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fushipurro · 4 hours

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Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter 4 - Black Star

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, cowboy!au, gangs, gun violence, graphic depictions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol, creampie, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, biting

☆ Word Count: 6.9k (tehe)

A lot’s changed since you were last in Manzanita Post some years ago. What was once a one stop shop for hunting supplies has evolved into several storefronts, a couple homes, a dozen tents, and even a train station to increase foot traffic.

To reach Blackwater from Valentine, you inevitably had to pass through Tall Trees. You considered ignoring the fork in the road ─ one that takes you to either the post or the plains ─ to get to Kento sooner but ended up deciding on a quick trip down memory lane instead.

And a good decision that was; one you’ll realize in due time.

The general store in town happens to be where your father had met your mother. The business belonged to her family after all; at least… it did back then.

After some time spent perusing the store, running your fingers along the dusted shelves, you leave with your satchel full, stepping out into the midday sun. The redwood trees offer plenty of shade, but not enough to cover all of the sun’s golden warmth.

There’s an acrid smell in the air as soon as you step out, one with traces of metal mixed with harsh vapors ─ blood and smoke. The man responsible is more than aware of your presence.

His familiar green eyes already locked onto your form, all in that same midnight leather outfit. He smirks when you finally catch his gaze.

“We meet again I see, and so soon too,” he purrs, a laugh rumbling from deep in his chest. “You followin’ me, sweetheart?”

You huff, almost caught off by his amusement. Satoru claimed him to be a grouch, but all you see is a flirt. “Could say the same to you, Outlaw Killer.”

“Are you making a confession? I’d remember any wanted posters with your pretty face on ‘em,” he says with full confidence. You gotta give him credit for being bold, any woman would feel red in the face hearing that.

“Then you must not have seen today’s paper,” you tease, though really, it’s just an attempt at getting on equal footing. He’s got the looks, now you just need to see the personality.

“Do they even have it up to date this far in the woods?”

“Touché, but you came here for a reason, didn’t you?” you muse, quirking a brow as you shift your balance to one foot. “If not me, then what’s the reason?”

He takes a drag of his cigarette then turns his head upwards, exhaling into the light. “I go where there’s money, simple as that.”

A reasonable answer, one you can relate to in your own journey.

“Can’t imagine there’s much of that out here for you compared to Valentine,” you remark. If he wanted a job, that’s gonna be the place.

Tall Trees has never been the most hospitable of places to settle down in. Many try, but having run-ins with bears on your way to and from the outhouse each day doesn’t make for a quality stay. Unless you’re a hunter, and a brave one at that, this is not the place for you.

“Check again, cowgirl.” The man taps the back of his hand against a sheet of paper nailed to the shop’s log exterior ─ a wanted poster. “I think I’ll do just fine out here.”

Your curiosity grows, wondering what sort of outlaw is here of all places. Posters like these are few and far throughout the years in Manzanita Post, for the same reason as the lack of housing. Stepping closer, you now realize why there’s a need for such a thing here.

The outlaw wanted ─ dead or alive ─ is none other than the man who killed your parents.

You expect murder to be reason warranting this, but instead, it’s robbery. Just robbery.

The poster lists how he and his gang have been ambushing traders in the area, holding them at gunpoint for their supplies.

Why isn’t it murder though? You can’t honestly believe everyone’s unaware or has forgotten what this man did to your family. Since coming here, you’ve already seen some remnants of your mother’s side or family friends ─ one of which is taking care of your mares at the moment. But all it took was for one rich city-slicker to get robbed before the world started causing a fuss.

How aggravating.

“Someone you know?” he asks, all signs of romantic intent faded from his expression, replaced with his own budding curiosity.

“What makes you say that?” you snap, a certain hostility lacing your tone.

“Your face,” he says, gesturing with his cigarette. He appears unbothered by your slight outburst. “Could kill a man with those looks.”

If anyone’s getting killed today, it’s going to be that man. He deserves a fate worse than sitting behind bars in a city jail. A fate you can grant him.

You don’t reply to the bounty hunter though, merely turning on your heel in the direction of your horses. Leaves and twigs snap harshly with every step taken, fueled by an ignited rage.

The cowboy snuffs his cigarette beneath his steel toe boot, deciding to follow after you. He doesn’t have to ask where you’re going; the answer is obvious, and he wants in on the fun. You’ve barely make it out onto the road west of the post before he’s already at your side atop his steed.

“Mind if I join ya?” He grins, eagerness evident in his features.

You spare him a passing glance before looking back ahead.

“Do what you want.”

And so he does.

Toji, ends up proving to be refreshing company in a forest full of distant memories, aged like the trees themselves. Along the way, he recounts many tales of his previous hunts to you, all to help lighten the mood. Some are humorous, and others downright gloating, but you appreciate the distraction, nonetheless.

One such tale is about a guy who thought the best place he could lay low from the law would be some slippery rocks besides a stream of rapids. Needless to say, when coming face to face with someone as intimidating as Toji, the guy tried to flee, only to trip and fall into the current. It would’ve been funny had it not been a bounty where the reward would only come if they were still breathing upon return.

This went on for another dozen tales, all until arriving at the edge of Aurora Basin. And unlike the trading post, the lake hasn’t changed one bit.

On the far side along the shore, the cabin you called home still rests, nearly untouched save for nature’s reclaim. The afternoon sun makes it appear glowing in a thin sheet of gold; rays of light reflecting off the surface of calm waves and glass windows. In the distance, an elk can be heard and seen calling out for its herd. A bull and some cows, a few calves mixed in.

A family.

You wonder if the wolf dubbed Lobo still prowls these grand sequoias with his own pack. They no longer have the threat of humans mingling around their watering hole to worry. Not since the day you left these woods and into the frontier.

“Anything interesting?” Toji inquires, calling you back from your youthful reverie.

You take a moment to breathe in the familiar air that tickles your lungs with frostbite, shaking your head in response to the man. “Nah… just admiring the view is all.”

He hums, and although he’s unconvinced by your answer, he doesn’t push.

The remainder of the ride through the mountain pass is quiet, leaving you to ruminate your memories a little while longer.

You’ve spent enough time out here with all of Tall Trees as your backyard of play. You practically have a name for every tree and animal you’ve come across in your youth, all of which are now just a bitter reminder of what once was. You were born into this forest; it was your whole life. But for your father, it was an escape.

The gang he ran with originally was settled in the deserts down south, but he came here in search of a different life, separate from all the needless killings and petty thievery. He found that, and everything else he dreamt about having.

His biggest mistake however was thinking he could walk away from his past like nothing ever happened and believe there would be no repercussions.

Like many others in the growing world, the gang you’re hunting followed your father north for a fresh start as well. In doing so, they made their claim through the only way they know how.

Bloodshed.

“Hold up,” Toji suddenly says, drawing your focus. You turn to him as he’s already pulled a pair of binoculars from his bag, looking intently at something in the distance. “There’s a sniper up ahead in a lookout post.” He offers you his binoculars to confirm, and sure enough, you recognize the armed outlaw.

“Looks like we’re here,” you tell him, handing him back his gear.

Toji leans forward in the saddle over crossed arms, angling his head to look at you. “What is here, exactly?”

“Cochinay ─ the hideout of our target.” You move Valentine off the trail and into the undergrowth for cover. “We should go on foot from here on out,” you add, dismounting with your Springfield rifle in hand.

Toji hitches his black stallion ─ Blackjack ─ to a tree close by. “I get it’s none of my business and all but seeing as we’re fixin’ to bust through the doors of their camp, you might want to tell me a little more on what you know.”

Sadly, he’s got a point.

Your past isn’t something you often share, especially with someone you only recently met. Satoru was an exception ─ a brief glimpse at the overall picture of your youth. But this? This is where your old self died, marking the birth of the you from today. It would be wise to at least give Toji something to work with. And so, you sigh, and begin to tell him.

“I’ve got some history with this gang,” you start, moving stealthily through the shrubbery on your approach to the camp. “My father was a longtime member, he was born into their way of living.”

“Guessin’ that’s where you got the nerve to charge into an outlaw camp twice now including this?” His words referencing Suguru and his gang. You glance back over your shoulder, seeing the knowing smirk on his face. “What, don’t look surprised,” he laughs quietly, “I wouldn’t be a very good bounty hunter if I didn’t have eyes on everything goin’ on, now would I?”

Rolling your eyes, you press on, creeping closer to your destination. A wooden wall comes into view ─ high and spiked at the top. It wouldn’t surprise you to find some carcasses staked and on display as a warning to anyone who comes too close.

“Everything I am is because of my parents, not some degenerate group whose only motivation is liquor or gold,” you scoff. “Outlaws or not, I was raised to not back down.”

“So what happened to them?” His questions stops you dead in your tracks. Toji moves to your side to get a better look at you, your head hanging low, with eyes glued to some hummingbird sage at your feet. You reach out to said petals, the violet color meshing with the shadows and fading sunlight.

“That man on the poster.” You pause, drifting your gaze from the flower to Toji as a breeze kicks up, taking some of those very petals away and into the air. “He killed them.”

“I see,” he replies, offering no consoling words after. You’re glad, because what good would they do now? It’s neither the time nor place, and the memories you have are just that.

Memories.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Life will always go on and all you can do is ride it out like a rodeo bronc, hoping that in time, everything will calm.

“You here for revenge then? I’ll warn you now, that can get pretty messy if you’re not careful.”

“Something like that, but don’t worry about me.” You end the discussion before he can say more by moving up along the wall.

He snorts though, continuing to follow. “Didn’t say I would,” Toji mumbles under his breath. Really, he doesn’t think he has to, given your headstrong attitude. So long as your arrogance doesn’t get in the way ─ you should be just fine.

You end up finding a section of the wall where the wood is rotted, or chewed away, enough so that it can be removed with ease, making for a silent entry. It’s funny how common of a theme this is becoming. Do these gangs not pay attention to their security? Even on the inside, the grass is kept tall with a plethora of barrels and wagons that are perfect to hide behind.

The camp itself is divided on the inside into multiple sections. With steep mountains resting on either side, any efforts to scale around would be futile. The only way to the heart of said mountains is through two sets of gates, the first of which has a pair of guards on sentry duty.

The only way to reach your goal is to go in guns blazing.

“Cover me while I handle the guards?” Toji requests, as if reading your mind. You respond with slight nod of your head, readying your rifle. “Best not to stray far once we make ourselves known.”

“Don’t go running in front of my sights now,” you tease, and he laughs one final time before his expression turns serious.

Toji sneaks around in front of you, inching closer to the gate. Once far enough away, you let a sigh when you know he can’t hear. It’s easy to feel safe in a camp of outlaws when your partner is coined the outlaw killer, but you can’t forget that you’re up against the man that shattered your family. One mistake, and you’ll be joining them six feet under, assuming they were ever buried to begin with.

“Howdy gentlemen.” Toji stalks up to the men seemingly without a care, tipping his hat all the while. One hand remains hooked on his belt, close to the iron at his hips.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the guards questions, not waiting for his response as his finger meets the trigger of his rifle.

Too slow. The bullet from yours whistles past Toji and into the outlaw’s skull. Their body collapsing with a heavy thump.

“Intru–“

The other guard’s cry for help is silenced midway by a blow from Toji’s revolver. Either way, there was never a need to make the announcement, not when the sound of gunfire is echoing against the canyon walls.

From there, everything quickly turns to a blur fueled by adrenaline. With a revolver in one hand, and a sawed off in the other, Toji unleashes hell upon the camp while you snipe from afar.

The gate to the second area opens, cueing the arrival of a dozen more outlaws, completely underestimating what they’re up against. Their screams are nightmarish, as if met by Death himself, dressed head to toe in black leather stained in crimson tones.

Toji’s downright sinister smile never falters while reveling in the carnage crafted by his own making. It evokes a primal feeling from within watching one man inflict such destruction upon those who upended your life.

“Move up!” he shouts to you, stepping past bodies into the next section of camp. More outlaws await, fixing to meet their final breaths with an anguishing cry.

In your haste to keep up, you fail to notice one of the cowards slipping close to the wall as you enter. They grab your ankle unexpectantly, forcing you down and into the dirt. The outlaw kicks your rifle away, pinning your body down with their knee at the small of your back.

This position makes it near impossible to fight back, and your mind starts to race with thoughts and memories, flashing before your eyes. What a pathetic way this would be to meet your demise, and at the hands of some lowlife no less. For a split second, you wonder whether you should keep squirming or let the inevitable come sooner.

You wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

You may even see your family sooner, contrary to the brave front you always have up.

No sooner do you feel their grip loosening, on top of something wet hitting your back like rainfall. A long, serrated hunting knife falls dangerously close before your face. It’s blade and handle coated in fresh blood.

“Get up!” You hear Toji’s voice shouting at you.

Using the newfound freedom, you take the bloodied handle, curling your body around before snapping your arm to the side without any hesitation, slicing the outlaw’s throat. They cry painfully before meeting their end, choking on their own blood.

Toji rushes over, pulling you up by your arm. “Why didn’t you yell for me?” he says, his voice tinged with subtle anger, like a scolding parent. Another outlaw tries to take advantage of this reprieve but is quickly met with the barrel of Toji’s shotgun point blank between their eyes.

Another one down.

“It doesn’t matter,” you claim, picking your rifle back up. He doesn’t buy it, still giving you that disapproving stare.

“Stick close, I mean it,” he warns, waving his finger at you. His tone leaves no room to argue either.

You throw your rifle over your shoulder, swapping it out for dual revolvers prime for close combat. With your backs together, the two of you shoot all who dare to come close, sometimes maneuvering your arms around the other like a ballroom dance. Bullets fly all around, making you duck and twirl, spinning as one with elaborate footing.

“Cover me, will ya?” you call out over the gunfire into Toji’s ears. He responds by picking up his pace, refusing to let any threats near while you turn to an ole reliable from out of your satchel. Dynamite.

It’s not often you get the chance to use some explosives, especially without any drawbacks. You more than happily light it up before tossing it towards the innermost gate.

The blast ruptures, collapsing the gate and one of the guard towers as well. Pieces of the fence go flying in all directions, one even impaling another outlaw in the chest before your bullet could fire.

It takes a minute before the smoke clears, finally allowing you to see into the heart of the camp ─ seeing him as you do.

The bounty’s face is twisted with displeasure, knowing full well the dire state he’s in. It’s only a matter of time before his life and all his claims are forfeit to the one he took it all away from.

You pull up your rifle once again, aiming down the sights at his sorry face. Realization dawns on him the moment he meets your eyes through the scope, and right as you fire, he bolts down into a cave.

“Shit,” you hiss, abandoning Toji’s side to take pursuit. He shouts for you again, but his voice is clouded by the bloodlust you feel with your prey before you.

This isn’t your first time up in Cochinay, so you know full well the many tunnels feeding through the mountains. While they most likely provide shelter for the gang, they also offer a means of escape if need be.

You can’t let him get away.

With that said, you know exactly which paths to take to catch up. The bastard never even bothered to learn the best route to escape you soon realize. He was far too confident that nothing could take him down.

Big mistake.

It’s ironic how he took your father from you before your very own eyes, and then your mother’s soon after. Yet now, in the face of the one who got away, all he can feel is fear.

If your father is watching past the clouds in the skies, he’d be proud to know how far you’ve come and how close you are to avenging him. He raised you to outshine him in every way, and with this ─ you’ll finally have closure.

You fire a warning shot past the outlaw’s head and into the rocky formation.

“Turn around,” you demand, your voice cold as the ice clinging to these very mountaintops.

He does so, his voice quivering as he yells, “You can’t kill me!”

You kiss your teeth. “The hell I can.”

“You ran when I gutted your parents; I’m not afraid of you!” A lie, evident in his demeanor that’s starting to crack under the pressure.

“And yet you’re doing the same,” you scoff, further adding a manic laugh ─ Sukuna’s influence, taking hold. “The difference between you and me is that I never ran because I was scared.”

“Liar,” he spits, but you ignore him to continue.

“I ran to live another day. To roam this beautiful earth doing damn well what I please because I’m free!” You pause, taking aim with your gun. “You won’t be taking anything else from me.”

“Watch me.”

He moves to draw his gun from his hip, but you’re faster. You’ve always been faster.

Click.

Widened eyes and a look of shock replaces your features. You’re out of ammo.

That moment of weakness is enough for the outlaw to fire his own round, and it hits ─ igniting your arm with fiery pain.

“Got you now, bitch!” He charges at you and grapples your waist, sending you down into the cold stone, hard. The force knocks the wind right out of you, but you can’t lose yourself now. You got lucky with his mistake, but the next will cost your life if you don’t start fighting back.

You’ve angered him with your words, and now he wants you to suffer.

He has you on the defensive against his blows, pounding at you with his fists. “I’m not afraid of you!” he shouts between his onslaught, one landing right over your injured arm, raised as a shield. “I’ve been running this gang since before you were born. I can always rebuild and conquer again!”

He poses his fist high in the air to strengthen the next blow, and in your weakening state, you’re not sure you’d be able to handle it.

“Give your father my regards,” he says with finality, only for that very hand to rupture at the sound of thunder rocking the mountain in turn. You lift your head up to see Toji ─ a rolling block rifle in his hands, giving you the opening needed to finish this once and for all.

You reach for the gun still bound to the outlaw’s holster, turning it on him. “Won’t have to… because you’ll be seeing him first,” you chuckle, pulling the trigger.

As it turns out, this revolver belonged to your father. A fitting way to take revenge.

The tunnel is painted red with your words, sealing the outlaw’s fate. His limp body falls forward overtop your own, the light gone from his eyes. Toji rushes over, easily lifting the dead weight from you.

“What did I say about sticking close?” he scolds, offering you a hand to lift you up. “Could’ve gotten yourself killed; you know that? Unbelievable.”

“You sound like my dad,” you tell him while laughing before he flicks you on the forehead.

Looking down at his future paycheck, he sighs, but then cracks a smile that shows nothing but joy.

“You did it, cowgirl. How’re ya feelin’?”

“Relieved,” you say; relief from knowing the cause for your traumatic past is lying in a pool of his own blood at your feet. “Although I did get shot,” you add. The way you say that makes it sound like it’s a daily occurrence.

He flicks you again for that.

“Come on,” he drawls with a hefty sigh. “Let’s go raid their shit so we can patch you up.”

The moon is high in the sky as you sit along the edge of a wagon, an oil lantern providing enough light for Toji to work. Thanks to the bastard’s shaky hands, the bullet missed its mark, narrowly grazing your arm instead of anything important. You’ll live, but you need a few stitches to close the wound.

“Gonna tell me now what you was going on in your head?”

“I don’t know what you mea– ow, watch it!” You wince when he tugs the thread a little too hard.

He mumbles a haphazard apology. “Don’t play dumb with me ‘cause I know you’re not. Twice today you could’ve gotten yourself killed.” He sounds annoyed telling you all this, but it’s coming a place of worry, whether you believe it or not.

“I’m not used to relying on others,” you admit after a minute of silence, taking a shot of some liquor to dull the pain in your arm and soul. As expected, this camp is riddled with various bottles and supplies ─ all free for the taking now.

“You don’t say,” he teases, and you shoot him a glare that he laughs off.

The next several minutes are spent in silence, admiring his handiwork. The needle and thread appear comically small in his hands, yet he offers a delicate touch. It’s safe to say this isn’t the first time he’s had to stitch up a wound, and you appreciate not having to do it yourself.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve learned not to rely on anyone either,” he tells you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. The flame of the lantern burns bright in his eyes, reflecting amber tones mixed in a forest of green.

“I’m starting to get the feeling you have your own troubled past,” you muse, hissing at the final few tugs of the stitching.

“You don’t say,” he says again, that flirtatious tone from earlier returning. The gruffness of his voice ─ so close to your body ─ has your eyes fluttering back. His body being the only source of heat amidst the chilling air of the nighttime hours makes you wish to be closer, to embrace that heat.

He wraps a bandage nice and snug around your arm, dropping his hands to either side of your body, effectively caging you. You could shuffle away as there’s nothing but empty space behind you, but why leave the fire for the cold, when you instead could stoke the flames?

“Was there something else you wanted to say?” you ask in sultry tune, turning your head slightly to the side.

Toji moves closer, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second. His nose brushes against your neck, shamelessly taking in your scent. One hand moves up your arm, lingering on the side of your head, supporting its weight for better access.

“No,” he whispers against your ear, relishing in sound that involuntarily leaves your lips. So sensitive, he thinks to himself, and oh how he’s going to enjoy that soon. “There’s somethin’ I’d like to do though.”

Your hand comes up to meet his chest, bundling the fabric and urging him down to you. “Yeah?” you whisper back into his ear, smiling against his skin. “And what would that be?”

He chuckles, pulling back to see the look on your face when he tells you. You can see the desire building in his eyes, the lids half-narrowed, ready to swallow you whole into oblivion.

“You.”

You take your hand away from his chest, moving slowly down until reaching his belt, grinning all the while. “Well, aren’t you bold? I can’t say I’m not thinking the same way.”

Toji holds your wrist securely in his hand, pulling it further down his body. He pleasingly groans when you comply by palming him over his dark denim jeans. He lets go of your wrist in exchange for your head, clumping your hair together and fervently directing your lips to his.

It’s a heated exchange, but not the ravenous sort with tongue and teeth mangling together. In return, he bruises your lips with power hungry kisses ─ frenzied with passion and longing. His other hand lowers itself near the apex of your thigh, the tightness of his grip changing with the pressure of your hand against his core.

He's huge, that much is certain. What a lucky girl you are to keep finding such delectable men in only a few days time.

Finally, he lets go of your mouth, allowing you the chance to breathe in shared air. “Take it out.” His voice is deepened and straining, with a sense of underlying urgency.

While you’re messing with his belt, he looks down on with a sinful stare, treasuring the near desperation in how fast you’re trying to get to him. Your reaction to its size is priceless, a sight that never disappoints, and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“My turn,” is all he says before his hands are on you. You hope the sound of fabric ripping is all in your hand, or maybe a twig snapping in the distance (it’s not).

The two of you then share a moment of reverence for the other, tracing each other’s body and sex as if committing to memory a divine work of art.

“So pretty,” he praises, trailing a finger between your folds. “And so wet for me, too,” he sighs breathily, eyes fluttering shut when you let out another angelic sound.

You place your hand back around his cock, feeling his hip stutter in response, rutting once into your hand. Using his free hand to balance himself, Toji descends again upon your lips kissing more sloppily with the growing ecstasy. He throws his head back when you tease the spot just under the tip before throwing himself back onto you ─ swallowing up every whimper and moan when his finger finally pushes its way through.

His finger ─ thick and calloused ─ curls inwards over that sweet spongy spot, forcing your back into an arch, demanding you to ride his knuckles for more.

“Toji,” you mewl with an air of arousal peaking; a plead, for him.

He adds another finger making you gasp in response, and he uses this opportunity to dip his tongue far into your mouth. The flavor is intoxicating, an unhealthy mix of aged rum meeting his preferred brand of cigarettes ─ the ones with the series of cards to collect.

Gambling was always one of his favorite hobbies, and he’s glad to have gone all-in on you. For once, it worked in his favor, and now you’re coming undone by the very hands dealing the cards to win.

Your hands start to shake when he adds a third finger, stretching you out from the inside while rolling a thumb along your clit. Your grip around him quivers, drawing out a resounding groan. Despite how big and intimidating he is, it all ends the same when they’re wrapped around your finger. Needy, and with such pretty noises that are music to your ears.

The kiss breaks, but only enough to breathe while your tongues remain tied together for a few seconds longer. He presses his forehead to yours, pupils blown, staring right into yours. Beads of sweat fall along your cheeks, cooling your heated skin. The alcohol in your system works not only to numb any pain but also to help enrapture your body, flushing your cheeks a cardinal tone.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he asks, curling his fingers again making your whole body twitch. His cock does the same, leaking heavily with beads of cum. You can feel his veins practically beating at the same pace of your heart.

“Fuck ─ I could ask you the same thing.”

“Go on then,” he chuckles, trying to hide how shaken up he is. You hardly need to do much of anything with your hand as he starts jerking himself on you without shame. His lips return to your ear, biting at the lobe when he whispers, “Cum for me.”

Your jaw falls slack with the euphoric feeling. Your body spasming around his fingers, clenching with no remorse for his trapped fingers. With that, Toji can’t hold himself back from letting lose onto your hand, spilling out a heavy load of white.

The stars overhead are but a blur to you now in your high, a mere backdrop to the heaven on earth feeling coursing through each of your veins.

He pulls back from your body, grinning when he hears you whining at the loss. The real show has yet to even begin, this foreplay merely the opening act for a night to remember.

You watch as he takes those same three fingers, wet with slick, and runs them each into his mouth. His eyes closing with a heavy sigh as he indulges in your taste.

“Mhmm, so sweet.” He drinks up your reddened look, another spark of arousal hitting you at the sight of his joy.

You can’t help but do the same when you notice the mess in your hand ─ raising it up so you too can partake in this flavorful exchange.

That grin on his face grows even wider than before. “Beautiful,” he praises breathlessly. “Now come here.” He beckons you by curling those same fingers that were inches inside you mere moments ago.

Effortlessly, Toji lifts you up and off the wagon, leaving behind the only source of light as he walks you to some bedrolls he laid out earlier in anticipation of spending the night.

He kisses you gently this time ─ the calm before the storm about to come. While doing so, he removes the remainder of your clothes thus freeing your chest to his eyes. You do the same for him, one button at a time until all that’s left is the statue of a god, adorned with many scars that map history across flesh.

Another moment of reverence, from one godlike figure to another.

“Turn around. On your knees.” He watches you wordlessly obey, shifting himself behind you. With two hands on either side of your hips, he raises you up into his full view. The sight of your cunt glistening with fluid is captivating, inducing a sense of frenzy.

He kisses you there first, then draws a stripe with his tongue before burying it between the velvet lining. A prelude for what’s to come, once he’s quenched his thirst. You can almost cum again just from that, but he stops just in time to keep you riled up.

“Just fuck me already, Toji,” you say, a mix of warning and urgency on your tongue.

His palm meets the globe of your ass, not enough to hurt, but enough to be known and shock your body. “And how do you ask?”

“Please?” you reply, matching his mocking tone.

“Good girl.”

Next thing you know, his tip is hot against you, rubbing loosely between your folds. You jolt when it grazes your clit, groaning with anticipation. But before you can utter another word ─ another plead ─ he bullies his way inside, stretching you more than his fingers possibly could.

A burning pain hits you from the sudden intrusion. “Fuck!”

“There, there,” he coos, one thumb over your clit. “You wanted me, so take it.”

He watches with marvel at how his cock disappears into your cunt, his whole body shuddering in reaction.

“’S too much, Toji.” Hell, he and Sukuna are in their own tier when it comes to size.

“Shh, you’re almost there, sweetheart.” He grunts feeling you tighten around him, so eager to please and be praised. “I could get used to this.”

A few moments are all you get to steady yourself before he’s moving. His hands gliding along every curve, mark, and dimple gracing your back, tracing up your spine and back around to your hips. As his pace increases, so do his sounds. Each thrust is accompanied with deep, heavy sighs and salacious groans.

“You like this, huh?” His words barely register in your ears, too drunk off the way his cock hits your cervix with each thrust. He leans down, hunching over your back while at the same time snaking an arm around to your front. “What h-hahppened to your words, sweets?” A whimper catches in his throat. “Where’s that pretty voice callin’ my name?”

“Toji!” You cry out feeling his sharp, wolfish fangs burying themselves in your neck. One hand holding you at your stomach right over where his tip reaches, and the other loosely around your throat in a show of a dominance.

“What was that?” He sneers against your ear, his breathing growing more erratic by the second. “Gotta speak up and tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you moan, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth.

“Who?”

“Y-you ─ Toji.” Another moan, higher pitched than before.

“Again,” he growls.

“Toji, Toji, ‘Oji-ahh!”

You keel over in his hold, violently shaking as an orgasm tears through your body like lightning. Wetness gushes out from you, rolling down your thighs and onto his lap.

“So fucking good ─ shit.” His arms tighten and he leans his weight further into you, pushing your body into the bedroll with only one thought in his mind. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?” He moves the hand on your stomach down to your clit, inciting the bundle of nerves with rough circular motions that serve to overstimulate you. “You’d like that?”

“Yes, yes! Please!” you whine as he forces you straight into another orgasm. With how sensitive you are, all coherent thoughts are erased except for Toji, Toji, Toji. In this pursuit of pleasure, he’s all that matters.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, his voice straining, “Now take it!”

With one final cry of his name, warmth floods your body. Your nails dig into the sheets, uncontrollably squirming in a puddle of drool, cum, and slick. For a moment, you think you may have even passed out, because next thing you know, you’re on your side still wrapped in Toji’s embrace. His cock still several inches deep, with no apparent hurry to pull out.

The two of you lay like this for some time, coming down from the high mountaintops of euphoria. Black and white spots in your vision slowly morphing back into stars and the picturesque view of the Milky Way galaxy watching over you both. No words need to be shared. This is all you desire.

You never thought that one out of blue trip to a town like Valentine could jumpstart a whole new chapter in your life, subsequently closing the pages of old, tossing it to the flames. You never outright planned on taking revenge on the man who tore apart your family, but knowing you were there to see him crumble in his final moments brings a sense of tranquility you haven’t felt for some time.

Wherever you go from here, you know that it’ll work out. The future is in your hands ─ a frontier of its own, now ready to be explored without regret.

You wake the next morning to Toji brewing a pitcher of coffee over the campfire. He hears you stirring from sleep, turning his gaze to yours with a content smile. There’s no arrogance or lustful feature ─ only a type of calm you see best at dawn.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

“Morning,” you respond with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Your voice is both thick with sleep and hoarse from screaming one man’s name a dozen times over.

He chuckles amusingly, pouring you a fresh hot cup. “Sleep well?”

Well, besides the whole-body ache… “Like a baby,” you tease. It’s a miracle your stitches didn’t open up once.

You take your time to enjoy the coffee and the morning view. Dawn always looked best up in these mountains with the cascading trees and fields of sage. If you close your eyes, you can hear all the familiar calls of birds and other wildlife mingling ─ the forest teeming with life at every inch.

“When we get his body back to town, that reward money’s all yours,” he says, while standing to stretch his limbs.

You shake your head. “Don’t bother, I got my revenge. That’s all I really wanted.”

Toji can’t be too upset at your words, it’s more money for him. He was already going to happily sell whatever he could find in all these dead outlaws’ pockets for his efforts, anyways.

“Ain’t that a shame.” He places a hand on his hip, green eyes cast down at your form.

“You know, we make a good team,” he starts up again after a brief minute of silence. “You ever thought about becoming a full-time bounty hunter?”

He flashes that devious smile of his once more, his sharp canines poking through when he curls that scarred lip upwards.

“Not a bad offer,” you hum, “Especially after last night.”

It’s honestly a thought you’ve had from time to time. There are always outlaws to hunt and money to make; you’ve done it before and if yesterday proved anything, it’s that you can handle yourself even when pitted against an entire gang.

As it stands, there are several options open to you now, with many possibilities for how life will unfold from here on out.

“So what do you say, cowgirl?”

☆ Notes: I’d like to thank past me for coming up with the dad lore in earlier chapters on the spot, because I honestly didn’t expect to make it a whole theme for this chapter until I started writing it. Gonna be sad though seeing this series end soon, but I’ve got a dozen more stories I plan on writing, and I’m always open for more cowboy content in the future :)

Also, just to throw in my own little headcanon with the forehead flicking and all… you always see Megumi smacking Yuji or whoever when he’s scolding, and I like to imagine he got that from Toji or maybe even Mamaguro since Toji’s strong enough to take it (not in the domestic violence sense, but you know what I mean?)

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #jjk au #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x female reader #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #cowboy!au #toji x y/n

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basilone · 10 hours

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'Stairs' and 'homecoming' for Benny? Juno xx

Thank you for sending me this one! 💙Like we talked about when you first sent me this, this one is set post-war... Benny's homecoming, of a sort, as seen through someone else's eyes. 😉

where the heart is

Her linen skirt fans out over the stairs, obscuring its dark wood with shades of sand and dust. The little half moons of red carpet dig between her toes as she seats herself instead of walking on them. It’s sturdy carpet, almost stiff beneath her feet, that does nothing to soften the wood’s hardness.

Darlene sighs a little to herself. Leans back until the next stair lies hard against her back, steadying the low ache that’s been settling near her hips. Leans back on her elbows, even, as though she is sunning herself somewhere warm instead of indoors in misty Chicago. This is as far as she dares go in this house that’s not her own: halfway up the stairs, close to the kitchen, with another adopted stray for company.

“D��ya think she’ll smack Benny with that same spoon she was stirring with?”

“Depends,” hums Darlene, frowning a little at Stella Lombardi’s bright smile. The dark-haired woman is wobbling back and forth on the stairs in front of her, arms spread ballerina-wide, seemingly unperturbed by the noises down below. “If he gives her enough lip, maybe,” she allows, “but Ben’s always said he don’t dare do that to his mama.”

“I don’t think Mrs DeMarco is that scary.”

“You’re a Lombardi. Ain’t a thing in the world that’s scary to the likes of you.”

“There’s plenty, Darlene,” says Stella, sighing as she gives up her balancing act. “Going home wasn’t easy. Thought they wouldn’t let me out of the house anymore, but Gianluca said they can’t expect me to fall in line anymore.” Gianluca, Darlene remembers, is the eldest of the Lombardi children. Head of the family now, or so it appears. “A lot of the guys daddy thought I’d be a good marrying type for have died overseas, you know,” adds Stella, “so there’s hardly an argument against Bill and me tying the knot.”

“Does William know you’ve been talkin’ about that?”

“I’ve been hinting. Strongly.”

“Maybe ya should ask him.”

“That what you did with Benny? Ask him?”

Darlene snorts out a laugh. “Didn’t need ta do any o’ that. Boy’s been talkin’ about marryin’ me since the day we met, if Gale’s to be believed.” She thinks she can trust Gale Cleven’s word on anything, because he’s the honest sort of man who’d sooner keep silent than lie. “He’s been askin’ for a long time. Didn’t believe him, at first.” Warmth fans out into her cheeks. “I think I started to believe him right before they all crashed, ya know?”

“Not a lot of marrying you can do in a prison camp.” Stella’s arms come up to hug her knees as she gazes at Darlene. “I remember him talking about wanting to marry you, right before. Thought that was why you and Lottie had that almighty fight once Buck and him both went down.” A shadow crosses Stella’s face as the sitting room door below clicks shut. “You made it look so complicated. This falling in love thing.”

“Everything around it was, sure. But falling in love with Benny?” Darlene shakes her head. Smiles. “Easiest I ever did. Getting engaged in Italy was long overdue after all that.”

“Getting pregnant in Italy was long overdue, too,” smirks Stella, nodding at Darlene’s slightly rounded belly. “Max and me had a whole bet going about it, because you two kept disappearing in England too many times. Thought you’d run out of rubbers or something.”

“You’re kiddin’, right? With all of Dougie’s stash right there?”

“Fair point,” giggles Stella. “Think I won the bet. Max… Max doesn’t know that yet. But she’s gonna.”

Darlene’s hand squeezes Stella’s knee a moment. “Do you know where she is?”

“Nah. Not yet. Been waiting for Brady to write me back, maybe he knows. Think that’s the dumbest fucking thing about this homecoming business, though. Everybody disappearing. Marrying. Getting babies without us knowing it. Rosie said that Ham’s wife is pregnant now, and Jean Crosby’s been talking about another baby, and… I don’t know. It’s just weird.”

“Suddenly we’re back to being from everywhere.”

“Yeah. You think you’re gonna go home?”

“What, to Georgia?”

Stella nods. “Go see Lottie?”

“Lottie ain’t home to me no more,” sighs Darlene, feeling the old familiar twist in her belly at the thought. “Don’t even know if she went there. She might be in Wyoming. You said…”

“Her and Buck.”

“Yeah. I ain’t going to Georgia for my family, Frosty. You and Benny and this damn baby are all I got.”

“And the rest of us in the DeMarco clan, too,” pipes up a new voice as a soda bottle is proffered through the stair’s balusters. “Here, take it, I’ve got two more.” It’s one of Benny’s cousins – Aradia? Darlene thinks it might be – waving another bottle through as Stella takes the first. Darlene’s hand locks around the new bottle. “There you go. Bernardo’s in there telling his mama about your family right now. Makes sense you wouldn’t go out to see them.”

“What else are they saying?” asks Stella with interest, leaning forward.

Aradia sighs. “His mama’s a little snippy about the order in which he’s doing things.” Dark eyes peer up at Darlene inquisitively as Benny’s cousin rounds the staircase. “Having lots of sex before getting engaged, having a baby before marriage, gallivanting around Italy before coming home at all… I mean, I get it, Ricardo and I didn’t do things the Catholic way either,” snorts Aradia out, seating herself on the stairs below, “but Bernardo’s never been this damn crazy about a girl at all. It’s even worse that they can’t find fault in you. Think they’re gonna adopt you if Bernardo doesn’t marry you.”

“Plenty o’ fault in me,” refutes Darlene, blushing crimson. “Just what in the blazes is he tellin’ his mama? Can’t make out a damn word of what they’re sayin’ in there.” All that she can hear are muffled voices, raised just enough to not have every word be audible. “D’ya think I should…?”

“What, walk in and see the minefield?”

“Yeah?”

“Operation Rescue Benny,” laughs Stella.

“That boy hardly needs saving. Last I heard, she was telling him he’d better treat you right or else,” says Aradia, waving a lofty hand. “Something about giving you whatever you need. I walked out into the sitting room when he was telling them how much he loves you. Ricardo only says that about me when he’s drunk off his ass, and here Bernardo is…”

“I love Darlene so much, I am going to marry Darlene,” giggles Stella, “Darlene’s the prettiest, do you know how smart Darlene is, Darlene made this drawing, Darlene painted my plane, Darlene said I look good in red, Darlene Darlene Darlene…”

“Shut up!”

“No, but Lombardi’s got a point,” nods Aradia.

“Stella,” says Stella, extending a hand for Aradia to shake. “And I know what you mean, Bill doesn’t talk like that about me either.”

“Yeah? William was telling Rosie how much he likes you,” smiles Darlene, waving some cool into her heated cheeks with her hand. “Heard it myself. Waxin’ with poetry about you, he was. Said he was going to miss you, Frosty.”

“Frosty?”

“Crew nickname.”

“Right,” nods Aradia, “women flying combat…”

“Not your cuppa?” asks Darlene, seeing the slight wrinkle to Aradia’s nose. “Stella was real good at it. Lead bombardier alongside James Douglass, yeah? Ain’t a drop she can’t do. Lots of them women were aces at what they did.”

“I’d be scared of going down. Being in that camp, like Bernardo was…”

“You’re never alone, though.” Stella’s smile is minuscule, but it’s present all the same. “The guys would never have let us be on our own. And if you die in the sky, you’re carried by them. In their hearts and all.”

“D-Did anyone…?”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna talk about that, but yeah. Some of them died. Some of them were in camp with Benny. I got lucky, being in England, never going –”

Stella’s last words are drowned out by the slam of a door.

“You okay, Bernardo?”

“Ben?” asks Darlene, spotting a slightly balled fist out of the corner of her eye. “You all right?”

“Dia, go see mama,” says Benny, jerking his head at the kitchen as he gestures at Aradia. “She’s asking for you. Something about the wedding. I don’t fucking know.” He sighs. “The hell are you all sitting on the stairs for?”

“Thought we could listen in,” smirks Stella.

“I needed somewhere to sit,” corrects Darlene, groaning as she extends her legs. “Our baby’s fucking with my innards, Ben,” she announces. “Gonna be the size of a whale if this keeps up.”

“Prettiest whale in the world,” chuckles Benny, dodging a slap to his head from Aradia while she shuffles past him to the kitchen. “Mama’s fussing about you not fitting into a wedding dress. Papa’s saying he can make you one, if you want.”

“Wh… Ben…?” She swallows tears that are swimming in her eyes. “He… He said that?”

“Yeah. A DeMarco bride’s gotta look the part, right? I told him you might not want white, so you should probably… I don’t know… talk to him at dinner or something.”

“In your earshot? I think not,” she sniffles, brushing a stray tear off her cheek. “I got a dress already. Might need altering unless we marry tomorrow.”

“We could.”

“Fuck that, I haven’t got a dress for that yet,” snaps Stella, looking back and forth between them. “You are not getting married without the rest of us there to see it, you hear me? I won’t let you.” She rises to her feet. Draws herself up to her rather unimpressive height. “Little sister veto, mio fratello,” she comments archly to Benny as he ascends the stairs. “Gonna tell your mama we need to invite the crew, and Kenny, and Rosie, and Bucky and George, and –”

“Jesus Christ,” mouths Darlene as Stella rushes down the stairs and almost flies into the kitchen. She groans as the full extent of potential wedding guests begins to reel around in her brain. “So much for a small wedding, huh?”

“Italian weddings are never small, love.” Benny’s eyes crinkle as he sinks down on the stairs beside her. “Most you can hope for is that Dia stops mama from inviting the extended family. Sorry.”

“Ya don’t sound too apologetic ’bout that, Ben.”

“I like telling people I love you.”

“Oh, do ya?”

“Sure do,” he smiles, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Crazy about you. And about our baby.”

Darlene chuckles. Drops her head onto his shoulder. “Sorry I made ya come home with little pregnant me for company, Ben. Woulda been easier for ya if that wasn’t the case.”

“What, the family? If they wouldn’t bitch about that, they’d have complained about the lack of letters or the crash or the camp or flying in a warzone or me bringing a Lombardi into the house or about Cannoli…”

“Your mama loves Cannoli,” murmurs Darlene, remembering how the woman had instantly doted on one of Meatball’s puppies. “But I hear ya. It’s different from my family, ’s all. Mine woulda chucked you outta the house and kicked me down with ya the second they saw my big belly. Keep… Keep thinkin’ yours should. Except they won’t.”

“Because they’re not assholes,” snorts Benny out irreverently, pulling her close to him. “And you look like a million bucks, Mrs DeMarco,” he whispers, kissing her cheek a second time. “Like one of those paintings you love so much.”

Her cheeks flame again. “Don’t say that!”

“Tough,” he grins, “already did.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you love me.”

“And I love ya,” she sighs, squeezing his hand. “So damn much.”

#masters of the air #mota #mota fic #mota oc #bernard demarco #oc: darlene #oc: stella #basilonewriting

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