms DAUGHTER, and there she is bein' sweet on me! This must be one big joke. I bet them fellas were listenin' in the whole time, gigglin' to themselves," Kieran huffs, trying to make this situation as negative as his mind will allow him.

Branwen gives Kieran a look. If horses could talk, he'd be saying 'don't be silly, this ain't a prank. That woman's clearly got eyes for you.'

"No way," Kieran responds. "There ain't no way a woman like that would go for a boy like me," Kieran folds his arms, leaning back against the fence. He thinks to himself, going over what just happened in his head. He's trying to pick away at it but everything you said seemed so sincere, so kind, so gentle.

Kieran slumps about the stable, lighting a few lanterns dotted about the place. He gets himself ready for bed, lying down on a pile of hay at the back of the stable. His arms are folded under his head, one ankle over the other. He's still thinking about you, trying to convince himself this is all a joke.

It can't be. It was far too kind.

Kieran puts his hands over his face and lets out a small scream, angry that he has no idea what to do. He's had a soft spot for you the second he laid eyes upon you, but quickly buried those thoughts as soon as he found out who you were. Colm will definitely chop his dick off and force him to eat it if he ever caught even just the tiniest hint that Kieran liked you.

Kieran decides to do what he does best, bury his feelings. He rolls onto his side, facing the wall. He tries to force himself to sleep but as soon as he shuts his eyes, all he can see if you.

Kieran then feels the worst thing that can happen to himself right now.

Kierans rock hard, solid.

His boner rubs against the inside of his jeans, urging him to at least get it out so it's not painful. Kieran sits upright, shuffling so his back is pressed against the stable walls. He undoes his jeans, letting his cock spring free and rest against his white shirt. He wants to touch himself, he really does, but he's telling himself off for getting this hard over such a small conversation. The guys so deprived, it's amazing how just a few kind words have made his heart flutter and his cock hard.

Kieran huffs, crossing his arms, frowning with his cock out, waiting for it to go down.

'I ain't... I ain't jackin' off to her. Again.' Kieran tells himself

There's no denying it. Kierans has gotten off to the thought of you many times, though he's not proud of it. He can't help it, you make him feel so dizzy every time he looks at you. He sits there a little while longer, trying to think of anything but you. He looks around the stable and the first thing his eyes come across is your mount, making him huff. How was he meant to not think of you?

'Fine.' He sighs, talking to himself in his head. 'You're pathetic, you know that? Gettin' off to some poor woman just cause she called you a few sweet names.'

Kieran pulls his gloves off, his warm hands wrapping around his cock. He starts slowly, trying to think of anything else to jack off to, but everything flicks back to you. He eventually gives up, allowing himself to really think about you.

'This is the last time you're doin' this,' he tells himself.

Once he's happy with his little self-discipline talk, he lets his mind wander. Kieran allows himself to get as dirty as he wants, but the first thing that comes to mind is how good your ass looks in that tight pair of jeans. Yes, he's checked you out many times, usually as you're mounting your horse. He's often wanted to pull you off your horse, bend you over the pen's fence, and fuck you there till your knees are weak.

Kieran picks up the pace, letting his eyes fall shut and mouth part slightly. He thinks about earlier, how he wishes you'd have called him over to stand in front of you whilst you were sat on the fence. He wishes you'd grabbed a hold of him by his O'Driscoll scarf and pulled him against you, letting your lips meet. He wishes you'd have wrapped your legs around his waist as you made out with him, uring him to grind against you. Kieran doesn't wish for much, but you're top on his list.

Kieran lets out a small whimper, quickly opening his eyes to ensure himself that yes, no one is around. He shuts them again, huffing and trying to remain silent as he continues, starting to feel himself get close. The only person he wants around is you, fuck the rest of the gang. He'd love for you to come in here and put your lips around his cock, he'd probably cum the second your lips touch him.

Kieran lets out a sharp gasp as he cums, quickly lifting his shirt so it doesn't ruin his already tatty clothes. He rests there for a moment, suddenly realizing how absolutely fucked he is. He's got the hots for you real bad, and he knows that if you decide to keep being sweet on him then Colm will find out sooner or later. Kieran reminds himself that it was probably just a one-time thing, or that you were just messing with him.