#unable to grow and change
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
incoherentbee · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
behold: the knight of doom and the mage of rage
Knight of Doom is one who exploits the sacrifice, death, punishment and pessimism on the session. Mage of Rage is one who knows belief, anger and strength and also knows trough conviction and negative emotions.
45 notes · View notes
emacrow · 3 months ago
Text
Hey, did you lose this?
A gargantuan looming form that was black as the night sky, coated in stars, cosmic dust, planets, and nebula. Extremely long snow white hair defying gravity floating above the ceiling spreading across like a growing cloud. Bright blue eyes like jewels staring down at tim
Tim could only stare dumbfounded with his sleep deprived eyes after searching for the right summoning in his backup backup bunker to find batman after escaping the arkham asylum.
In its right thin hand holding like a wet napkin was batman unconscious, coated in deep blue ice.
"I believe this belong to your dimension, at first, I thought it was a miniature cat at first when it tried a pathetic attempt at fleeing my children's toy box was when I noticed it was just another misplaced humans and they don't last long in the infinite realm much less my children's toybox. It took me a moment to figure out the right dimensions where it originated, but you thankfully made it easier for me to find with the summoning." The bring lightly drop Batman down to the ground as the deep frozen ice easily melted away.
"D-don't you need a payment?" Is what Tim spoke after his mind reset back from shock.
"Oh no~, visiting this dimension is a grand payment considering this where I can finally nib the bud of those pesky sewage ectoplasm that been a pain in my ankle for long enough. At best, you would be rewarded for giving me such a gift." The being lightly tapped Tim's head with its glowing index finger, ruffling the black hair lightly.
"Should you need me for any favor, Call upon me, the High King of the Infinite realm, Danny Phantom, Protector of the Dead and Alive, Center of the Eternal Vast Sp" The be- Danny did a light bow, as his towering being faded away, the summoning circle disappearing as well.
Leaving only Tim alone with a Bruce coughing a bit, taking a couple of heavy breaths of fresh air which snapped Tim out of his stupor.
"Bruce, Bruce, are you alright?" Tim rushed over and lightly shook Bruce's shoulder as Bruce's eyes opened slowly to see Tim, except there was something different about tim. His hair wasn't black but now a strikingly bright white with specks of stardust.
Fanart -> link
Part 2-> link
2K notes · View notes
seventeendeer · 1 year ago
Text
ppl are too quick to point to laios' disability as the reason his friends think he's a freak sometimes. so many instances of laios getting yelled at are, in my eyes, a case of "this guy had to emotionally mature very early in order to be there for his little sister" combined with "much older friends who never had to learn to manage their own emotions to the same degree"
a lot of the time he's right about needing to be more direct/deal with things in a way that may seem scary/needing to put your gut reaction aside. he tries not to make his friends uncomfortable and he puts up with a lot because he's trying to keep the peace, but he also pushes the others out of their comfort zones purposefully to try to get them to think more constructively. everyone else in the party is prone to acting on their gut instincts and avoiding uncomfortable situations even when facing them head-on is very much necessary. part of what makes laios such a great leader is the fact that he knows from experience how to put his own feelings aside to help someone else grow.
yes, he does make a lot of social blunders by accident and he does struggle to connect with others, but not all of his positive influence on others is accidental or "despite" making people uncomfortable. a lot of the time, I think it's clear he knows exactly what he's doing and he's trying to help the people around him process emotions in a healthy way as they all go through some truly harrowing shit. all the main characters support each other as well as they can with their unique emotional skillsets. laios' skillset just happens to be "gently talk child into eating her vegetables"
4K notes · View notes
Note
Oughhhhhh :,(
Those baby vamp scenarios are just so angsty with a hint of comedy.
Like, teen Venus vampire Stanley is living in his own world, separated from reality. Everything is like those teen drama shows with mystery, supernatural, and adventure (with the occasional traumatic event). MEANWHILE Ford is only experiencing The Horrors everyday. Even more so with this version of Stanley, having been dead at the same he was kicked out.
Stan's whole life is angsty with a hint of comedy really.
Teen vamp Stan is forever seventeenish and in total denial about it. They're stuck in Murder Woods for Reasons and Stan's doing funny little songs, getting wowed by crazy monsters and punching them in the face, finding cool bugs to show off and boasting about how he's not scared of a little forest! This is a cool haunted woods thing they got going on but he's not gonna get freaked by some guys in make up Ford! All the Horror that have happened to him over the years are buried under Teen ability to ultra suppress, like when shit gets real in high school but you still gotta go to class.
Meanwhile Fords hyperventilating about things jumping out and trying to eat Stan, his tiny itty bitty baby brother who keeps telling Ford to stop wearing heels (because obviously thats the only reason Fords taller! No other reason!) He just saw Stan go into a blood frenzy and the sight of his chubby cheeked twin who's been dead for ten years covered in blood and snarling seared itself into Fords brain and makes him choke up with the fact that Stan really isn't going to grow up.
Its like a mix up of Scooby Doo and Friday the Thirteenth here where Stan's laughing at the guy with a chainsaw and looking for clues and rolling his eyes while Fords desperately making sure Stan doesn't lose an arm and seeing all the dead bodies and carnage left in the killers wake. Ford wants so badly to shake Stan and yell about how awful everything is and how he can laugh about being dead, but then he see's his little twin brother trying to lick his nose with his tongue and be silly and he loses all his steam. Doesn't have the heart to shatter Stan's coping method of Not Seeing it and acting like life's totally normal even after being on the road for ten years and not really maturing in any way from it.
Then Fords holding him and crying into his hair about the tragedy of outliving his twin brother while Stan's screetching and growling about Ford being gross.
58 notes · View notes
declanisms · 1 year ago
Text
soldier shoko poet geto king gojo
14 notes · View notes
designernishiki · 2 years ago
Text
I wanna flesh out a yakuza oc but every time I think about it I end up thinking about an oc of mine who already Exists who’s not a yakuza oc. but is, in fact, an oc who is a yakuza. and that fact is genuinely completely unrelated
#he existed WAY before I started playing yakuza or knew really anything about it#actually he contributes to why I got into yakuza to begin with. cause when my friend first showed me y0 I was like ough… my character#grew up in this exact environment and culture and structure and etc (son of a patriarch)#so it was legitimately a good reference for his background and stuff#I kinda wanna talk about him/his background more on here but. like i said he’s. not technically a yakuza oc#and he can’t be because he. canonically. has PLAYED yakuza. like the games EXIST cause it’s just a normal real world type universe and#I won’t get into all this much but he ends up in the states on the dl for Reasons. accidentally ends up with a son when he’s 22 (son’s#mother being significantly younger but again we’re not gonna get into THAT mess). ends up seeing the first game being sold somewhere in nyc#and is unable to restrain his curiosity about it (as an Actual Yakuza) so he ends up getting his son a ps2 for his birthday partly just#as an excuse to buy and play yakuza 1 because he NEEDS to know what’s in it#something something it ends up being a weird bonding thing with his son who’s definitely too young to be watching this game being played#(he was born the same year as haruka so he’d be like. 8-9. also already a concerningly violent child with many issues but. anyway)#something something he ends up disappearing out of the blue from the states when his son is 12 but the pastime still sticks for said son#from then on. so uh. yeah weirdly significant that these games Exist in this story/universe bdsjhfdfjnd#idk why I’m avoiding saying his name. his name’s asura. he’s a year or two older than daigo (born 1974) and his family’s supposed to be a#pretty powerful one in the tokyo area and he was supposed to be a nepo baby sorta like daigo except he’s not Technically an only child- he#has a much younger sister. but obviously she wasn’t gonna be considered for taking over their father’s seat nor would she want to#she wants absolutely nothing to do with any of it and changes her last name pretty soon after moving to the US to get away from them#no beef with her brother or anything she was just treated absolutely horribly and disgustingly by older members of their family growing up#ANYWAY I should stop talking bdshshcbsnnf I didn’t mean to infodump all this the lore is just. deep with these guys#Asura wasn’t even made to be a particularly prominent character or anything it’s his SON who’s a Bonafide Main Character and asura’s ties in#the story are mostly related to Him. (though his sister is also a pretty prominent character so there’s connection there too)#rambling#also one more note. yes. the timing and location of where asura would’ve first bought yakuza 1 means that it would most likely be the#infamous original english dub version. which is hilarious to think about#especially because his son’s mom (I keep calling her that because they weren’t really in a Relationship they just co-parented and lived#together a little less than half the time. it’s complicated) Did Not Approve of a game that Adult around their kid. so she would not be fond#of walking in the room and hearing TEN YEARS IN THE JOINT MADE YOU A FUCKING PUSSY#luckily she was so young and considered her son a lost cause and a burden as it is so. she complained but didn’t really do anything about#it. I mean shit she was like. only around 24-25 I think. but yeah
7 notes · View notes
arvale-artist · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
Oh. Oh my god. I'm currently cleaning and sorting out my drafted posts that have been collecting dust for months now, and came across THIS fucking post, from almost half a year ago that I never published!
Guess what past me. I'm STILL getting those dreams. And I'm STILL not complaining. I really am Arvale brainrotted, oh my god... It's not leaving man, it's not leaving.
I wrote some of these dreams down actually. I even posted about some of them in the past, but if I recall correctly I took those posts down. Can't be rambling too much about unofficial stuff that doesn't even exist, ya know?
#arvale#what's intersting is that a lot of them actually weren't strictly top down 2D RPGs like; you know#all other REAL arvale games except for melonchi minecarts#all of them felt OLD though. It felt like they were part of my father's retro video games collection.#Sometimes in those dreams they WERE part of his collection.#There was one weird dream that had Alone In The Dark graphics; which is part of my Father's collection#and certainly where my brain got the inspiration from. Because l watched him play it before I went to bed#early 2000s 3D graphics and locked camera angles for each level just like in the Alone In The Dark game#I was controlling DeMenchev again in some Mazulen looking temple (I remember golden bricks) and this time ALEX was there too#As a SIDEKICK. He was helping out with puzzles with his banger tools! Everytime there was a puzzle the view changed to 2D#Something that looked like one my father's old point-and-click escaperoom games. The game also felt tense because of monsters lurking and#Alex not wanting or being unable to fight ? Also very eerie atmosphere. The main source of light was DeMenchev's lantern; so dark otherwise#and then I remember playing lots more silly stuff like a 2D pixelart game that you could play in your browser about the royal Entoque Garde#You played Duncan and had to take care of the Entoque royal garden#you were able to customize the garden by adding or getting rid of plants. And even create your own type of flowers at some point?#It was a slow; chill game. I remember having it open in the background so the plants could continue to grow#while I was doing other stuff on my computer#And those are just 2 examples. I've been getting these quite consistently now since months... what the hell
0 notes
neverendingford · 3 months ago
Text
.
#tag talk#feels like you always get told “everyone has their own struggles” and shit like that. the idea that everyone's got some “hidden darkness”#feels funky how we hide so much inside. I feel like y'all see my worst side. feels like all I do here is vent and decompress and cry#new sort-of-partner keeps telling me I'm great and good and best partner they've had and idk. I'm skeptical.#my brother likes to talk about how compliments don't mean anything when the bar is incredibly low.#being above average doesn't mean anything if the average is abysmally low. idk. they said they really liked the hug I gave at the end#and that was pretty nice to hear. after a childhood full of men who gave shallow uncaring hugs I started to think about what makes a hug#do you put your arms around their shoulders? hands on their back? lower spine? how do you apply pressure?#I like to pull close. adjust a little bit. and then apply steady increasing pressure. it's always about pressure I think.#pressure makes people feel safe. comfortable. protected.#I remember hugging my dad one time when I was crying and it felt like he put his arms around me without ever really touching me.#like wire wrapped around me without any warmth or safety. I think about that hug a lot actually. it lives in my head.#all my life I've never been sure what I wanted to be. I've really only been confident about what I don't want to be. I don't want to be him#only able to express emotion in the most abstract form. unable to even truly comfort someone when they're overcome with emotion.#and I know it bothers him. he's told me before. how he feels this barrier between him and his family.#I know it's hard. but he's never learned how. unable to change who he is. I've always been terrified to end up like that.#sons and their fathers. yada yada you already know what's up.#idk. you'll just have to take my word for it that I'm actually a cool and smart and funny person. lord knows you don't see that from me here#I'm really curious if I can make this last more that stuff months. that seems to be my time limit before I break up on my own#I feel like I'm in a really precarious position. treading new ground. pushing the boundary of who I am for the first time in ages.#so funny that I've really spent so much time working on my persona. my mask. my alter-ego in maybe the most literal sense.#and now I realize I've completely neglected the core of who I am. I haven't atrophied. but I've been in stasis for so long.#yeah sure what the hell I can jokingly kin shadow the hedgehog if I really want to. (sorry that's gonna show up in tag searches now huh?)#I've been listening to Blindness by Metric on repeat all morning so that's the mood for today.#but I'll make it. I'll keep learning and keep growing. even if it's taken me over a quarter of a century to hit this point. I'll make#I'll make it. I'll make it.
1 note · View note
blakelywintersfield · 4 months ago
Text
Passive aggressive messages that boil down to "I'm being a snarky, chronically online asshole that has lost all ability to socialize with people offline and I think I'm so clever by being unnecessarily rude about something that's already been resolved, because I have nothing better to do with my time" are just gonna get deleted, especially if they're anonymous.
Hope that helps! 😉
#especially if it's anon lol like you don't even have the balls to behave that way without disguising your identity? okay coward#expected behavior from the ''you're not allowed to learn from your mistakes you should just die you'll be problematic forever'' webbed site#the irony that i was even thinking about the fact that people just refuse to admit when they've fucked up (like i did) when talking to the#op of that post 'cause everyone they'd informed prior to me that hamas was antisemitic just shut them down. 'cause they didn't want to admit#they were wrong. which happens! no one is right 100% of the time. but this terminally online behavior of unearthing shit that's already been#put to rest is actually a key contributer to the far-right pipeline. y'all refuse to let people grow and convince them they're never going#to make up for their mistakes and badger them with faux-clever ''gotchas'' and the other side is like ''we know you're not a monster‚ we#know you're a good person‚ we won't judge you‚ you shouldn't have to change yourself for people who will never be satisfied'' and of course.#many people go to the group that's willing to welcome and accept them. i'm not terminally online so i know anyone trying to reassure me i#did nothing wrong probably *is* antisemitic and right-wing aligning and i'm not about that. y'all infested with brainworms and unable to#conceptualize that people make mistakes‚ learn from them‚ and those involved in the matter can all come to an understanding and move on#aren't chasing me out of the leftist space either. 'cause y'all aren't leftists‚ you're modern day puritans. nosy‚ judgemental‚ and getting#off on condemning people who you don't know. better to mind your own business and check your own behavior.
1 note · View note
alygator77 · 5 months ago
Text
another wip from me. hehe. supermodel satoru.
warnings: mdni, smut, fluff, masturbation, obsession. (honestly, satoru feels kinda yandere af. he's fucking down bad for you.)
Tumblr media
supermodel! satoru whose life is a whirlwind—flashing cameras, designer clothes, and breathless whispers of adoration. on the surface, he has it all: the perfect career, the perfect face, the perfect life. but perfection… has its price.
supermodel! satoru who, after a ten-hour photoshoot that left him feeling more mannequin than man, slumps into the cold embrace of his sleek penthouse. the city glimmers outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, vibrant and alive, but it feels distant, like a movie playing on mute. he’s surrounded by luxury but drowning in solitude.
supermodel! satoru who, running on three hours of sleep and bad coffee, barely notices when his fingers fumble over his phone, sending a text message to you—meant for his manager. tossing the phone aside with a sigh, he stretches out on the couch, exhaustion pulling at his limbs—unaware that this accidental message is about to flip his world upside down.
supermodel! satoru who, when your response comes through, doesn’t realize at first that he’s texted a stranger. his initial confusion shifts to mild annoyance, but that changes the moment he reads your sharp, unfiltered reply. intrigue replaces irritation, and before he knows it, he’s texting back, unable to resist the pull of you on the other end.
supermodel! satoru who keeps his identity a secret, finding it strange at first, but soon, it becomes refreshing. for once, he’s not the face on billboards or the name in glossy magazines. no—for the first time in forever, someone is talking to him—not his fame, not his face, just him.
supermodel! satoru who finds himself grinning like an idiot whenever his phone buzzes with your name. you tell him about your life—mundane, you call it, but to him, it’s captivating. days turn into weeks—texts in the middle of the night when he’s jet-lagged and bored in some foreign country. voice notes where you laugh at his terrible jokes.
supermodel! satoru who one day, finally reveals who he is, and with a mix of arrogance and curiosity, boldly asks for your photo—eager to see the face behind the name he’s grown so fond talking to.
c’mon now... I show my face to the world every day. least you could do is show me yours ;)
your reply pings through, accompanied by an attachment, and for a moment, his breath catches.
supermodel! satoru who has seen countless beautiful people, surrounded by them every day, but there’s something about you that has him hooked. perhaps it’s not just the way you look—it’s the way you’ve made him feel. for the first time in forever, he’s not just admired; he’s seen.
supermodel! satoru who ends up sprawled out on his couch later that night, your picture propped up on the coffee table in front of him as he grips his shaft. his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweatpants pushed down to his thighs as his cock strains in his hand—red, leaking and desperate for attention. all he can focus on is you.
supermodel! satoru whose glossy lips part as he pants, pumping his dick, his head tipping back while the phone’s glow casts shadows across his flushed skin. his penthouse is filled with the slick sound of his hand sliding over his length, mixing with his shuddering breaths.
“fuuuck… so fucking pretty…” he rasps, his hips bucking into his fist. his strokes grow faster, more desperate, as his body thrums with heat.
supermodel! satoru who murmurs your name like a prayer, thick with need, chasing his inevitable release. “nnngh… gonna—ahhh—gonna cum f’you,” he moans, breathy and broken. His voice cracks as his back arches off the couch.
supermodel! satoru whose strokes grow frantic, erratic, his abs flexing tight as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his stomach, painting his skin in sticky streaks of white. the release leaves him trembling, every drop wrung from his body as a low groan escapes his parted lips.
supermodel! satoru who exhales a quiet laugh, his chest heaving as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he trails his fingers through the mess, smearing it across his toned abs as his smirk deepens—amused and awed by how much you’ve made him cum.
supermodel! satoru who can’t focus during his photoshoot the next day, every click of the camera drowned out by thoughts of you. his mind lingers to the filthy fantasy of your body beneath his—your lips whispering his name, your legs wrapped around his waist.
the ache in his pants becomes unbearable, and he excuses himself, slipping away to the bathroom under the pretense of ‘fixing his hair.’
supermodel! satoru who locks the bathroom door behind him with trembling fingers, his breath hitching as he pulls up your photo again. his hands fumble with the buttons of his designer pants, desperate to release his aching erection.
supermodel! satoru who stares at your picture with half-lidded eyes, his thumb swiping over the swollen tip of his dick, spreading a slick bead of precum across the sensitive head. "fuck… you’ve got me so worked up," he whispers with a cocky smirk, and his free hand grips the edge of the sink, his cock twitching eagerly in his fist.
“pretty girl… god, I’d ruin you,” he shudders as he fucks his hand. with a sharp inhale, he reaches out to twist the handles of the porcelain sink. but honestly, the cascading water is a feeble attempt to drown his debauched sounds—sounds he knows he can’t hold back.
supermodel! satoru whose mind spirals into pure filth, his fantasies running wild as he pictures your body beneath his—writhing, trembling, utterly at his mercy. your hands would cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he holds your legs apart, spreading you wide as he fucks your tight little hole.
"bet you'd look so fucking good under me," he hisses through gritted teeth. “all spread out, legs shaking… pretty little mouth begging f’me.” his hand tightens around his cock as his hips jerk forward, “fuuuuck, you’d take me so well, wouldn’t ya? haaa—every fucking inch.”
supermodel! satoru who is teetering on the edge when a sharp knock cuts through the haze, echoing against the bathroom door.
“satoru? you’re needed back on set!” his manager calls, muffled but clear.
but his strokes turn frenzied, the interruption fueling the thrill—the sheer audacity of jerking off in the middle of a shoot. his moans mix with the rush of running water and the persistent pounding on the door.
“shit—fuck—fuck—” his voice cracks, his body seizes, and in that instant his cock erupts. he whimpers, milking his dick as his forehead falls forward against the mirror. as his thick hot seed spills on his hand, it streaks across the counter in messy, sticky arcs.
“satoru!” the knocking continues, louder this time, his manager’s voice growing sharper.
“i’m coming!” he yells back, and the irony of his words pulls a breathless laugh from his lips.
supermodel! satoru who stands there for a moment, panting, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. he’s a fucking hot mess—cheeks flushed, his hair a disarray, and his lips are swollen from biting down so damn hard, trying to keep quiet.
supermodel! satoru who tucks himself into his pants, buckling his belt with practiced ease as his smirk slides back into place. he splashes cold water on his face, tidies his hair, and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, he’s the typical picture of confidence—swaggering back to set with a cocky grin as though nothing happened.
but deep down, he knows he’s utterly, completely fucked.
why? because you’ve become his favorite addiction, his sweetest downfall. and it’s only a matter of time before he finally makes you his.
Tumblr media
a full fic for this will be coming out! lmk if you wanna be tagged. edit: taglist closed
Tumblr media
11K notes · View notes
yanderedrabbles · 3 months ago
Text
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.
Tumblr media
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.
Tumblr media
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."
6K notes · View notes
cuntwrap--supreme · 8 months ago
Text
Just saw an article about how the phone line I have been using for 10 years now is about to get AI features. You seemingly cannot disable them. My phone updates automatically whether I tell it to or not. The most recent update has already fucked up autocorrect. I can type the sentence, "Yeah, I'm about to leave work," to my sister and it'll correct it to, "Yeah, if I am when I am leaving working." It just adds words and corrects me on shit that isn't wrong. Likes to put things in a tense other than the one I've been using previously. Or it'll straight up correct things to something that doesn't make sense (ex, I type "tge" by mistake and it corrects it to "yet"). I do not have the money for a new phone right now. I will lose my mind if AI becomes the way this thing functions.
1 note · View note
angeldarkrose · 1 year ago
Text
One day my boyfriend will have a normal girlfriend. A girl who can eat normally without her mind telling her to throw up. A girl who won’t waste his money on food. A girl who can actually take a compliment and not look away. A girl who can say how she truly feels without their voice breaking or her going quiet.
1 note · View note
monstersholygrail · 4 months ago
Text
Yandere!Grim Reaper
Male Yandere x Bimbo Fem!Reader || possible light dub/noncon, jerking off, fingering, sex toys, stalking, voyeurism.
A Grim Reaper has been following you around since childhood, bringing you back to life every time you die. But one foolish mistake has him finally revealing himself to you
Tumblr media
Yandere!Grim Reaper first met you when the two of you were young. He was only a fledgling Reaper and you were actually his first job. He had been watching you all day, watching you float through life so utterly clueless about everything around you. It was cute… and it would be your demise.
While playing out in the yard you accidentally throw your ball too hard and it rolls onto the road. Like a brainless little pup you go prancing right off the sidewalk, completely unaware of the car zooming down the street.
Seeing you so sweet and happy one minute and now seeing your soul slowly float out of your body causes something to churn in his stomach, his frown deepening. This wasn’t right, you were only his age. There was so much life to live.
So before your soul can completely detach from your form he rushes over and just kinda… pushes it back in. His head jerking from side-to-side as if someone was around to catch him.
Of course, the minute you pop back up, completely ignoring the frantic shouts of the driver, you get up and grab your ball like nothing even happened. Assuring the driver and heading back into the yard to play. He stares after you with his mouth agape.
What was he going to do now? He had broken the rules for you. Did the unthinkable. Now he had other jobs to do, but you were kinda… dumb. He couldn’t just leave you, you’d surely stumble onto another accident soon with how you were going about. No, he had to stay with you. Watch over you and keep you safe. That was his new job.
It had nothing to do with the fact that he may have felt physically unable to leave your side. The thought of not seeing you so joyful and full of life every day creating an unbearable ache in his chest. He needed you as much as you needed him.
And it’s a good thing he stayed too, his previous statement coming true as over the years, now well into your college career, you stumble upon accident after accident. Where he’d have to come over and slam your soul back into your body before you went on without a care. That’s how he liked you after all.
He’d lost track of how many times you’ve technically died. You were a regular at your closest hospital, friends with all the staff. A medical marvel they called you. None of them knowing it was because of him— because of how much he loved you even from the very first day you met. But you have seemed to take the nickname seriously, somehow growing more reckless with your life.
You thought yourself invincible. And perhaps in someway you were. He would not allow you to die and in fact, he may never.
But even he has a limit.
He stands in the corner of your bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest. Watching you intently as he always does while you prepare yourself for a nice soothing bath. He had to watch you. Danger could be lurking behind every corner, especially when it came to you.
So he didn’t exactly have a choice but to watch you in your dorm every day. It not being his fault his cock gets so hard every time, never able to resist fucking himself to the sight of you changing. Or keeping watch of you overnight as you sink your toys deep into your dripping cunt and he finds himself rutting against your bed in time with your thrusts, hovering over you. So close yet so far.
And even something like this now, watching you take a hot bath, was not uncommon for him. Hey, if he could slip in to take a shower with you every morning then watching you bathe was nothin’. It didn’t matter if you never have a clue he’s there, he’s just doing it to protect you after all. A silent observer.
You walk back into the bathroom and he perks up, spine straightening against the wall as you’re already shucking off your clothes. Throwing them carelessly across the tiled floor. Saliva pools in his mouth as you reveal your soft curvy body to him, yes, to him, with a painful slowness. Almost like you’re trying to tease him, torture him with what he desires most.
He pushes off the wall, hovering close to you as you throw your shirt off and reveal your drool-worthy breasts to him. And he has drooled. He’ll probably do it again. Maybe right now. Fuck, he wants to suck on your tits so bad. He shifts uncomfortably, his cock straining against its confines even in his loose-fitting robes.
It’s so easy to get lost in you and that sexy ass body, but when a smile that promises trouble lights up your face, it quickly snaps him out of his trance. He knows that look. He’s seen it every time just before you do something stupid and he has to bring you back to life.
You spin around and rush back into your room. He groans at the way your ass jiggles as you run, a shiver rolling through his body and making his cock twitch. Though he swears it instantly begins to deflate as you come waltzing back in with your electronic vibrator wand and its charger.
You’re not serious, are you? You not actually going to do this.
Though you quickly prove him wrong as you take a step into the tub, an excited giggle leaving you that nearly distracts him. Shaking his head to refocus, his brows furrow and his hands clench at their sides. This may just be a new low, even for you. No, he can’t let this happen, this is where he draws the line.
An idea so wicked forms in his head he almost banishes it. A smirk spreads across his lips and he knows it’s not going away. It’s time, he deserves this. And it’s the best way to protect you, he’s sure of it. This way he can keep you even more closely by his side. You won’t be able to get away from him for a minute. That thought is all the motivation he needs.
So as you bend over, oh so erotically, to plug in your vibrator wand, his hand snaps out to catch your wrist in his grip. Touching you, really touching you, for the first time. His cold dead heart flutters. You try and jerk back on instinct, a gasp pulling from deep within your chest. Your wide eyes snap up to meet his as he finally reveals himself to you. His smirk only widens at your reaction as if so utterly pleased with himself.
“Why don’t you let me take care of ya this time ‘round, yeah, little pup?”
3K notes · View notes
multy-d00dles · 6 months ago
Text
It's very easy to categorize the overblot as a breakdown- but all of them have a different type of lashing out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Riddle's behavior is a trauma response. He is not listening; instead, he is solely focused on himself, which is a reaction to not feeling heard compared to his mother. She is the person he fears the most, and although he hates that he loves her, he feels conflicted. She was supposed to help him grow, but instead, she only shielded him from the realities of life.
Leona is driven by fear. He’s afraid of finishing in first place because he’s so accustomed to starting from second. The thought of being vulnerable, admitting his fears, and acknowledging his struggles terrifies him. He is so frightened that he resorts to using dirty tricks.
Azul struggles with vulnerability; he avoids opening up or confronting his past. He remembers the child he was forced into hiding and a life of learning just to endure. This child has grown up to prefer lies over sincerity, believing that deception has brought him further in life.
Jamil is determined to gain control over his own life and choices. He feels this control is lacking due to his family's affiliation with Kalim. While he strongly desires control, this desire becomes unhealthy when it extends to others.
Vil is driven by his desire for recognition. He wants to be perceived as exceptional, a model that cannot be compared to others or regarded as inferior. He seeks to control how others view him to the extent that he is willing to manipulate their perceptions, which includes putting others down.
Idia struggles with trauma. He never overcame the death of Ortho or the events that affected him and his family. Forced to grow up quickly, he now finds himself unable to do many things that others take for granted. He struggles to communicate with people, suffers from low self-esteem, and experiences profound fear. This fear leads him to isolate himself in his room, as it feels like the only way he can cope with life.
Malleus explores the theme of loss—loss of a loved one, loss of oneself, loss of one's past, and loss of purpose. It reflects on the fear of change and the inevitability of things never being the same once someone you deeply care about is gone, even if it’s not your fault.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
nochepsicodelica · 7 months ago
Text
Suggestive
"Why do I have to sit out here while you try things on? I've seen you naked a fuck ton of times, but I can't be in the bathroom with you while-"
The door opens, revealing you in a new, red lingerie set that had just gotten delivered. "This one?" You ask, hands on your hips as you do a slow little three-sixty for Toji.
"Oh," he utters, a low chuckle following. He can't contain the smirk on his face as he eyes you up and down, taking in the entirety of the gorgeous sight you offer. "Come here, pretty mama," he says, beckoning for you to come closer to where he is on the bed. "Let me touch. See if you're comfortable in this."
You laugh and make your way over to him. "You're gonna tell me if i'm comfortable?"
"If it's rough on my hands, then I know it doesn't feel too good on your soft skin. Now, come here." His hands reach out, pulling you by your hips to stand between his legs. He hums, satisfied, as one hand rests on your ass, squeezing, while the other occupies itself with the front of your lacy underwear, just feeling up the material. "This is pretty soft. I could tear it off easily, too," he says, teasing you by tugging on the garment.
"Aaand that's enough from you." You pull his hands off of you and head back to the bathroom. You almost laugh at the way you can feel him watching you as you walk away.
You change out of that set and into the next nightly article— a silk, black slip dress. The door opens and this time you do giggle when Toji's attention is already on you.
"How's this?" You do another little spin to display your outfit change and nudge at one of the thin shoulder straps, teasing Toji by pushing it the slightest bit down. You see his hands reach out for you, signaling for you to come and let him grope you, again. "Mm-mm," you hum. "You know silk is soft."
"But I need to check your panties," he argues. Anything to have you in his hands, again. "What if the texture is too harsh on you?"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I wouldn't be wearing panties under this. Not wearing any now..." you say, a sultry hint in your tone, as you lift the hem of the short dress the slightest bit. Toji's eyes are devouring the slow reveal of your pretty skin, following the end of the smooth dress as it goes higher and higher. He's only able to blink with disillusion, when you let the material slide back down before he gets to see what you were teasing. "...and I won't be wearing any for its official debut."
"Fuck... you look so good, ma. Wanna touch you."
"Nope. There's one more." You pull the strap of your slip up and smirk, as if taunting him for not getting to touch you. He sighs when you turn around and scurry off to the bathroom again. The crotch area of his sweats is getting uncomfortably tighter and you walking away just makes him miserable.
The last getup took a little longer to put on than the other two, due to the sheer stockings and the garter belt, but it was all worth it in the end, because even you couldn't deny how good you looked.
You open the bathroom door and peek your head out to see if Toji's waiting, though his impatience doesn't leave you wondering for long.
"Don't tell me you're shy," he teases, in hopes of baiting you into revealing yourself quicker. "What, are you completely naked?"
You take a step out, instantly feeling a rush of nerves when you're in Toji's view.
"Oh, shut the fuck up..." He mutters to himself, absorbing the hellish sight of the little number you changed into.
You take a few more steps away from the bathroom, feeling your cheeks grow warm as Toji gawks at you, unable to pick his jaw up from the floor. You decide to tease him by pointing at yourself, then at the bathroom, insinuating whether you should go back in and change.
"No, no. Bring your fine ass over here." Even his posture straightens during his attempt to bring you closer. If you had gone back inside, he would've started sweating.
"Yeah, come here, sweetheart," Toji purrs, once you're in arms reach. "Do that little spin for me." You comply and spin slowly like you did the last few times, giving him a view of everything. "Fuck, you want me to die, huh?" He murmurs, smirking at the sound of the giggles he lures out of you. He pulls you in close, his hands resting on the backs of your thighs, his face pressed into your tummy. You tangle your hands in his hair, smiling down at him as he kisses your soft, warm skin, over and over. When he looks up at you with those precious green eyes, he has the most endearing, lovestruck look on his face.
"Gonna eat you out 'til you fucking cry."
"Yeah?" You ask, cupping his cheeks as he stares on. You click your tongue and laugh bashfully when he hums affirmatively.
"Let's test run this one today, hm?" Toji suggests, pressing more kisses onto your stomach, trailing them lower until his lips meet the waistband of your garter belt.
"Now?"
"Right now. Unless you have somewhere else to be," he says, fiddling with the thin, satin strap that rests on your thigh.
"You know I don't," you say, coursing your fingers through his hair.
"So, you're gonna let me at you, then?" He asks, standing up from the bed, towering over you in a single second.
"I'm all yours," you respond. That devilish little grin on your face was the final shove needed for Toji to push you onto the bed and pounce on you. "Ah-ah-- If you rip this off, you're banned from all of this..." you drag your fingertips over your lips, the gesture transitioning to your hand gliding down your neck, your chest, your abdomen, finishing off by splaying over your panties, "...for a week."
"You wouldn't," Toji says, challenging your threat, but when you simply hum and shrug in response, as if to say 'try me', he ends up doing as you say, and carefully stripping you.
5K notes · View notes