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ONE PIECE!

SOLO LEVELING!

DAY 20: MIRROR SEX (BF!Sung Jinwoo x Black!Chubby!GF!Reader) - You and your boyfriend decide to visit a carnival for a fall date night only to step into the House of Mirrors and get absolutely lost. Lucky for him, you’re a fucking freak and you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve to make this experience VERY interesting for your sexy boyfriend.

GANGSTA!

Must Be A Full Moon 🌕 (Werewolf!Nico x Black!Fem!Reader One Shot) (18+) - You’ve been dating Nico for about five months now and you couldn’t be happier with him. He’s big, he’s sexy, he’s protective, and he listens! He’s the perfect boyfriend…except for one thing: you haven’t had sex yet. Every time you come close to it, he always makes an excuse and leaves your apartment before anything more than kissing can happen. What is it, you wonder? Is he not sexually attracted to you? Is he nervous? What could it be? One dark night, while the moon is high in the sky after a costume party, you get your answer…and everything you’ve been craving from your big, strong, sexy boyfriend. 

OTHER (NON-ANIME)!

Desperado (Dom!Mizu x sub!Self-Insert!Reader One Shot) (18+) [COMMISSION FILL] - When you randomly ask Mizu to help train you to become a stronger fighter, she discovers the reason is that you plan on accompanying her on her journey for revenge. She initially refuses, but after a moment of passion turns into a night of confessed feelings and a goodbye, Mizu begins to change her mind about working alone.

ANIME CROSSOVERS!

ONE SHOTS

Babysitting Has Its Perks 🖤🐰 (Big Bro!Choso x Big Bro!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader One Shot) [18+] - You’ve been babysitting kids as a side hustle for a while now to get extra money. You have your regulars, one of them being a doctor’s cute little son Yuji. Though the pay is good, you admit that the main reason you come back to babysit the kid is because of his sexy older brother Choso. On Halloween, when Choso gets caught up in a pinch, he hits you up last minute to babysit Yuji and his bandmate’s little brother. You think this will be an easy night…until you meet Choso’s bandmate Dabi…and you decide to wear a bunny costume…and you realize just how much your secret crush and his hot friend love bunny girls.

SHORT STORIES/SERIES

Who Is In Control? (Jinwoo x Black!F!Reader x Gojo) [18+ Fic] - Sung Jinwoo is the highest-ranking hunter and the most powerful human being humanity has ever seen. So is Gojo Satoru. Both cocky, both confident, and both eager for more power, they compete against each other for each gate that seems to get more dangerous the farther and higher they go. They figure your gate won’t be any different and that you will be the usual big baddie that they need to take care of. Another cog in the system. Until they manage to beat you and find out who you truly are behind your facade. Now the hunters are hellbent on keeping you to themselves. So, what’s another friendly competition? Only this time, the prize is you. [ONGOING]

HEADCANONS N DRABBLES

They're Your Blind V-Day Date (18+) (Crossover Anime) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

HE’S SO F**KING BIG THAT HE COULD CRUSH YOU & YOU LOVE IT (18+) (for Fem!Readers)

HOLIDAY SPECIALS!

HALLOWEEN MASTERLIST

When you finally come to the theatre, all you do is stare at it for a while, fixated on the structure and architecture of the humongous building. You can tell it’s old, the stoned walls and steps aged with time and decades of shows and stories put on stage. 

Guests in their tailored suits and expensive dresses doused in fur shrugs and top hats despite the heat walk up the steps to the building, unaware of you and what you’re here for. 

You slide off of Reneigh’s saddle and fix your dress before tying her to a street pole between two carriages. “Wait here, darlin’,” you coo to her as you stroke her side. “I’ll be back.” Reneigh flicks her ears and nudges you in response, telling you to be quick about it.

With your heart pumping as quickly as a hummingbird’s wings, you strut in your shoes up the steps to the doors of the theatre. You come to the front lobby where several ticket booths are set up handing out tickets for the show. It’s an opera, translated to “The Sweet Sensation of Suffering”. 

You walk up to a young man in a red suit, hat, and white gloves dressed as a ticketman. “Good evenin’, madame!” the young man says. “How can I help you?” 

You keep calm, not wanting to give yourself away despite your roaming eyes. You’re looking hard for Benji but you suddenly feel like you’re looking too hard. You take two coins out of your purse. “One ticket, please,” you say, pushing the two coins across the counter. 

He takes them before clipping a ticket for you and passing it your way. “Here you are,” he politely says. “Enjoy the show, miss!” 

You give him a small smile and a nod before heading towards the doorway stated on your ticket. You pass by multiple people that are so unlike you. They don’t hide. They don’t sneak. They don’t have to dodge the law or danger at every corner. Though they don’t give you weird looks, you still feel uncomfortable. You feel like you don’t belong here. 

The only time these feelings shut off is when you’re finally in the theatre and walking to your seat among the sea of people adorned in expensive clothes, accessories, and jewelry. ‘This place is like a pick-pocketer’s gold mine,’ you think to yourself. 

Pardoning yourself, you shimmy through a tight row and find a spot next to an older woman in a blue dress and silver updo. She is busy speaking to her much younger lover next to her, paying no mind to you. While she sits on your right, the seat next to you is empty. 

The stage below is covered by a red curtain, the show not on yet. Just enough time to scout for your target. You begin to look around, scanning each face and back of the head. Your body reacts each time as if you see your target, your hands trembling as they grip the seat and your blood pumping. When the lights finally dim and the audience cheers, your eyes move to the row at your left. 

There, in the upper left corner a few feet away, you see him. You nearly gasp but hold your breath, staring at him in the darkness. He is sitting in a box with two other women, each one adorned in pearls and gloves, one of them holding binoculars to see below. 

On stage, the curtain rises and a plump woman with a big bust wearing a long, black dress begins to sing in Italian. Her voice is soft yet powerful but it doesn’t gain your attention. You’re too busy staring at Benji. 

‘It’s him,’ you realize. ‘He’s really here!’ 

The bandit nearly takes up space with how big he is, sitting in his suit and puffing on a cigar between his meaty fingers. He watches the show below, completely oblivious to you who stares at him with bloodlust like a shark in the darkness. ‘He’s so close,’ you think. ‘If only I could just move closer…’ 

But you can’t because someone has sat down next to you. You abruptly turn to the front, watching the show below. The woman has now sprouted fake wings that flap around, controlled by the thin ropes holding them from up above. 

“Fancy seein’ you here, ma’am,” a very familiar voice suddenly says beside you. 

Your body instantly tenses, recognizing the voice immediately. ‘No,’ you think in dread. ‘It can’t be…’ 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Do we know each other? You just look so…familiar.” Slowly, you turn your head to see your seat neighbor and find it to be none other than Valentine dressed in a rogue-colored suit. 

It’s like seeing the Devil with your own two eyes. He smirks at you, his ringed hands folded in his lap. “Ah,” he chuckles. “So it is you. Glad to see that prison didn’t make me go completely insane.” 

You can’t move, your body glued to the seat, yet you find the will to speak. “W-What are you doin’ here?” you whisper. “H-How are you–” 

“Here?” Valentine finishes. He leans toward you, his lips brushing against your ear. “Usually, I wouldn’t expose my secrets to a lyin’, backstabbin’, nosey ass bitch like you.” You flinch at the ice in his tone. “But since ya caught me on a good night, you're target down there bailed me out.” 

He nods up at Benji still smoking his cigar, his big hand on the thigh of one of his female guests. You stare at Valentine, wide-eyed. “Oh, we work together!” he laughs. “He’s my boss. Didn’tcha know? Well, ya know now.” 

Immediately, realization hits you dead on. “Gojo and Geto,” you shakily whisper. “The Cherrywood train masscre…you framed them for it. Benji helped you do it.” 

Valentine puts a finger to his lips, smiling. “But why?” you ask. Have the Gunslingers left the Bandit feeling THAT butthurt because they left him? 

“Benji is a very secretive man, as I’m sure you know,” Valentine says. “He had to take precautions to make sure his two infamous slingers ain’t run they mouths about where he is or what he’s doin’. He was hopin’ the train would kill ‘em when it crashed, but prison worked just as well.” 

You grip your seat harder, your gun pressing against your thigh.“So what now, huh?” you hiss. “You gon’ kill me too? In front of all these people?” 

His devious smirk widens. “I was thinkin’ of talkin’ first,” he chuckles. “We don’t wanna rush this.” 

He opens his jacket and pulls out a gun, laying it on his lap. You stare at him, fear making your stomach flip flop. “But if you tell me where Geto and Gojo are, I just may spare ya. The only thing I’ll do is drag ya out by your hair and let the law have at ya.” 

Both options are horrible, so you don’t hesitate to fix your mouth to lie. “They’re not here,” you say. “It’s just me.” 

Valentine grips your neck and roughly yanks you toward him. “You lyin’ whore!” he snarls into your ear. “Don’t fuckin’ try me, bitch. I’ll blow your brains out right here.”

He presses the gun into your cheek, making your heart pound. “And then what?” you growl. “You’ll be caught before you can even escape! Look around you!” 

He does and his ugly, enraged expression softens. Then he laughs. “Oh, you clever bitch. Now I remember why I liked you so much…other than how amazin’ that pussy was.” 

He trails the gun down South, prying your legs apart. You do your best to resist punching him. “What do you want?” you whisper. 

His eyes flash with something that isn’t friendly or warm. “Revenge,” he growls. He doesn’t elaborate any more than that, but he doesn’t have to. “Yer comin’ with me right now and don’t even think about tryin’ to fight me off.” His free hand grabs your wrist while the gun presses into your side. 

You don’t even get a chance to utter a prayer when the doors to the theatre suddenly open with a loud bang that startles the audience and the stage below. 

You turn, finding your gunslingers standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light pouring into the doorway. The music ceases, allowing everyone's full attention as they walk into the room. 

You’ve never been so happy to see them. Their hats sit low on their heads and their guns are already in their gloved hands, ready to shoot. “Sorry to interrupt this show,” Gojo calls, his voice echoing among the silent theatre, “but we’re lookin’ for somebody. So if ya value your life and don’t want to end up six feet under, I suggest–” 

“They’ve got guns!” someone screeches from somewhere in the room. And just like that, the entire theatre erupts into madness. 

People race to the exits, avoiding Geto and Gojo, stepping over each other and knocking each other down. Distracted by the commotion, Valentine’s hand loosens its grip on you. 

Quickly, you yank yourself out of his hold and hurry out of your seat, doing your best to move among the crowd of people. Gojo and Geto are just a few feet away from you, but Benji is gone. 

You raise a hand to try and get their attention, but you’re suddenly stopped by a sharp blow to the back of the head. 

With a gasp, you fall to your knees and grip the back of your head. Your fingers come back stained with blood. “Oh, not you don’t,” Valentine snickers. “You don’t get to run away from me that easily.” 

You sink onto the dirty theatre floor, your face pressed against the carpet. Valentine stands over you, his eyes void of light. Just darkness. “Nighty-night, bitch,” he whispers. 

It’s the last thing you hear before silence descends over you and you fall into an inky blackness. 

You awaken sometime later to some cold water being splashed in your face.

“Wake, wakey, bitch,” Valentine sings. “It ain’t lights out for ya yet.” 

You sputter and cough as you’re forced awake, suddenly staring up at the starry sky and a man standing above you. You try to move, but can’t and look down to see yourself restricted with rope bound tightly around you. Your dress is ruined and one of your shoes is missing.

But none of that stuns you as much as the state you find yourself in: your legs, ankles, and midsection are all tied to the railroad tracks of an outdoor train station. Immediately, your head is flooded with warning signals, alerting your entire body of danger. “What is this?” you gasp. “Where am I?” 

The man standing above you smirks down at you, his gorgeous face and wicked smile illuminated by the full moon above. Where ya belong,” Valentine cackles. 

He turns around, laughing to something behind him. “See, I told ya her reaction would be priceless!” You squint into the darkness behind him where benches sit under a hood for those to wait for trains. 

The entire station is dark, the gas street lamps completely void of flames. You see shadows lingering near a bench, one of them four-legged and whinnying softly. You recognize it as a humungous horse. The other shadow rises from the bench and stands under a non-lit gaslamp. He lights a cigarette, illuminating his horribly familiar face and salt-n-pepper hair. 

“You,” you hiss. 

Benji smiles at you, his gold tooth glinting in the moonlight. He struts up to you and Valentine in his suit, confident and pompous. “Nice to finally meet you too, miss,” he chuckles. “I’ve heard lots about ya. You’ve got the entire population of male outlaws shakin’ in their boots with the pistol on you. That’s impressive.” 

He puffs on his cigarette before lightly tapping the ashes on your dress, putting holes in the fabric. “But not enough to shake me,” he growls, his face darkening. “I been lookin’ for your ass for a minute now. Word is you were out lookin’ for me too.” 

You don’t say anything, knowing well enough not to. He kneels down in front of you, his one brown eye narrowing at you. “I know what you do,” he snarls. “You hunt down guys like me and Valentine. You hunt ‘em, smoke ‘em, and then leave ‘em for the buzzards or the law to have.” 

He smirks maliciously. “Well, you won’t be doin’ that this time, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to ya, though you did do a fantastic job.” 

Valentine shakes his head down at you. “Needy thang just couldn’t leave us alone,” he sighs pittingly. “I knew there was a chance you’d find your way here. Soon as I saw ya walkin’ in here, I knew we had to act now. That’s why I waited here fer you and yer stupid boyfriends to come through when Benji’s men lost y’all on the road.” 

You are horrified as everything starts to unravel in front of you. So they are trying to kill you and the Gunslingers. They knew you’d be here. “

I had a feelin’ it was you,” Valentine says. “That woman I ran into earlier at the hotel. I’ve never seen ya face, but I knew I’ve seen them vengeful eyes somewhere before.” Benji chuckles at this, standing up to smoke the rest of his cig. 

Though it’s so obvious, you ask anyway: “So what are y’all gonna do?” you hiss. “Just kill me?” 

The two outlaws smile, filling you with dread. “Bingo,” Valentine chuckles. “Well, we were gonna wait till your outlaw lovers got here to save ya, but they’re nowhere to be found unfortunately.” 

“I told y’all, they ain’t here!” you angrily say, raising your voice. “We parted ways on the way here. I came to Sage County by myself to find Benji.” 

Valentine’s expression grows sour and he slips a gun out of his jacket. “You lyin’ little–” 

“Hang on,” Benji cuts in, holding him back. “She may be tellin’ the truth. And even if she ain’t, you know she won’t say nothin’ about where they are.” He turns to you, actually looking so sorry for you. 

“Sorry to do this to ya, Y/N,” he sighs. You shiver at your name coming from his lips, sounding so utterly wrong. “But I just can’t have anyone huntin’ me down like this. I’ll hand it to ya, honey: you’ve got guts.” 

He takes his cig out of his mouth and tosses it down into the railroad tracks near your head. “But then guts will gethcha killed.” 

At that moment, the traffic lights above you turn red, signaling the arrival of the train. And then you hear the clanking sound, meaning that it’s almost here. You begin to wriggle around as the outlaws walk away from you, leaving you to die. “Wait!” you shout. “Wait, wait!” 

Benji hops on his horse first while Valentine hops on after, giving you the middle finger. “Have fun makin’ the newspapers, bitch!” he laughs. “I’m sure the law would love to see that your ass is finally dead and gone.” Benji’s horse whines as if it’s taunting you too and takes off down the road, leaving you alone. 

And then the sound of the train whistle blows. It’s like Death calling you. You turn your head to the left, finding the train moving toward you in the distance. “Fuck!” you scream. You wriggle and buck under the binds, trying to shimmy your arms out, but nothing works. So you scream. 

“Help!” you holler. “Someone, please help me!” You plead and shout until your throat burns, tears springing into your eyes. 

But no one is here. So no one is coming. You begin to cry as the train chugs forward, getting closer and closer to you with every passing second. This is it. You’re going to die. You close your eyes, seeing Geto and Gojo behind your eyelids. ‘I’m sorry,’ you think. 

You almost believe yourself to be hallucinating when you suddenly hear boots running toward you and then some soft, calloused hands on you. You open your eyes, looking up at the pale green ones of a stranger. He is a handsome blonde, possibly in his early thirties, wearing a crisp button-down with the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny, toned arms, dress slacks, and polished shoes. 

“It’s going to be okay, miss,” he pants, his voice deep and soft like silk. “I’ll get you out of here.” He begins to tug at the ropes and at the knot under your breasts. 

When you realize that he is in fact real, you begin to sob even more. This is God sending you an angel. “Hurry!” you cry. “Please, please hurry!” 

He does so, trying in vain to untie the knot but it’s too tight and the ropes are too thick. “Goddammit!” he swears, panicking. The train is getting closer, its whistle damn near taking out your eardrums. 

Then you remember. “My knife!” you shout. “It’s under my dress!” 

The blonde looks down at your legs, momentarily hesitant. He even blushes. “I’m sorry about this,” he whispers before his hand crawls under your dress to feel up your thigh. His fingers are long and calloused as they drag against your skin. Finally, he slides the knife out of your garter belt and begins to saw at the knot, moving fast. 

But the train moves faster. It gets closer and closer, only several feet away from you. You begin to cry louder staring into its headlights like a deer. Finally, the rope breaks and you are released. 

“Got it!” he shouts and yanks you on top of him without a moment’s hesitation. You fall into the dirt off of the tracks together, alive and breathing. 

The train zooms past you a second later, its engine and the steel tracks rumbling in your ears and blowing your hair as it passes. To think that you would’ve been under that train if the man hadn’t freed you a second before makes you sick. You would’ve been dead. 

The man looks up at you, panting heavily. “Are you alright, miss?” he asks. You don’t say anything, too stunned to speak. His thigh is wedged between your legs as you lay pressed against him, the shock of the situation fading. 

“Y/N!” Geto shouts. You and the man look up, finding the Gunslingers jumping off of their horses and barreling toward you. You jump off of the stranger who stumbles to his feet, stunned at the two outlaws. 

And even more at the pistol Geto pulls on him. “You get the fuck away from her,” he demands, his voice low and frightening. “Who are you?” 

The blonde puts his hands up in defense, shaken. “Hold on now, I didn’t–”

Geto cocks the gun at him. “Talk,” he demands. “Now before I put a bullet in you.” Gojo stands behind the blonde, his gun also drawn and his blindfold pulled up to expose his shockingly blue eyes. 

 “Wait, Geto, stop!” you shout, grabbing Geto’s arm. “He didn’t do anythin’ to me! He just helped me escape before the train came. He saved my life.” 

Geto’s sharp expression softens somewhat at the revelation, but not enough to drop the gun. “It’s true,” the blonde huffs. “I would never do anything so barbaric to your lady, especially in the situation she was in.” 

The Gunslingers share a look before looking back at the blonde standing between them. “Name?” Gojo asks (more like demands).

“Kento Nanami,” the blonde introduces. “I’m a doctor from Willow Springs who came here for a medical conference in town.” Your eyes widen and your stomach flips at the name. Your dream home. “Willow Springs?” you breathe. 

The blonde nods, not at all understanding why this excites you. “Yes, it’s where my place of business is. I was just waitin’ for the next train when I came across you and those two men. One of them got away, but I managed to get his partner.” 

Geto and Gojo only drop their guns because Nanami walks you up the road to where Nanami’s blazer lies next to a very beaten-up, dead-looking Valentine. His nose is dripping with blood and one of his closed eyes looks swollen as he lies in the dirt. “He’s just unconscious,” Nanami says. “He ain’t dead.” 

Gojo looks up to the sky, relieved. “Thank God!” he sighs. “We don’t need the law on our backs even more than they already are.” 

But Geto still isn’t convinced. “And you can swear you’re tellin’ the truth?” he asks, still giving Nanami that same sharp stare. Nanami firmly nods, his eyes unyielding and his jaw set. 

“Then I owe you a big apology,” Geto says, slipping his gun back in its holster by his hip. He puts his hand out for Nanami to shake (Nanami doesn’t take it). “Forgive me, Mr. Nanami. She’s very special to us.” At this, your stomach flutters. 

“And in some very big trouble,” Gojo growls. The fluttering stops and you glare at the white-haired outlaw. “Sorry about this whole thing, Mr. Nanamin!” He pats the blonde hard on the back, smiling sheepishly. 

“It’s Nanami,” Nanami corrects him, still frowning. “And it’s quite alright. I’m sure an outlaw has his habits, especially if they have business with Valentine and Benji the Bandit.”

 His eyes switch to you, knowing yet not judging. “And with you too, apparently.” 

Though you feel slightly hesitant about revealing your true identity, you know that it’s inevitable. And the man just saved your life. “I’m their partner,” you explain. “I’m the Fatale Femme.” 

Nanami nods, barely having any kind of reaction. “I’m not gonna tell,” he says, sensing your thoughts. “But the entire world knows who you are at this point because your posters are everywhere. Though I’m not a fan of violence, I respect what you do for victims of it by bringin’ justice to them, many of whom are from my town who fell victim to people like the ones you’re after.” 

At that moment, you feel all of your tension and concern leave you. “Well, that’s nice to know,” Gojo chuckles. “Listen, was there any chance Benji told you were he was headin’ off to?” 

Nanami shakes his head, much to your dismay. “I’m afraid not,” he sighs. “He rode off headin’ that way.” 

He points opposite to where the train was headed on the second set of tracks on the other side of the platform. “He’s headin’ North,” Geto says, squinting into the dark.

 You slap your thigh, overjoyed. “Which means we still have a chance to get him!” you exclaim. You turn to Nanami and vigorously shake his hand. “Thank you again for your help, Mr. Nanami. We’ll be on our way now.” 

But the Gunslingers aren’t as eager to jet as you are. Gojo clears his throat and lays a hand on your lower back. “Y/N, sugar,” he begins, “I know you must be a little frazzled right now so your head ain’t workin’ right, but I’ll fill in the blanks for ya: did you just hear where Mr. Nanami is from?” 

You blink at him clueless and he raises a brow at you. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go with him since you’re fixin’ to go there anyhow?” Now is when the gears in your head finally start training and you shove his hand off of you. 

“What?!” you snap, bewildered and shocked. “But what about our deal? And I can’t just take a train! What if someone recognizes me?” 

Gojo snorts, rolling his sapphire eyes. You’re actin’ like we can’t just get you inside with the luggage.” 

You glare at him, hating his go-lucky attitude when he’s talking about you abandoning your mission. “And you’re actin’ like I can just leave my horse and break my promise,” you snap. 

“You’re not breakin’ your promise, darlin’,” Geto soothingly says. He moves to touch you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“We’re just sayin’ that it’d be better if you just leave now instead of stayin’ here with us since we’ll have to part ways in Willow Springs anyway. You almost died tonight and–” 

“Oh, stop!” you scoff, smacking his hand away. “I’m not a little girl and I sure as hell ain’t your woman, so stop treatin’ me like I am.” 

Both men look at you in shock though you see something else. Something like disappointment in their eyes. You ignore it. “We are partners. I gave y’all my word and I ain’t goin’ nowhere until Benji is behind bars. Besides, I’ve had many brushes with death before, so this is no different.” 

Even as you say that, your nerves are still shaky, knocking you slightly off balance. But wouldn’t anyone still be shaken from almost getting hit by a train? 

Nanami clears his throat to ease the tension. “Well, if you ever change your mind and show up in town, I’d be happy to help.” 

His eyes are kind despite his stoic expression and you nod, exhaling to release your anger. He looks down at his watch, tapping it. “Y’all might want to head out before the next train comes.” 

“First we’ve gotta take care of him,” Gojo says, nudging Valentine with his foot. “And leave a note for the law folk.” He smirks at Geto who already takes a pencil out of his pocket. 

Before you pack up to go, you sit Valentine up against the pole of a street lamp and pin a note to his chest: 

A Valentine gift for the sheriff - from G, G & FF

While the duo set their horses up to head out, Nanami walks you away from the tracks, his hands behind his back and his blazer on. 

“Thank you again for your help, Mr. Nanami,” you say softly. He nods, clearing his throat. 

“Kento,” he says. “I’ll make sure the sheriff and his men get him behind bars for you.” He then retrieves his hands from his pack and holds an item out to you: your knife. “You be careful with them, miss,” he says, seriousness in his gaze. 

You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Finally, you give him a grateful smile and take the knife. “Y/N,” you whisper. “And thanks, but I can handle ‘em.” He nods, leaving it at that, and you depart. 

You are quiet as you walk up to Geto’s horse, refusing his help. You hop on yourself and get settled on the Bronco before he hops on in front of you. Gojo hops on his own horse, giving you a concerning look as he passes by you. 

“Ya wanna talk about what just happened?” Geto gently asks, not looking at you. 

You place your hands on his hips, his back pressing against your front, and ignore the way his scent makes your body feel. 

“No,” you answer, more bitterly than you meant to. “I just wanna take a shower and leave. We’re wastin’ time the longer we’re here.” 

Geto glares at you both under his hat from a rack of dresses, eyeballing two beautifully sewn pieces. “Don’t attract any unwanted attention, you two,” he criticizes. “Hmm…this isn’t quite your color. Maybe somethin’ red…” 

“And you think that this is gonna work?” you ask. “‘Cause you realize this entire plan could go to shit.” 

Gojo goes to take out a cigarette, only stopping when the shopowner eyeballs him. “Have some faith in us, sugar,” he scoffs at you. “You’re lookin’ at two seasoned actors here. None of our plans go to shit!” 

After running like hell away from Benji’s men who rudely ambushed you, you three finally made it to Sage County. 

It is truly the crown jewel of this Northside of the county––buildings towering over you, steam rising from chimneys, businesses, and shops; carriages traveling down the street; train stations and food carts and people trying to sell you shit, not recognizing you behind your bandana and hat. But as soon as they saw the Gunslingers, they backed off. 

“We’ll have to lay low for a minute if Benji is really here,” Geto said as you walked, his hat tipped low to not give off any red flags or tips to anyone who could recognize them. “So stayin’ at a hotel for a day or two might be the move. It won’t knock us off course either.” 

You walked between the duo, pulling Reneigh along behind you. “I don’t get it,” you scoffed. “How did he even find us?” For Benji’s men to know exactly where you were is no coincidence. 

“Benji’s got his ways, little miss,” Geto says, puffing on a cigarette Gojo passes him. “He’s got people all over the place; a whole operation of members. I wouldn’t be shocked if his bandits in Bull’s Creek said somethin’ about us lookin’ for him.” Now it all makes sense! Someone snitched! 

“So now he’s tryin’ to take us out,” you sighed. “Great. Maybe they’ve got a Willow Springs in the afterlife.” 

Gojo’s blue eyes lock on yours, irritation swimming in them. “Don’t say that,” he said, so firmly that it shuts you up completely. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to us. We’re gonna get ya to Willow Springs and bag Benji ‘cause that’s what we agreed on.” 

The blue-eyed outlaw stands with you now, pulling out a slim, violet dress decorated in beads. “Oooh, this is pretty,” he coos. “Rich-lookin’, dontcha think?” 

He shows Geto who taps a thoughtful finger against his chin. “It’s her color,” he says, delighted by the little article of clothing. “Now all we need is some accessories.” You snort as you watch the two grown men look for necklaces and earrings. “Y’all are enjoyin’ this more than me. 

Gojo laughs, passing you the dress with some satin shoes. “It’s always fun to play dress-up now and again. Now put this on and show us how ya look.” He shoos you off to a try-on room while he and Geto look for accessories to hide their features. 

You try on the dress and the slippers, noticing how soft they are and how the dress hugs you tight. You feel good in it. Normal, even, like a regular woman who doesn’t bust guns and jump from county to county. 

You look at yourself out of your hat, boots, and bandana, feeling different, but a good different. You feel beautiful. When you walk out to show Gojo and Geto, they are busy counting their coin to pay for the items. 

“How do I look?” you softly ask, making them stop. You immediately have their attention, their eyes grazing over your body and the extra layer of skin that the dress provides. “Like you could win an award,” Gojo chuckles. You instantly feel like maybe this plan could work. 

After the boys change into their own disguises–suits and fake mustaches–, you head over to the five-star hotel you had your eyes on before and park the horses outside before heading into the clean, sophisticated-looking lobby. A man in a doorman uniform looks up from his book, immediately frowning at the sight of the Gunslingers. 

“Are you here to purchase tickets for the opera tonight?” he asks, nervously staring up at the very tall, very muscular men holding your bags behind you. You shake your head, though it does explain why so many rich-looking folks are here. “Can I help you then?” 

“I hope you can,” you snootily respond, trying not to laugh as you do. “I’m attending the opera tomorrow and ordered a room here beforehand, but it was taken without my knowledge! I’d like to pay for another, please.” 

The man, still nervous, nods and flips through the book where a bunch of room numbers sit. “May I have your name so I can put you on the waitlist?” he asks. 

That’s when you muster up as much of your acting skills as you can. “Waitlist?” you scoff, putting a hand to your heart. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” 

The man stays silent, so you continue. “Alana Tabuki, first of my name, owner of several acres. Now, I don’t want to believe that you’d disrespect me, sir, because you’d also be disrespecting my men.” 

You turn to the Gunslingers who still look menacing despite their disguises. You offer them your arms dripping in bangle bracelets. “They don’t take too kindly to that, do you, boys?” you titter. 

The duo takes each of your hands and begins to pepper them in kisses, starting from your knuckles to up your arm to your shoulder. Each kiss leaves a trail of fire up your skin, similar to how Gojo’s kiss made you feel. Once they get to your neck, you start to feel liquid heat pour into your stomach, especially when the two begin to softly moan in your ear. 

Is this still a part of the plan? 

“O-Okay, that’s enough,” you stutter, feeling hot in your dress. “We don’t want to make the poor man feel uncomfortable.” 

The desk clerk, sweating bullets and looking like he wants to die, rapidly grabs a room key from behind him and drops it into your hand. “O-oh, look at that!” he squeaks. “We have a room that just opened! Please follow our luggagemen to take your bags, ma’am!” He nods at the two luggagemen near the elevator. 

You nod your thanks and slip Geto the key. “Nicely done,” he whispers, pocketing the key before walking off with Gojo who gives you a wink. You proudly smile and follow them close behind as they help the luggagemen with their bags, probably weary about giving them their shit. 

But before you can walk into the elevator, someone comes around the corner and bumps into your side, nearly knocking you down. “Oh, excuse me!” you gasp, stumbling to the left. What you really want to say is, “Hey, watch it!”, but you know that would gain too much bad attention. 

However, when you look at the stranger, all words and thoughts cease to exist. All you feel is fear and dread wrapped up in one as you stare at the man before you. Benji the Bandit is much bigger in person–about six-something feet towering over you and even bigger because of his hulking frame. You bet he’s even taller than Geto and Gojo combined. 

He is much older with long, black hair streaked in gray, a salt-and-pepper beard, an eyepatch that covers his scarred right eye, and a smile glittering in gold that sends shivers down your spine. Despite the wrinkles by his eyes, obvious aging, and the suit he wears, he still scares you like he’s the Boogeyman. 

“No,” he says in a deep, gravelly voice that sends shivers down your spine. “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m so desperate to get these opera tickets that I forgot my footing.” 

He laughs, the sound like a rumbling earthquake, and gives you a nod before heading off to do his business, walking with a slight gate on his long cane, his big, ringed hand tattooed with a rose on it. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Gojo is pulling you inside the elevator and the doors shut, and with it, your target. Benji The Bandit, right in the flesh.

Your hotel suite is much better than sleeping in a tent or in the open by a fire. 

The clerk hooked you and the Gunslingers up with two separate bedrooms with their own washrooms, and a lounging space with two fluffy armchairs and a couch near a window overlooking the streets below. The floor is shag carpet, the walls are painted a buttercream yellow, and sweet-smelling, red flowers sit on the table in front of you where you sit on the couch. 

Included with the flowers are two trays of food, a bucket of ice, and a complimentary bottle of champagne that Gojo has already popped open. The trays are littered with finger foods: crackers, all kinds of cheese, fruits, meats, and mustard. Gojo sits next to you, chomping on cheese and sipping bubbly, his bare feet kicked up and having ditched his disguise for a wife beater. 

You hear the water in his and Geto’s chosen bedroom shut off and out walks Geto in a robe, his muscled calves and chest dripping in water on full display. He pulls his wet locks into a bun, looking like a wet, dark-haired Adonis. “Ah,” he sighs. “Much better, though I am jealous of the two of you for havin’ such a beautiful view durin’ your soak this mornin’.” 

He smiles at you but you can’t find it within yourself to return it. You would be indulging in the luxury of the room with them if it wasn’t for Benji The Bandit taking up your thoughts. 

“You should,” Gojo chuckles. “It was a very beautiful view…I mean, before we were rudely interrupted by bullets, don’t you agree, Y/N?” 

You don’t really hear him, staring blankly down at your satin slippers sitting by the door. You haven’t yet changed out of your dress, even though your bag is in your bedroom now. “Y/N?” Gojo repeats. You turn to him, finding him and Geto staring at you. “S-Sorry,” you say, flushing with embarrassment. “I’m just a little tired is all.” 

But Gojo isn’t dumb. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You’ve got somethin’ on that mind of yours.” He pours you a glass of champagne and passes it to you. You barely take a sip. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried. “Can’t we talk about it? It’s important that you’re feelin’ as good as we do.” 

You want to tell them you saw Benji, but at the same time, you don’t want to worry them. They seem so relaxed. “How come y’all wear gloves all the time?” you randomly ask.

 They blink at you, confused. You nod down at Geto’s bare hands which are bigger and thicker than Gojo’s. “I noticed even when we’re not on our horses, you wear gloves. Y’all germophobes or somethin’?” 

You make the joke to avoid getting forced to cough up the truth, but you even feel weird doing that. Gojo snatches a strawberry from the tray. “Nah,” he chuckles, chewing on the fruit. “But Sugu is. I’m shocked he hasn’t wiped this place down yet.” 

His partner glares down at him. “Not yet,” he growls, snatching the champagne glass from a giggling Gojo. “The gloves are for protection. Not only to avoid leavin’ fingerprints on our targets but to also hide our tattoos.” 

He shows you his rose tattoo inked on his knuckles, the same as Gojo’s. “Benji made us get these when we started,” he explains. “He wanted us to prove our loyalty to him by gettin’ his symbol on our skin forever.” He snorts crudely at the ink, shaking his head. 

Seeing the distaste in his and Gojo’s faces at the sight of the ink on their skin, forever bonded to them whether they like it or not, you break. “I saw Benji earlier,” you finally confess.

A tense, shocked silence falls onto the room and you instantly regret saying anything. “What?” Geto asks and his tone shocks you––it’s sharp and intimidating like an angry father would use. “When?” he demands. 

You swallow hard, knowing you can’t button your lip now. “Earlier while y’all were takin’ the luggage to the elevator. He bumped me comin’ around the corner.” 

The duo continue to stare you down, making you feel uncomfortable. “Did he say anythin’ to you?” Gojo asks. You passively shrug, hugging yourself as a way to self-pacify. “Just that he was sorry and he’s goin’ to the opera tonight…which I also think we should attend.” 

The white-haired outlaw scowls at you. “And how in the fuck are we supposed to do that?” he scoffs. “We don’t even have tickets!” 

You scoff, glaring at him. “This is comin’ from the same guy who scammed a motel clerk out of some rooms,” you sharply retort, eyeing the both of them suspiciously. “What’s up with y’all anyway? All of a sudden, y’all sound like y’all don’t wanna catch this big-bodied bitch.” 

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Geto firmly protests. “We wanna catch Benji as much as you do, but this is also the same guy who tried to kill us just this mornin’. If he knows we’re here, we could be in big trouble and blow this whole operation to hell. That’s why I said we need to lay low for a bit.” 

But that isn’t good enough for you. “So we just…sit here and let him get away?” 

You can’t help but be increasingly pissed at this new “plan”. You would think that the Gunslingers would be jumping at the chance to get Benji, but instead, they’re hesitant. Resistant. Not at all the Gunslingers you met and thought they were. 

“It can’t be just a coincidence that he’s here at the same time as us, Geto,” you argue. “It’s a miracle! Obviously, somethin’ in the universe is tellin’ us to get this guy and y’all are more concerned about blowin’ your cover?” 

Geto sighs, looking physically tired of your shit. “This isn’t about our cover. It’s about keepin’ us safe and alive until it’s the right time to pounce.” 

“This is the right time!” you argue, standing up from the couch. “What other time do we have to wait?” The duo just stare at you, neither one backing down from their decision. You simmer, angered at them. 

“Maybe I was wrong about y’all,” you hiss. “Fine, since y’all wanna be pussies about it, then I’ll go myself.” 

You begin to stalk towards the door, but Gojo gets up and blocks you from going any further. “No, you’re not,” he sternly says. He looks strange without that usual, gigawatt smile on his face. Scary, even. His blue eyes look like ice to you, making you feel like you’ve been dipped in a pool in the Arctic. 

But the stubborn, bratty bitch in you just scowls up at him. “And who the fuck is gonna stop me?” you frigidly ask. Before he can answer, you push past him and continue to walk towards the door. 

You barely make it to the knob when you suddenly feel something tighten around your midsection. You look down, finding a leather whip wrapped tight around you. “Hey, let me go!” you snap, pulling at the whip. “Dammit, Gojo, I said let me go!” 

Gojo just stands there, holding onto the whip with one hand, watching as you struggle. “Nah, I think I’m gonna leave ya there to think about your bratty behavior.” He yanks on the whip, causing you to forcefully be jerked toward him. You try to dig your heels into the floor, but it’s no use. He’s just too strong. 

“Satoru,” Geto firmly says. He stands from the couch, fists clenched. “Let her go.” 

Gojo scowls at him, but releases you anyway. You stagger away from him, finally feeling like you can breathe. Geto strides over to you and stands in the middle of you and Gojo, not wanting the suite to turn into a battlefield…but it already has. 

“Let’s just calm down, okay?” he suggests, collected and composed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but this is the way it has to be for right now. We’ll find out where Benji is headed next and go from there, but for now, let’s just relax and get some rest.” 

He tries to take your hand, but you flinch away from him and storm off to your bedroom to get the rest he speaks of. But you can’t get rest, especially when night falls. You toss and turn, haunted by vengeance, leaving you hotblooded and your pistol hand itching. 

When you rise from your bed in your PJs, Geto and Gojo have already gone to bed, their door cracked and the sound of Gojo snoring is heard throughout the suite. 

You slip into your purple dress and heels from earlier, make your hair look presentable, and slip on your leather jacket. Once you’re dressed, you add your accessories: a gold necklace, bracelets, a knife in a garter belt strapped to your thigh, and a pistol that you slip into your purse. 

You don’t bother leaving a note. You know that the boys will know where you’ve gone. So you slip out the suite, locking it, and down the quiet hallway to the elevators. You don’t turn back. You’re afraid that if you do, you’ll rethink this and decide to stay. So when the elevators ding, you walk in and head to the lobby. 

Once the doors open, you give the doormen a nod as you head outside into the summer night. Reneigh is waiting for you along with Geto and Gojo’s Broncos, all of them chuffling when she sees you. You pet Reneigh’s nose and untie her before hiking your dress up and mounting her, feeling weird without your riding boots and pants. 

You learned so much about them like how Geto is afraid of leeches after he got lost in a swamp one time or how Gojo does great impressions. You also learned that while Gojo is a funny and sleepy drunk, Geto is looser, wanting to dance and sing. He has a beautiful voice, silky and deep. He sang while Gojo tried to force you to dance, pulling on your hands. 

After you expressed to them your tragic past, Gojo and Geto made it their mission to take your mind off of it and make you smile. At one point, Gojo with his cheeks a cute pink from the alcohol whispered to you, “Y’know, you have a nice smile. Happiness looks good on you, sugar.” You had flushed and felt butterflies that you passed off as effects of the booze. 

But it didn’t give you a buzz like the duo did. For once, you felt happy. Under the starry sky in the sweet summer air among the fireflies and good company, you felt like you could touch the moon. And when you finally passed out with the duo after the night ended, you didn’t wake up from night terrors. You realize now for the second time since you met Geto and Gojo, you haven’t had a single nightmare. 

Maybe…could this be…because of them? 

You turn and look down at Geto sleeping beside you. He is curled up beside you under a blanket, his black hair and lashes streaked with light from the sun. He looks so serene and beautiful. You flush at the sight, feeling like you’re invading something private. 

You don’t see Gojo, but you figure he’s out scavenging or taking a walk. Deciding to fully wake up and take a stretch, you need something other than breakfast this morning: you need a bath. So you quietly leave Geto to sleep and head up to the hot spring. The pool of bubbling, steaming water surrounded by rocks and wildflowers looks appetizing to you…including the man already in it. 

You don’t expect to see Gojo already there, naked and leaning against the rocks, his toned arms tossed over the rocks and his head leaned back. You startle, immediately covering your mouth in shock. “Oh, my God!” you gasp. 

The snow-haired outlaw tilts his head forward to see you and smiles. “Sorry,” he chuckles. “Did I scare ya?” 

You blink at him, forcing yourself to look at his face and not at his toned pecs, pink nipples, or down below at the water where you’re sure he’s pantsless. You instead look at his hands which you realize now you’ve never seen out of their gloves before. 

His fingers are long, perfect for piano playing, and his knuckle on his right hand is tatted with a rose. You feel a cold shiver run through you as you stare at it. You don't know why. Have you seen this symbol before? 

“I-I didn’t know the hot spring was occupied already,” you stutter, looking away. You feel like a pervert and you feel stupid for it. You’ve seen plenty of men naked before! Why is he so different? “Sorry. I’ll just wait.” 

You begin to turn and hurry away, heart pounding wildly. “Why?” he asks, sounding baffled by the idea. “There’s plenty of pool to go around! …Or are you repulsed by me?” 

You turn around, taking the bait. “No, I’m not!” you scoff, flushing with embarrassment. “I just don’t want to bathe with a naked guy that I just…” 

When you see him begin to laugh, you roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you huff, irked. Gojo smiles at you, his blue eyes mischievous and playful. “I just like seein’ ya flustered. It’s cute.” 

Once again, you turn away and start to walk. “Aww, c’mon, little miss, don’t be like that!” he whines. “It’s just a little fun between friends. Ain’t we friends?” 

You stop and side-eye him. “I don’t know,” you shoot back. “Are we? And even friends can still have privacy. You’re still a very naked guy and us bein’ “friends” don’t change that.” 

You honestly don’t even know if you are friends. Your heart says yes after last night, but your mind is still confused. You still want to run and protect yourself. Not realizing your internal conflict, Gojo rolls his eyes. “Well, if you’re gonna have your panties in a bunch over this, I’ll be riiiight over here.” 

He scoots over to the far other side of the pool, yards away from your spot.  “See? Now you’ve got your space. I’ll even turn around so you can’t see me…unless ya want to.” His pink lips curl into a flirty smile, making liquid heat pool into your core. “Ya like what you see, little darlin’?” he purrs, his gaze seductive and hooded. 

“Not in you're life,” you huff, making him give a big, bellied laugh. You kick off your boots and socks, edge up to the pool, and hesitantly dip a toe into the water. Sensing your hesitation, Gojo turns around and begins washing his back with homemade soap. You appreciate that. Quickly, you strip off your clothes and place your gun on a nearby rock at arm’s reach. 

Then you slip into the water, sighing as soon as the warm liquid hits your skin. Once in, he turns back around. “Need any soap?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no, instead tossing you the bar over the water. You catch it, emitting an impressed whistle from him, and just awkwardly sit there, your chest and bottom half submerged in the steamy water. 

Gojo goes back to closing his eyes and relaxing, so you take that time to wash up. You wash your body slowly, lathering yourself up in the rosemary-scented soap and warm water. It’s such a pleasure and a privilege to do so. Silence falls among you, comfortable yet awkward. Should you talk? It feels weird to just sit in such silence after last night. 

“I-I wanted to thank you for listenin’ to me last night,” you awkwardly say, the words foreign on your tongue. 

Gojo opens his eyes and looks briefly confused, but then you see the lightbulb flicker. “Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he chuckles. “I could tell ya needed to get that off your chest as we all sometimes need to.” 

You smile, glad that he’s not making a big deal out of it. You begin to wash your neck but stop when you pass the scar under your neck and you see those blue eyes watching you. “It’s from an outlaw I had trouble with,” you explain, self-conscious. 

But Gojo, ever the sweetheart, shakes his head. “It’s okay to show me your scars, y’know,” he chuckles. “I think they’re hot.” 

You laugh, taken aback by the compliment but also put at ease. “You’d be the first,” you murmur. The many men you’ve come across don’t like women scarred up, but you have them. Physically and emotionally. 

Suddenly, Gojo slides up against the rocks, enough to give you a peak of his lower torso. You want to ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing until you see the long, puffy, pink scar trailing from his hip to his ribcage. “Damn,” you gasp to yourself, not realizing that Gojo is watching you watch him. 

“Got shanked by Benji back when I was workin’ with him,” he explains. “He was upset with my quota of money brought in from doin’ his dirty work.” He grazes his fingers against the scar. “Never truly healed.” You can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s just as self-conscious as you are. You wonder if Geto has any scars too. 

“I think a tattoo would look sick there,” you comment. He snorts, nodding in agreement. “Geto thinks so too. Maybe someday.” Curiously, he nods at you. “You got any ink on ya?” 

You turn, showing him the pink flower tatted on your right backbone. “Just here,” you say, pointing at the tattoo. “An orchard, my birth mom’s favorite flower.” 

You can feel Gojo’s eyes on you, making you feel like you’ve been dowsed in flames. “It’s beautiful,” he softly says, so genuine that it makes you burn. 

You turn back around, suddenly shy beneath his gaze and the comfort you feel from him and Geto. “I have to say, I never saw any of this comin’,” you giggle, more to yourself than to him. “I mean, just three days ago, I was fixin’ to kill you two and now we–” 

You pause, suddenly aware that Gojo is moving closer to you. You instinctively move back until you’re trapped between him and the rocks. “W-What are you doin’?” you demand, trying to move away from him. 

He stops you, putting his arms on either side of you. “Don’t move,” he whispers, his tone firm. “Just follow my lead.” And then his lips are on yours. 

You’ve never been kissed in such a way. You’ve kissed many men in your lifetime, but none of them were as memorable or as mindblowing as this one. Even Eren’s. Gojo’s kiss is passionate, sweet, and–oh, my God–electric. His pillowy-soft lips coax you to kiss him back until your mouths are moving as one. His hand moves to caress your cheek, his thumb softly stroking your skin as his tongue gently slides against your bottom lip. 

You slightly part your lips, allowing him access to you. His tongue slips inside of your mouth and swirls with yours, his lips still dancing passionately with yours. You can feel your body instinctively moving closer to his, though your hands stay at your sides. Between your thighs, you throb, wanting more of him. Your hands tentatively move up to touch him, feeling him against you. 

But before you can though, he immediately pulls away and quickly yanks you behind him. You can’t even ask him what the hell he’s doing because he’s picking up your pistol and pulling the trigger three times, aiming up at a mountain peak. 

“What the fuck?!” you snap, angered, but that’s before you look up to where Gojo is aiming. There, on one of the mountaintops towering over the hot spring, is a man. A man in black who clutches his chest and tumbles over the mountainside, his hat and gun tumbling in the wind alongside him. 

As soon as he does, you see heads sprout like weeds out of the mountains. At least twelve of them popping out from behind trees and rocks. Nothing but black hats, jackets, and gun barrels pointed straight at you and Gojo. 

An ambush, you realize. You’re being ambushed. 

“Duck!” Gojo shouts, immediately covering you as a spray of bullets begins to explode from the mountains. 

You both crouch in the water beneath the rocks, bullets zipping past you to sink into the water and the grass surrounding the pool. Gojo keeps you trapped under the rocks until the bullets finally stop flying for a moment. “We need to get outta here!” you yell, pulling Gojo along to the edge of the pool. 

He stops you, giving you a firm look. “You get dressed and wake Geto up,” he orders. “I’ll hold ‘em off.” As fast as you can, you throw on the first thing you see–Geto’s denim jacket–and pull on your boots before Gojo gets out of the water butt-naked and starts shooting. 

Once the bullets start flying again, you quickly take cover between the trees and hurry down the cliffside, nearly sliding all the way down to Geto…who is still asleep. You pounce on him, shaking him awake. “Geto, wake up!” you shout. 

The long-haired outlaw immediately leaps from his sleeping bag and rolls on top to straddle you, his gun at your temple and a dark, menacing look in his eyes. Not at all like the Geto you’ve grown to know. 

When he realizes it’s you and not someone trying to off him, he immediately gets off of you only to duck as a bullet zips past him into a tree, spooking the horses. He takes your hand and drags you with him for cover. “What the hell is goin’ on?” he demands, pulling you behind a large rock. 

You cringe at the sound of the whinnying horses and explosion of bullets from the mountaintops. “We’re bein’ ambushed,” you pant. “Gojo and I were in the pool and–” 

“Gojo and you were in the pool?” he interrupts, blinking at you. “Is that my jacket?” 

“Focus!” you snap. “He saved me from a bullet to the back of the head. I don’t know who these guys are, but it’s clear that they’re after us.” 

Slowly, you peek behind the rock just as another bullet flies past you and lands near the soup pot. You see a man behind a tree near the hotspring, Gojo nowhere to be found. “There!” you call, pointing at the shooter. 

Geto turns and looks just as the shooter gets ready to reload. “Stay down,” he orders, his voice deep and on the hint of a growl, as he slips his gun out of his holster. He begins to shoot and you turn away, already knowing that Geto will hit his target. 

As you do, you see something. Something glittering from between the trees, yards away from the horses: the barrel of a rifle. “Geto, look out!” you shout, quickly knocking him out of the way. You immediately aim for his attacker and shoot twice, smoke exploding from your pistol. You hear a grunt and the rifle drops. 

You look down at Geto once the shock has subsided.  “You okay?” you worriedly ask, staring down at him underneath you. The handsome outlaw stares up at you, his eyes shining in the sunlight. “I definitely am now,” he murmurs. 

Though he isn’t touching you, you feel as if he has just run his hands all over you. You know realize that all you’re wearing under his jacket are your panties that rub against the belt buckle of his jeans as you straddle him. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, soft, pink, and parted deliciously for you. You could lean down and kiss him now if you wanted to.

A pained, gargled groan stops you from possibly doing something that you’ll regret later. Quickly, you jump off of Geto and creep towards the shooter now lying faceup in the forest, his gun lying beside him. Blood blossoms from his chest and lower abdomen, the red liquid dripping out of his mouth. 

You cringe at the sight, feeling bad while also considering that he tried to kill Geto. Slowly, Geto kneels down beside the dying man and takes his limp right hand into his, taking off his glove. There, on his knuckles, is a black rose tattoo. “That’s Benji’s symbol,” Geto states, narrowing his eyes at the tattoo. “These are his men.” 

He takes off his own riding glove and sure enough, the same rose tattoo sits on his right hand. You think back to Gojo’s rose tattoo and that same icy shiver runs through you and your head throbs. Where have you seen this tattoo before? 

Before you can wonder about this any further, Gojo is zooming past you in his clothes and boots, hauling his white ass to his horse. “We need to get the fuck outta here!” he screams. “Grab whatever you can and let’s bounce!” You now realize that the gun explosions from the mountaintops have stopped, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more.