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042502 · 1 day

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𔓕 ່ ⃝⃝🧡 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐎 : 𓈒 𝇋♡︎𝇌

ೀ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Random situations of Chris being your boyfriend.

ೀ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. Mentions of sexual relations, insults, established relationship, appearances by Nick and Matt, video format, daily life.

ೀ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. I don't speak English. The truth is that I wrote this with loose ideas, maybe we will have a second part, I don't know. I leave you a link below in case you liked what you read 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

WHEN THEY LEAVE THE SHOPPING HE WOULD CARRY YOUR BAG.

"You look great" Chris looks at Matt and blows him a kiss.

“Thank you sweetie” Chris makes a silly pose with your bag.

"You're so gay," Nick scoffs.

"Stop shaking my bag" You ask your boyfriend.

HE LOVES THAT YOU CARESS HIS HAIR. AND YOU HAVE USED THIS TO YOUR ADVANTAGE MANY TIMES.

"Chris!!" You approach him jumping happily.

"Before you speak: no, I don't have, I don't want to and I can't" he jokes and you make a cute pout.

"I really need it, I've been waiting for this moment all my life" Chris rolls his eyes for a few seconds and you show him the screen of your cell phone.

"That? A concert?" He looks at you and you nod repeatedly, then drop your body onto the couch next to him and snuggle around his arm. while he holds your cell phone by sliding his finger on the screen. "Zayn? Is he giving a concert? I thought he was on his damn farm tending to a potato," he joked.

"He's back and you know how much I want to see him."

"I know, but it's impossible, I have a full agenda. We can see it next year." Chris gives you a kind smile.

"Chris we don't know if he will be back next year! Please!" Chris still refused, you have nothing left but to use your fire tool, Your nails dig into your boyfriend's disheveled hair and you see him close his eyes enjoying the caress.

"We could talk to the boys and go all together, we'll enjoy it" you continue sweetening Chris with your caresses.

"Okay, let's talk to them" upon Chris's approval you stop petting him and run in search of the boys.

HE ALSO ENJOYS RECEIVING AND GIVING YOU MESSAGES ON YOUR FEET.

You may be lying on the couch enjoying a lazy afternoon watching movies on Netflix.

At some point he would leave his feet within reach of your hands and ended up giving him some gentle massages.

HE DOESN'T LIKE SILLY COUPLE NICKNAMES, BUT HE'LL CALL YOU "MA" OR SIMPLY BY YOUR NAME.

"Chris said many, many, many, but exaggeratedly many times" Nick adjusts his glasses "he said many" Chris interrupts him.

"I think it was understood"

"Well, he's said many times that he wouldn't call his future girlfriend stupid nicknames." Chris and Matt understood where Nick was going.

"Yes, yes, yes" Matt sits back in his seat to look at his brothers. "We've heard Chris say many times that he wouldn't use ridiculous nicknames with his girlfriend and he literally now."

"He calls her MA!" Nick shouts and fake laughs.

"It's not ridiculous and it's not like that, it's not stupid" Chris exluss.

"You don't know how funny it is when we wake up and the first thing I hear is saying 'good morning ma' it's so stupid."

"Hey!" Chris shouts.

"You haven't heard anything bad, I heard him talking to her like a baby, Chris sounds something like... Oh, I really need you to give me affection" the three of them burst into a big laugh.

MOSTLY HE IS THE ONE WHO CHOOSES ABOVE ALL, YOU JUST TRUST HIS CHOICE.

"What are you going to order?" Nick asks you as he sticks his head out the window.

"Huh, I don't know... Same as Chris."

"You don't even know what he's going to order." Matt stretches and looks at you in the rearview mirror.

"What are you going to order then Chris?" Nick looks at his brother.

"Pepsi, a double burger, medium fries, you know," he shrugs, before Nick repeats the order and speaks again. "The hamburger should not have onions"

"Since when have you not eaten onion?" Matt asks with a slight frown.

"She doesn't eat onions" he points to the seat behind him, in your direction and you smile.

PHYSICAL CONTACT IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE. ESPECIALLY THE HUGS.

Chris has said that he is not a demonstrative man, but you don't feel that is the case. Every time he can he is adding your hands and playing with your fingers or just giving you little caresses.

"I don't think that's true," says Madi.

"I'm telling you, yes, I read it in the news." Matt moved his fingers over the screen of his cell phone looking for the news he was talking about.

"Check the history," you suggest to Matt..

You had your hands on the table while you were talking animatedly with the boys, Chris was next to you playing with the chain that decorated his left wrist.

"Look there it says clearly" Matt brings his cell phone to his friend showing her the news.

You laughed cheerfully as Chris's hand took one of your hands to play with. You smile and give him a small friendly squeeze, he intertwined your hands, then patted, tried to hold one of your fingers, among other strange things he did.

On other occasions where perhaps he wanted to be more discreet, such as when he was at his parents' house or yours, he just slid his hand under the table and left it on your thighs.

"Your aunt has mentioned countless times that she makes pudding even tastier than mine, can you believe it?" Your mother was talking to you while she was preparing tea to drink.

"That's impossible, I had the pleasure of trying the pudding you made and it is exquisite, there can't be a better one." Chris compliments your mother and she turns to look at him and says "I know" making them both laugh.

Chris's hand sought your touch under the table, leaving his hand on your thigh and then pulling you closer to him to give small squeezes from time to time.

Although he had many signs of physical affection, the one that stood out the most were his beautiful hugs. Chris's hugs were magical, they recharge you with abundant good energy. They make you feel renewed.

"Good morning ma" you hear your boyfriend speaking at your side of the bed.

Your eyes slowly open and you can see him smiling. You push your way through the sheets to be greeted by his arms in a warm embrace.

"Hmh Chris..." You murmur. "I told you that if you are going to sleep without your shirt, cover yourself well with the sheets." the top of his chest was freezing, then you'd have a sick Chris from taking in cold air.

"I'm sorry ma"

Hugs in the morning are essential to have a good start to the day, but they weren't the only ones. While you are preparing something to eat, he hugs you from behind, When you're in the bathroom getting ready, he also gives you your dose of hugs. He's actually very good at giving hugs.

HE HAS NO PROBLEM TELLING YOU HOW HE FEELS ABOUT YOU, HE IS VERY COMMUNICATIVE. EVERYTHING THAT GOES THROUGH HIS HEAD HE LETS YOU KNOW.

"Which of the three do you think is the most sentimental?" Chris read the question for his brother Justin.

"Hmm, none of them are exactly sentimental, but at the same time they are all a little bit."

"I consider it to be me" Nick speaks.

"I'm going to answer that maybe Nick..." He thinks. "Also Chris" looks at his brother.

"Chris?" Matt asks confused.

"Yeah, he's always making a sentimental moment out of nowhere, speaking from his heart and stuff like that. Even lately when his girlfriend is around he's telling her how much he appreciates having her in his life... You know, I don't know if it's because now he has a partner and it makes him twice as sentimental."

"It's true," Nick agrees.

"I, I consider myself to be" Chris brings the microphone closer to his mouth. "I'm actually not ashamed to say how I feel about her in front of someone else, I feel like the fact that I am like that makes our relationship more stable. Because we are very communicative with each other" he explains and his brothers congratulate him on their beautiful relationship.

"Tell him something now," Matt challenges and Chris smiles in amusement.

"Listen, right now I miss you a lot. I really want to see you so I can hug you for a long time and tell me how your day was. Remember that I love you very much and you are the girl of my life" He finishes the message and his brothers applaud excitedly.

HE DOESN'T ADMIT IT BUT HE LIKES IT WHEN YOU STYLE HIS HAIR OR WHEN YOU DO SKINCARE TOGETHER.

"IT'S BURNING ME!!" He screams when I put a mask on his face.

"Chris is a cucumber mask" she adjusted the corners of the mask while he complained.

"Why is yours pink?" He sits down in front of you and you laugh.

"Because it's made of a different material, yours is green" you point out.

"I prefer orange." He takes the comb and runs it through your hair. "Why is your hair straight today?" Chris used a confused tone of voice.

"Apply a product to keep it straight" you explain and he continues running the comb through your long hair.

"It looks good, but I like your naturally curly hair" you smile and break the distance between the two of you by joining your lips.

You take the comb out of his hand and now you are the one combing his hair.

"Will you let me make you a crazy hairstyle?" Chris I agree and you start tying his hair with little rubber bands.

The door to the room opens and you both look in its direction, finding you mother watching.

"You guys look ridiculous" the three of them laugh.

CHRIS IS TOO HARD IN BED, IT'S NOT HIS VANILLA, ROMANTIC STYLE. ALTHOUGH SOMETIMES HE AGREES TO BE IT FOR YOU.

“It’s so boring” Chris pulls his head back to look at you.

His body was lying between your legs, while you were sitting. They were both enjoying a good movie, but then a sex scene comes out.

"They're fucking, what do you mean?" You're mocking.

"That's boring sex," says the screen. "It should be called super boring sex"

"Just because your style of sex is holding me by the hair while you're giving me hard from behind, doesn't mean that that type of sex is fun." He stretched his hair, forcing him to look at me again. He bites his lip.

"I just think our style is a little more interesting” he smiles and you lean in to kiss him.

"You have to admit that sometimes soft sex is nice."

"We never did" you click your tongue denying Chris's words. "We did it?"

"Did you forget?" you pretend to be offended.

"I know, on your birthday. But I just wanted to make you feel more... I don't know, I wanted to be something romantic I guess"

"You were, I didn't expect you to be. I like the surprise" you stroke his hair.

CHRIS IS THE KIND OF BOYFRIEND WHO WANTED TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP SOLELY TO WEAR A MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUME.

"Today we're going to go see our Halloween costumes" Nick speaks excitedly towards the camera in front of him. "We were talking seriously about this, you know, it's very important."

"I still don't know what I want to use." Matt looks at Nick and Nick looks at him seriously. "You're an Idiot"

They arrived at the place and were walking through the hallways full of different costumes. Matt was holding the camera as it focuses on Nick and Chris looking at some.

"It's packed," Chris comments and grabs a crazy hat to put on his head. "I'm kind of excited, I've always wanted to have a girlfriend to wear a complementary type of costume, I think it's actually the only logical reason why I wanted to have one" He takes off his hat and leaves it where he found it.

"Chris has literally said hundreds of times that he didn't want to have a girlfriend, but if he did want one it would be to wear a silly matching suit." Nick adds, still appearing next to Chris.

"It's true" Chris continues looking at the suits. "So today is the day to wear a fun outfit with y/n."

"I hope it's SpongeBob and Patrick" Matt speaks behind the camera and Chris looks at him excitedly.

"Definitely not, they are best friends," says Nick. "It would be weird to see SpongeBob stick his tongue in Patrick's Throat ."

CHRIS LOVES IT WHEN THEY SHOWER TOGETHER.

"No Chris"

"Please, it will be faster if we do it together" Chris begs you.

The situation was the following, you were taking a shower because this afternoon they were going to have a good time at the mini golf. Chris always complains that you take too long in the bathroom, so he says it's much better if you do it together.

Things that you know very well are not like that, they are in the shower even longer if he comes in with you.

"Chris, we really have to get there early," you explain as the hot water slides over your soapy body.

"I just like doing it with you." Chris sits on the toilet seat.

You sigh for a few seconds and agree to let him take a shower with you.

PACIFIERS AREN'T HIS STYLE, BUT LET'S JUST SAY HE SOMETIMES LEAVES SOME BEHIND.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask your boyfriend, who has been staring at you since you got out of the shower.

You walk past him combing your hair. Now you are in front of him waiting for him to answer you.

"It's nothing, I just have a pretty girl by my side" he smiles. "So, who did you say were going to that high school reunion?" You sigh heavily knowing that you had already had this conversation yesterday.

You had a small reunion with your former high school classmates, absolutely everyone would be there. You had mentioned this to your boyfriend and he was not very comfortable with you attending, especially because your ex would be there and he couldn't go since he had to record with his brothers.

They had a little argument about not going and it ended in a lot of heated sex.

"We already talked about this Chris, don't worry. "I'll just have dinner and come back, I won't stay for the party, I'll most likely be here at home when you get back from recording." You give him a quick kiss on the lips.

"It's okay, you look pretty" you model your outfits for him..

"Thank you" you approach the mirror and then you see it, those bruises decorating your neck. You turn around looking at the culprit. "What is this?"

"I didn't do it right, we should do it again" he jokes.

YOU ALWAYS BUY HIM SNACKS SO HE CAN EAT WHEN IT'S TIME TO FILM IN THE CAR.

"We have no topic of conversation in this video..." Matt starts the video talking.

"Yeah, we didn't do our homework this week," Nick continues.

Chris takes a chocolate bar out of his sweatshirt pocket, Matt and Nick look at him and they both extend their hands in Chris' direction.

"Absolutely not, I'm not going to share" he stretches his chocolate away from his brothers.

"Every food that enters this car becomes everyone's food," Nick tells him.

"Y/n bought this one for me" he breaks it up and gives it to his brothers.

"Since when does she buy you candy?" Nick asks, devouring his share of chocolate.

"Since Matt made the chocolate prank on me" Matt laughs at his brother. "Since then she buys me snacks so I can eat during the videos"

"She's so sweet" Nick says. "Y/n would love you even more if you gave me snacks too" he speaks into the camera to send the message to you, he winks and sticks out his tongue.

"Stop flirting with me girl." Chris punches Nick in the arm.

"Ou, ou, ou, Ouch. HEY! STOP! I'M GAY!" Nick shouts.

ೀ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. I hope you like it, thank you for reading, don't leave without first giving me a like and a nice comment. Don't forget to share with your friends! And remember if you want to be part of the taglist to receive a notification every time I publish a fic, ask me in the comments! That's all for now, goodbye! 🤍

ೀ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @luverboychris @l34n @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @adirtylittleheart @ilovechrisssturniolo-deactivate @melonjollyranche @sssoniaswiftt @ecliphttlunar @jetaimevous @khxna @aliceloveschris

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edenesth · 2 days

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[5:45 PM]

'Don't wait up for me! Go home first, Woo. There's food in the fridge.' — future wifey💘

Your boyfriend pouted as he read the text you'd sent him at 5pm. He had arrived at your office building and was waiting at his usual spot when he received your message. Normally, you got off work sharp at 5, but today you seemed overwhelmingly busy. Unlike usual, you hadn't even been very responsive during lunch hour.

Wooyoung glanced up and noticed that the lights in your office were among the few still on. Although it was still early, it was a Friday evening, and most people preferred to leave on time and deal with any leftover work on the following Monday.

How long could she take anyway? I'll wait.

Refusing to go home without you, he patiently waited downstairs, hoping to surprise you when you eventually emerged from the building. His unease grew as he watched more and more people leave, the offices slowly emptying, and the sky darkening, yet there was still no sign of you. There were times when you stayed late at work, but never this late.

Nearly an hour later, he sent you a text to let you know he didn't mind waiting and was still in the same spot, asking how much longer you would be. If you needed more time, he'd go to the nearby café for a drink while waiting. But he frowned when 10 minutes passed, and you hadn't even been online; his message was sent but still unread. The final straw was when his call went unanswered.

Despite feeling panic creep in, he tried to stay calm as he walked into the lobby of your office building. Breathe, Jung Wooyoung, breathe. He tells himself you were probably just really busy. But why? You had told him the peak season ended a week ago, so this should have been a slow week. It didn't make sense that you were working so late now. What weren't you telling him?

Crap, is she cheating on me?

Slapping himself on the cheek, he chastised himself for even entertaining such a thought. You had been nothing but the best and most dedicated girlfriend he'd ever had. How could he think that way about you? Now, he only prayed you were alright. What if something had happened to you? What if you had passed out? What if someone at work was doing something untoward to you? He remembered you mentioning a coworker who persistently pursued you despite knowing you were taken.

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

"Come on, come on, come on!" he muttered through gritted teeth as he watched the elevator numbers climb slowly. He only needed to get to the ninth floor, but the trip had never felt longer. His mind conjured up all sorts of wild scenarios, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He needed to see you right now, to have you safe and sound in front of him so he could be okay again.

Ding!

Before the elevator doors fully opened, he was already dashing out at full speed. The dim, empty reception counter of your department greeted him as he sprinted towards your office—the only place he knew to go. "I'm coming, love. Just wait for me."

He had no idea what to expect as he saw your door open, the light from your room spilling into the dark and silent office. Anxiety flooded him as he braced for the unexpected. And indeed, it was unexpected. His steps faltered as he stopped to catch his breath at the entrance of your office, eyes glued to the sight before him. He didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the extent of his overthinking.

Wooyoung let out a huge sigh of relief, his eyes softening as he took in your petite frame, now slumped over your workdesk, fast asleep amidst piles of documents. The glaring screen of your PC reflected off your glasses, which were crooked on your face as you snored lightly. Your phone, in silent mode, lay beside you.

This explained everything.

Your boyfriend approached you slowly, careful not to wake you yet. With one glance at your computer, he immediately understood why you had been so busy today. Your team leader's emergency leave had left you responsible for a case that ran into some hiccups. Scrolling down the trail of emails, he felt relieved to see that you had eventually solved the issue. The exhaustion must have hit you hard once the adrenaline was gone.

Gently, he removed your glasses from your face, placing them back in their case before running his hand through your hair, tucking loose strands away from your face. Unable to resist, he leaned down to press a lingering kiss onto your temple.

That seemed to have stirred you awake. You emitted a small groan and fluttered your eyes open, prompting him to step back slightly. But you reached out and held onto his shirt.

"Woo? Wh-what are you doing here?"

He shook his head, planting another kiss on your cheek before standing upright, his hands resting on his hips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you sleep in the office, hm? Pack up now, we're going home."

Your heart warmed at his words. Just when you thought it wasn't possible to love him any more, he continued to prove you wrong each time. "Yes, sir."

Despite his directive, he ended up doing all the packing for you as your sleepy form waited by his side. After shutting down your PC, he reached for your bag and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come, let's go."

Suddenly, in the elevator, he found himself wishing the trip would last longer. He pulled your cardigan snugly around you, sliding an arm behind your back and resting his forehead against yours. Admiring the way your sleep-deprived eyes drooped adorably, he grinned softly, biting his lip. His other hand cupped your face as he whispered, "Just hold on a little longer, love. You'll get to rest soon."

You nodded with a pout, and the sight of your tempting pink, soft lips made a sigh escape his mouth. "Good girl," he muttered before leaning in to capture your lips.

His heart skipped a beat when, despite your exhaustion, you responded to his kiss almost instinctively, though a bit more sluggish than usual. His heart swelled with affection at how your body reacted to him, knowing it was only for him. Stroking your cheeks lovingly, he deepened the kiss, only to let out a disappointed whine when the elevator dinged too soon.

You giggled, gently pushing him away. "You know we can continue in the car, right?" His excitement reignited at the suggestion. Insisting he'd help you with your things and settling you in the passenger seat first, he felt his heart flutter as he hurried to the driver's seat. "Alright, where were we?" he asked eagerly, only to find you fast asleep.

Of course, she's asleep. What did I expect?

He chuckled in disbelief, securing your seatbelt and shaking his head in amusement. As he started driving, he slipped his hand into yours, smiling when he felt your fingers unconsciously curling around his.

God, how he loved you.

ATEEZ Masterlist

This is me failing miserably at my "try to stay loyal to Park Seonghwa challenge" because what the hell is Jung Wooyoung so attractive for? The way bro made me write the longest timestamp to date...

Also, guess who clowned herself thinking she could post the first part of Mingi's TWTHH spinoff this weekend?🤡 it's only 1k+ words in so far, I was out all day yesterday and didn't get to write much huhu but hopefully by next week, it'll be out! Hopefully🤞🏻

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #ateez timestamps #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #ateez drabbles #wooyoung drabble #wooyoung fluff #ateez fic #ateez imagines

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vampyshlut · 2 days

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fic sugestion:

okay so maybe sub!pogue rafe turned dom??? reader is mean, bratty and a bully. lets say she bullied him for a few years, tormenting him in highschool constantly. theyre both in college and the reader still is a total bitch to him. theyre at a party, rafe is sick of her ass. somewhere along the lines, he corners her in a bedroom. they fuck and its dirtyyyyy filled w choking, man handling, degradation etc. she looks a mess, makeup smudged, drooling. shes too fucked out to realise hes recording. he posts it the next day as revenge. {bonus points if you make her alt or emo. sorry if its to long. tweak anything you dislike} :)))

okay i love this sm .

major warnings: piss is mentioned, forced drugging, slapping, choking, safeword is in place, saliva, hitting, resistance, unwanted creampie, sex tape, just please read at ur own risk thanks !

made this with @rvfecamerons in mind 🤍

you were a fucking bitch. a kook, goth, bitch. and you loveeeee picking on little rafe cameron. ever since high school, you saw his big frame but fragile self. since day one, you’ve had it out for him.

“rafey, what’s the matter?” you mock as he keeps the tears in his eyes, not daring them to fall. you circle around him and he tries to hide himself. you laugh before kicking him in the back of his leg and he falls forward. you giggle as he goes on his back and backs away from you, you jut out your bottom lip in a mocking way.

you step closer to him and he backs away, again and again. “fucking pussy.” you say and he lets a sob break loose and you snarl at him. rafe whines and you look at him and see his face red. you look down and see him pissing himself. “now that is pathetic.” you laugh and walk off. that was freshman year of high school.

now you’re a junior in college, of course rafe and you go to the same college. he would never be rid of you and your hair, bold eyeliner, ripped fishnets. you would always be there. “ahh, piss boy.” you smirk as you see rafe at the party a frat was hosting. rafe’s jaw clenches at you and your mocking. “shut up.” he says and takes a sip of his beer that was in a solo cup.

you laugh and knock the cup out of his hand. “you’re such a bitch!” he yells out and you flip him off. the night was going well, you were tipsy but not drunk. people all around you were doing cocaine, you never got the hype. rafe was in the living room with baggies of the coke. “still selling like the pogue you are?” you ask him and he doesn’t respond to you.

nobody understood why he didn’t put you in your place. he could easily overpower you, in all honesty, rafe was obsessed with you. he couldn’t get enough of you. even when you were bullying him. rafe watches you as you saunter upstairs.

rafe is on your heel, without you noticing. you stumble into a bedroom and rafe follows you. rafe turns the light on and turn around to see him. “fucking stalker.” you say as you try and push him out. he doesn’t budge and you finally realize after all these years how strong he really is. “get out rafe!” you yell while punching his chest.

he grips your hands and stops you from hitting him anymore. you fight against him with no luck of getting him to budge. “six years. you’ve been bullying me for six years.” rafe says as he walks farther into the bedroom. you back away from him, the tables being turned. you go to apologize to him and he grips your throat. “don’t even think about apologizing.”

you whimper and he smirks. he digs in his pocket and fishes out a bag of cocaine. he lets go of your neck to open the baggie and dip his finger in the substance. you look at him suspiciously and he comes in between your legs. he sets the baggie down on the dresser and grips your cheeks to open your mouth. “no, rafe, please, i didn’t do anything like this to you.” you beg and he smiles before shoving his finger into your mouth and rubbing the cocaine on your gums. you fight against his grip but it’s no use, the cocaine is in your system and you can’t get enough.

you moan out, “yeah, knew you’d like it.” he teases as he does it to you a couple more times. “wanna do a line? see how that feels?” he asks and you hesitate before nodding your head. “ya, good girl.” rafe praises with a light smack on your cheek. rafe dumps the coke out onto the dresser. rafe pats his pockets before realizing he didn’t have a card to fix the line. you reach into your back pocket and pull out your school id. rafe grabs it and fixes three lines. you smile and lean down to sniff a line. he grips the back of your neck stopping you from doing so. “fucking needy ass bitch.” he degrades and keeps you back while doing one line.

rafe brings you to the lines and forces your face down onto the powder. you whine at the pain and pleasure of the hit. rafe brings you back up and throws you onto the bed. you scramble back to the headboard while he prowls closer to you. “all these years, you could’ve easily overpowered me. why now? you’re a fucking pussy, rafe!” you yell as you go to hit him.

he grabs your wrist in a bruising grip, “shut your mouth for once in your life, whore.” he degrades as he throws your arm back and grips your cheeks. “yeah, you need another line.” he determines as your pupils were not dilated enough for his liking. you try and shake your head but rafe already had a scoop of cocaine on his pinky. he shoves the pinky under your nose and you have no choice but to snort it.

“yeah, just like that baby.” he praises and you smile at him. he throws the empty baggie on the floor and leans down to kiss you. you kiss back as the cocaine infiltrates your system even more. “always thought you were too good for me, now look at you.” rafe mocks as he starts to undress you. you whine as you kick against his chest. he laughs while catching your ankles. he drags you to the edge of the bed before pulling his shorts down. you gulp seeing his cock, it was thick. and it was big. so biggggggggg.

“rafe, that’s not gonna fit!” you say as you try and crawl away from him. he scoffs and rolls his eyes. you shake your leg out of his grip and kick him in the face. he stumbles back while gripping his jaw. “always a feisty one.” he smirks and practically pounces on you. his huge body engulfing you. “if you really want me to stop, yell out a color.” you moan at his words. he’s still being a scary bitch but getting consent—somewhat.

when you don’t yell out a color, he continues. he lines his cock up with your entrance. you brace yourself, expecting him to go slowly. you yell out as he slams into you, practically ripping your pussy in half. “rafe!” you yell and reach down to your pussy, it aching of pain. he laughs and thrusts in and out of you. the pain turns into pleasure, but that dull ache was still there. the cocaine, pain, pleasure, and rafe’s big dick stretching you out caused your vision to go blurry. you close your eyes as a big flash comes up from somewhere.

rafe’s cock fills you to the brim, it being seen in your stomach. “yeah, like me fucking you like the whore you really are.” he taunts and you moan in response. “fuckkkk daddyyyyy!” rafe’s laugh echos off the walls at your fucked out state. “oh you are so screwed, fucking slut.” spit comes out of your mouth as the pleasure starts getting too much for you.

“imma cum inside, get you pregnant with my pogue cum.” rafe tells you and you shake your head as you start cumming around his cock. you try and back away from him. he slaps you across the face and grips your neck. your body goes numb as rafe empties his balls into your fertile womb.

“yeah, i just fucked up your whole life.” rafe says before leaving you on the bed.

you woke up in pain. and in a random room. you gather your clothes as you head out and into the outside. you groan at the sunlight but get sobered up from your hangover when people start pointing at you and laughing. “nice movie.” someone says as they walk past you. you look at them in confusion.

“good movie, can i star in the next one?” another guy says and you slap him, “what the fuck are you on about?” you ask him and he smirks.

“your sex tape.”

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cobaltperun · 3 days

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Genius (5) - Supermassive Black Hole

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part

Word count: 4.3k

-I thought I was a fool for no one, ooh baby, I'm a fool for you-

Why did she push you away when you were kids? She thought that would make her parents love her, that being more like them would make them proud of her, make them pay attention to her. Eleven-year-old Cairo wanted their love so desperately she decided to push away what she had to try and obtain what she might get. Why did that… why did that sound familiar all of a sudden?

But she couldn’t tell you any of that, not because she couldn’t admit it to herself, no, she could, she understood why she did it. She didn’t want to admit it to you. Because, sure, she could tell you the reason, but you might ask for more, and then she might have to tell you that you were on her mind all these years. That she missed you so much, that she wanted to see you. And then what? What realization would she have to face if she gave you the answer you sought? So, she remained silent, masking the apology she wanted to utter with defiance in her eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” you gave up, sighing out of frustration and just walked away. You walked away from her this time, and she felt like an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, threatening to pop it like a balloon.

But she didn’t call out to you, she didn’t say anything, she just watched you go.

~X~

She couldn’t focus that night, not on writing, not on anything Winnie was saying, she was just lost in her own thoughts. None of them made sense, there wasn’t any order, or logic to them, they were random, unorganized, and she hated it.

“What’s on your mind?” Winnie’s voice eventually did reach her, not quite piercing through the chaos of thoughts in her head, but it did reach her.

“Nothing,” she sighed, trying to focus on the girl. “Everything. I don’t know,” it felt like her mind was pulling quotes from dozens of books at the same time, mixing them together and creating a mess she couldn’t make sense of.

Winnie pupped the lollipop out of her mouth with a resounding pop. “Is it Mr. Miller? You’ve spent some time with him now, how’s the seduction going?”

Cairo remained silent. A lingering meaningful gaze here, not moving her hand when he occasionally put his hand on it. Leaning in just a bit closer than necessary when he lit her cigarette. It was a dance, on that felt forbidden, and she could see the shift in his own eyes. He was looking at her, nothing vulgar quite yet, but he was looking.

“It’s. going,” she chose not to share more than that, she started it, she wasn’t a coward, she would finish it.

Winnie remained silent. “You don’t look happy about that. Is it Y/N?”

Winnie was being too perceptive, but Cairo imagined she wasn’t doing a good job hiding it, as she felt the corners of her mouth twisting downward at the mention of you.

“Do you like her?” Winnie persisted, getting up from her spot on Cairo’s bed and moving to sit next to her. “Cairo, if you want her you need to stop what you’re doing with Mr. Miller,” she didn’t even wait for confirmation.

“Weren’t you the one talking about wagyu beef? Older men harvesting virginity and all that?” and now she was telling Cairo to give up on Miller and go to you?

Winnie rolled her eyes. “That was different, that was before I realized you had a thing for biker girls,” Winnie tried to joke, to nudge her and get her to laugh or at least smile. “Okay, one biker girl, the point stands, I you want her, like really want her just go for her. Forget wagyu beef.”

Did she want you? Was that what she wanted to turn your relationship into? And if it didn’t work out where would that leave your friendship? Did the fact that he noticed her more than anyone else ever did really mean so little? Now that everything was moving, when all he likely needed was just the right circumstances?

“Cairo, this is changing you,” Winnie kept talking, trying to stop what she set in motion unknowingly filling Cairo’s head with thoughts that weren’t there before, the thoughts of her first time not being painful, the idea that she could get that with someone older, and now she was trying to take it back.

“It is changing me,” she admitted, and she knew she was changing, she had the idea she now desired, a madman’s love, a love so passionate it could not be contained, a love so strong it would bring her to ruin, a love that would eclipse any other she felt or would ever feel.

Winnie grabbed Cairo’s phone and before Cairo could even register what was going on Winnie had unlocked it. “What are you doing?” Cairo demanded, getting up to go after Winnie as she began pacing around the room.

“Getting Y/N’s number.”

“Stop it,” Cairo demanded, grabbing Winnie’s forearm just as she sent the number to herself.

Winnie’s eyes widened and for a moment Cairo wondered how mad did she have to look to make Winnie look at her like she was now. Worried, and even a bit afraid.

“Don’t you dare call or text her,” she ordered, her voice shaking as she did. Winnie couldn’t contact you, she just couldn’t. She wasn’t allowed to.

“Okay, I won’t,” she relented and Cairo finally let go of her forearm and snatched her phone.

Cairo started all of this. She was seducing her teacher. She was going to experience something, she was going to get her madman’s love.

~X~

Another Monday, another shitty way to start your week with Miller’s damn class.

“Censorship creates a vicious cycle, we’re taught from young age to accept certain norms, the rights and wrongs of society. It’s the death of writer’s ideas, and thus the reader’s ideas as well. It’s taking away the freedom of thought and speech,” he droned on, stopping by Cairo, the back of his hand brushing against her arm.

“They are separate,” you spoke without raising your hand, and he took a few steps back to take a look at you.

“Not to a writer, to a writer the thoughts become words on the page, they are given a form, and not in this context. When we are taught from young age how to think it becomes intricately connected to the way we express ourselves,” he explained his reasoning and you felt Cairo’s eyes on you.

“Thoughts are private, we cannot be held accountable for thinking, it is the absolute freedom that cannot be taken away, precisely because no one can be sure of what we think. Speech is, as you said, a thought that’s given a form, written, spoken, or expressed in another way. It is a right, and a responsibility,” you leaned forward, your hands resting on the desk, open, relaxed, you had no need to move them.

“To conform to the norms of society?” he challenged, and you gave him a hollow laugh, turning away from both him and Cairo for a moment.

You looked back at him, eyes filled with fierce defiance. “Please, if that was the case you’d be teaching a much smaller class. The society is meant to be critically observed, changed in response to injustice,” you stated.

“And thus, censorship should be seen as an issue, because it is used to cover the injustices,” Miller leaned back against the table. “Just think of how many women had to publish their works under a pseudonym, or how often works that even implied anything outside of societal norms had to be edited to conform to those norms.”

“You are equating rights of entire groups with ideals of a bygone era?” you raised an eyebrow, hardly believing what you were hearing.

He raised his hand in defense. “Certainly not, but-“ he paused, collecting his thoughts. “But, censoring of those ideals of the, as you said, miss L/N, bygone era, takes away our ability to judge them for ourselves. To start a conversation.”

“So, your idea is mere discussion?” you held back a laugh.

“Of course,” he had the guts to say after how he’s been acting with Cairo.

“Yet every idea, no matter how pure, taken to an extreme can be twisted, corrupted until the very basics of what made it good no longer apply, and such corruption needs to be removed,” you weren’t backing away, you ignored the looks of the handful of students that got interested in the conversation, you ignored Cairo’s piercing gaze.

“Every? Freedom of speech included?” he asked. “It has been said that one man’s vulgarity is another’s lyric. And it is one of the highest forms of hubris to assume one person gets to decide what it right and wrong and enforce it on others,” he crossed his arms over his chest, shielding himself once more.

“You sure you have the right to speak of that? Teacher?” you bit your tongue, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you.

The tension in the classroom rose to nearly unbearable, his defensive posture, his eyes, filled with surprise at being all but accused, wandering from you to Cairo

The bell rang breaking the tension and making the students get up to leave. You collected your things and stepped outside, sighing as you did so.

“Y/N,” a fairly cute, blonde girl you shared a couple more classes with, Emily, called out to you and quickly caught up with you before you could get out of the class. She held a pencil you let her borrow on Friday in her hand. Oh, you actually forgot about it. “Here, thanks again for letting me borrow it,” she smiled a bit shyly at you and tucked a strand of her hair back.

You smiled back and took the pencil. “Don’t mention it, Emily,” you put the pencil inside your bag.

“We’re heading in the same direction, wanna go together?” the girl offered, and you shrugged, seeing no harm in doing so.

“Sure,” she was nice and you had no reason to be hostile toward her.

~X~

“Keep glaring and you’ll make her combust,” Winnie teased as Cairo glared at the girl as she was walking away from the classroom.

“If only,” she grumbled, annoyed. Who did that girl think she was, taking your attention after what happened in the class.

“Cairo, could you come by after classes?” she heard Miller asking once only her and Winnie could hear him.

Cairo looked inside, to where you just sat and narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I made plans,” she decided, she certainly wasn’t in the mood to play any seduction games.

He looked surprised. “Right, of course,” he stammered and Cairo just nodded her goodbye. The blonde girl was no longer in her line of sight when she turned once again.

“You’re so jealous,” Winnie laughed, and that was the last drop, she made her way outside the school, ignoring Winnie’s protests.

She wasn’t jealous. What did she have to be jealous of? A blonde that met you maybe a month ago? As if that could compare to what you and Cairo had. The key word was had, as her brain cruelly reminded her. You no longer had that. Without thinking much, she dropped her things off at her house and went into the forest to clear her mind.

What were you thinking? Speaking like that in the class? What made you speak up for the first time in Miller’s class and well, that was one way to speak up for the first time. Ideals of a bygone era. She figured she was seduced by them. By Winnie’s talk of older man harvesting virginity. It wasn’t just that though. It all went back to madman’s love, for how mad would someone her age have to be to love in such a way.

Was it the way Miller touched her that made you react? It was just a brush of the back of his hand, intentional, no doubt, as it remained there, but by now she was used to the closeness. They sat side by side on the bench smoking, and it was certainly physically closer than just the back of his hand. But it still, maybe set you off, just like his attempt to hold her hand did last week.

And then, as she walked, as she went deeper into the forest, as she went to the exact same place where the rose bush she found all those years ago grew and was crushed was, as she went to the place she didn’t go to in years, she froze. Again. a rose bush. Again, an old tree fallen over it.

It was happening again, the same image, the same scene, the same outcome, haunting her, repeating again and again and driving her into madness. She had no one this time. Not one person who could drag her away. Alone. Meant to be crushed like the lone rose bush in the forest. Meant to be crushed by the old, by her parents, her teachers, her village, suffocating in a place fit only for ghosts, an unforgiving place that refused to let anyone be different. To be crushed by the place she was abandoned in and the people in it.

Her nails dug into the dirt beneath her, and she just now noticed she dropped to her knees down to the harsh forest floor. Maybe she should just stay there. She felt too weak to get up anyway, too dizzy and numb at the same time, her breathing too erratic, uneven, panicked. Yet all she could focus on was the scene that kept repeating.

~X~

You were finally close to the end of Verne’s book, just another ten or so pages, but you felt sleepy, and the rain softly falling wasn’t helping you stay awake. Your phone suddenly buzzed, breaking your concentration and making you groan as you leaned your head back. Whoever was calling you wasn’t giving up, that was for sure. So, to spare both you and the caller you grabbed your phone, noticed it was a number you didn’t recognize, and picked up.

“Hello?” you said.

“Hey, is Cairo with you?” it took you a moment, but you recognized it was Winnie, her voice laced with worry and clearly on the verge of panic.

You immediately sat up. “No. Why?” you asked, you didn’t have a reason to worry just yet. Maybe she just got too into one of her books.

“I’m at her place, it’s unlocked, her bag is here, but she’s nowhere to be found, and we were supposed to hangout tonight," Winnie told you and you could hear her pacing around.

“Okay, okay, just calm down. Let’s just go and look for her, do you want the forest or the village?” you were grabbing your biker jacket, since it was waterproof, as well as the keys of your house and already heading outside.

“The village, and thanks, I appreciate this,” Winnie said.

“Of course. Call if you find her before me,” you said and when she agreed you hung up and tucked your phone into your pocket and ran into the forest. You had to hurry, it was getting dark, and the rain made the ground slippery, the more it took you to cover the forest the higher the chances of getting injured, or plain and simple lost would be. So, you ran, as carefully as you could through the forest, yelling Cairo’s name.

‘Where are you?’ you shouldn’t have parted the way you did. ‘Why can’t you answer your phone?’ you should have tried harder to get to her. ‘Are you okay?’

“Cairo!” you shouted as loud as you possibly could, your yell getting swallowed by the trees and the rain.

Somehow, for the reason you couldn’t explain, you remembered her sob from all those years ago, you remembered that sound, the reason for her sorrow back then, that tree and the bush of wild roses and you just took off, running in that direction as if somehow drawn to that location.

~X~

Her body trembled, physically she felt cold, but deep down she didn’t feel anything. Her body felt like nothing, like the least important part of her, like it no longer mattered what happened to it. Her mind and soul were what was important, and the rain couldn’t hit those. The loneliness did, however. It froze her mind and soul in a way cold rain and the darkness that slowly consumed everything around her could never accomplish.

She desired a madman’s love, the ruins of it, the decay, she desired to be entirely consumed by it, yet here she was, not only without a madman’s love, but without love in general.

“Cairo!” her mind must have been playing tricks with her, she heard you shouting her name, and that just couldn’t be true. Why would you be there?

“Cairo!” this time it was closer, and her eyes widened as she caught glimpse of you in the distance, just narrowly missing her. Another old tree, just waiting to fall between you two.

“Y/N!” she cried out, calling after you and trying to get up, but her legs had gotten too numb to get up so abruptly and she stumbled, digging her palms into the muddy ground beneath her. There was no way you heard her, you were too far, you just narrowly missed her, she was once again too late to reach out to you.

Same mistakes. Same haunting images. Everything was happening again.

“Cairo,” she heard footsteps, running toward her and raised her hand, seeing you, your hair and face wet from the rain, water dripping from your jacket and relief washing over your expression. “Are you okay?” you ran up to her and without a moment of hesitation grabbed her shoulders, pushing her up slightly and looking her over. “Cairo, hey, hey, answer me!” your gloved fingers moved her hair from her face and she couldn’t take it anymore, she just fell into your arms, hugging you and clinging to you. She took several deep breaths, finally feeling like she could properly breathe.

“How did you know?” she asked, judging by how wet your hair was you were out for a while.

“Winnie called me,” you whispered as you softly rubbed circles on her back. “Give me a second,” you pushed her away for a moment and she felt what little warmth she regained fading away. You took your jacket off and put it over her shoulders.

“Y/N, wait,” she tried to argue, she didn’t want to let you get a cold, but you just pressed a finger over her lips.

“Don’t argue. Can you walk?” you asked as you helped her get back on her feet.

Cairo nodded, this was already enough, you were already doing more than she could have asked for, but even as she began walking back home you kept her close, supporting her and holding up some of her weight as she leaned onto you for support.

And then, just as the two of you got twenty feet away from where Cairo was kneeling, a lightning struck the old tree and both of you flinched as it cracked and fell, right to where you and Cairo just were. You just saved her life, because there was no way she would have moved if you didn’t arrive.

She felt you freezing and she wondered what was going through your mind. Did you realize what would have happened to her if you were even a minute late, and in the way you pulled her closer she felt that you did think of that scenario just now. Of finding her underneath a fallen tree.

~X~

You called Winnie to tell her you found Cairo and that you brought her back home as she was taking a warm shower. You considered leaving, but maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Cairo on her own right now, so, you stayed, a towel you borrowed from Cairo hanging from your neck. You needed to change, but you weren’t sure you could go back home and come back here before Cairo was done.

You were waiting in her room and you noticed how much darker it got, less light seeped through the windows than when she was a child. Well, people changed, and you guessed seven years was a long time. As you sat on the chair you brought up from the kitchen and waited you caught sight of a familiar book. ‘Around the World in Eighty Days’ sat on the table next to a book written by Henry Miller, ‘Under the Roofs of Paris’ the duality of those choices didn’t escape you, but you didn’t move, you weren’t about to stoop to Miller’s level and look through Cairo’s stuff.

A few minutes later, she came out, dressed in her pajamas and with a towel around her head. “You should change,” she noticed now that the shower cleared her thoughts a bit. “And take a shower, the rain was dirty,” she said it as if she expected you to do it at her house.

“I will, I just wanted to check if you were okay and I’ll leave,” you told her, already getting up. She looked fine now, but you still looked her over, you didn’t notice anything wrong, any injury or anything that she needed help with.

“Do it here? Please, you were out looking for me, and the rain is falling even harder now,” at least the part about the rain was true, the weather was getting worse. “I’ll find some clothes that fit you,” she promised, and you nodded with a sigh.

“Okay,” you saw her smile and you couldn’t argue anymore.

When you stepped into the shower you just let the water wash over you, to erase the image of the tree falling right where Cairo was, to wash away the worry and fear as you ran through the forest, desperately looking for her. Everything turned out fine, in the end and you found yourself no longer caring about the answer to your question.

It no longer mattered why Cairo pushed you away, what was happening now mattered much more, and you weren’t going to waste it just because she didn’t want to give you your answer.

When you stepped outside in the shirt and trousers she gave you that were a bit too big for her, you saw her already in her bed, and she turned to look at you, her still slightly damp hair sticking to her skin. “Hey, how are you doing?” you approached her and knelt next to her, only now realizing how stupidly tall her bed was.

Cairo looked at your hand, resting on the edge of her bed and then at your eyes. “Better now. Thank you for looking for me.”

You shook your head. “Don’t thank me for that, you asshole. I’ll scold you properly later,” you promised, luring out another smile from her.

“Do you want to read together?” she asked, moving to the side as if offering her bed to you.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision, but you nodded, getting in the bed next to her and getting comfortable as she opened the book that somehow became the most tangible reminder of your past. You settled down and took a deep breath, and you realized your mistake, as Cairo’s scent invaded your senses.

“Can I start?” she asked and you nodded, focusing only on her voice as she began reading the book.

~X~

Cairo woke up around noon, alone in her room, and more importantly, she missed school. Almost two whole days, that was strange for her, yet she doubted anyone would notice. She wondered when you left, well, she woke up when you got up this morning. The two of you fell asleep about two-thirds into the book. Nothing happened during the night, neither of you subconsciously moved like books so often depicted, she didn’t wake up tangled up with you, or holding your hand, or anything. You just happened to sleep three feet apart because her bed was so ridiculously big.

She stretched a bit and got up and as she opened her window she heard a sound she wasn’t used to coming from her backyard. She looked out through the window and saw you moving some pots she didn’t recognize. “Y/N?” she called out and her heart skipped a beat when she saw you looking up.

“Come down here! I want to show you something!” you yelled, a wide grin on your face.

“Give me ten minutes!” she told you and rushed to the bathroom to get ready. She couldn’t remember the last time she rushed this much to get changed and ready for the day, it certainly didn’t happen since she was a child and had all day free to play with you.

She barely even remembered the last time she purposely went to her backyard, yet here she was, walking over to you as you finished whatever you were doing. When she stopped next to you she saw the pots, five of them, filled with earth, and stems from the wild rose bush stuck in them.

“If I did everything correctly at least one should sprout roots,” you said as Cairo, speechless for once, looked between you and the roses. “I noticed the crushed bush, so I went back after getting everything I needed,” you said softly.

Cairo felt a tear sliding down her cheek as she jumped into your arms, ignoring any dirt that may have gotten on you. All the unwanted tension between the two of you seemed to fade away as you got over your surprise and hugged her back.

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy

#cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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gglitch1dd · 18 hours

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Us & You pt 5

DILF Kirishima Eijiro x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Prolife vs Prochoice, friends to enemies to strangers. Katsuki is TRANS!!! (AFAB)

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 3] [AO3 Link] [PART 4]

You sat on the couch with Eijiro, his hand moving up and down your thigh as the both of you watched a movie on the TV. It was just the two of you this afternoon considering Sachiko was gone to stay over at a friend’s house for the day. From what you heard from Sachiko, it was rare for her father to allow her to go over to other people’s houses especially if him or the Kirishimas didn’t know them personally on an intimate level. She had apparently never gone to a sleepover, which after you took some time to think about it, you understood Eijiro’s fears.

She was a young girl, and you knew yourself that sleepovers at friend’s houses, even when you trusted them, was not always safe. Especially if there were adults or older individuals there that you weren’t aware of. You were glad that Eijiro had that rule to protect his daughter.

Eijiro leaned over to kiss your jaw, making you giggle as you were pressed up against his side. He seemed really touchy today. You weren’t sure what it was, but you couldn’t complain. “Eijiro, you aren’t watching the movie.” You reminded him.

“Hm?” He asked as he placed another kiss to your neck. Half of you was sitting on his lap but you felt him pull you more and more on top of him. You giggled at his lack of attention to the movie at all. “I’m more interested in you right now.”

His large hand travelled up your thigh even more, you wore loose shorts today that allowed him to slip his fingers further up your legs. You felt him grab at your skin making you suck in a breath but allow as you turned to look at him. His ruby eyes were half lidded as he looked down at you, focused on your being. You took in a deep breath, your eyes looking him over.

Eijiro was in nothing more than grey sweatpants and was otherwise shirtless, allowing you to freely gaze over the large expanse of his muscles. It was times like this you were reminded of how big your boyfriend was. He was absolutely huge. With broad shoulders and large muscles that were more meant for sweeping you off your feet than anything. You felt so small in his hold, almost dainty. You shifted your legs a bit as you tilted your head up to kiss his lips.

He let out a hum in gratitude, as his hands tightened around your body. His lips quickly moved to dominate yours, pulling you close and keeping you there. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself closer to his body, with a stuttered breath. You felt his sharp teeth nibble on your bottom lip, requesting access. You nodded your head breathlessly, as he easily took that opportunity to devour you.

He easily picked you up and settled you on his lap fully, allowing you to face his body as your thighs rested at either side of him. You ran your hands through his dark black hair making him hum in pleasure at the feeling of your hands on him. One of his hands moved up your body to feel the curvature of your back. You sunk down into his lap but gasp at the feeling.

You separated the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your lips as you looked down to where his tented cock was. You were then reminded of how much you loved his sweatpants. You glanced back up at him, trying to figure out how he was feeling. He nodded his head to you, wanting you to do as you please.

Was this it?

You looked back down at the imprint of his cock. Despite Eijiro being all for your pleasure, and having eaten you out multiple times, you had never actually seen his cock before. All you knew was that by the imprint in his sweats and the feeling of it against you, he was hung. You bit down on your bottom lip as you moved your hand up and down his shaft that seemed to only be growing hard at just your gaze.

Eijiro let out a groan as he felt you grasp his cock with your hand. He tilted his head back as he shifted, you felt him buck his hips just slightly. “Y/N…” He groaned.

You weren’t even paying attention to him as you had all your attention on his sex. He was thick. Really thick. You hadn’t even seen it out of his pants, and you felt a rush of fear go down your spine, but then it was quickly replaced by excitement.

Your hand moved to his waistband but then his phone rang. You turned to it.

“Who is it?” He asked, although you could see it in his eyes that he just wanted you to continue and ignore the phone call.

You reached over and grabbed his phone to see who was calling. Your eyebrows raised. “It’s Misaki’s mom.” You let out softly. Your eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you agreed with her that you’d pick up Sachi at half past four?”

“I did.” He sighed as he sat up. You handed him his phone. “Maybe Sachi isn’t feeling well or something.” He reasoned before picking up the phone. “Kirishima Eijiro speaking.” You refrained from touching him as you stared down at his crotch. You wondered how on earth that happened. You also wondered if this whole exchange meant he was comfortable with sex now? You surely hoped so. “What did you just say…” The low tone immediately snapped you out of your lewd daydreaming as you looked up at Eijiro. He had gone stiff, his eyes wide as his grip on his phone turned tight. You looked at him worried. “How on earth did you manage to lose her?” Your eyes widened at the news. “Well, I don’t care if there were many kids at the park! She’s my only daughter and you lost her!? How long has she been gone?” All you could hear was distressed crying from Misaki’s mom on the other side. You could imagine how scary it must be to lose someone’s kid especially when left in charge of them. You had gone through the same thing when Sachiko disappeared at the family derby event.

You saw Eijiro bring a hand to the bridge of his nose as he took a moment to think. “Okay. Okay. Just breathe. Stay there encase she comes back. I’ll find her.” He put down the phone and you quickly got off of him.

“What happened?” You asked urgently.

Eijiro stood up without hesitation. “Sachiko’s missing.” He told you, moving to head somewhere else in the house. You quickly followed after him. You could tell by his large strides and furrowed eyebrows that he was worried. “She hasn’t been seen in the past twenty minutes.” Eijiro walked into his office and immediately moved to the other side of his desk to where his laptop is.

“So how are we going to find her?”

Eijiro switched on his laptop and quickly signed in. “I’m going to track her.” He answered simply.

“You have a tracker on Sachi?” You asked surprised.

“No, her watch has a tracker that just so happens to be on Sachi.” He stated nonchalantly as if that wasn’t the exact same thing. He opened up a little app that looked more like a gaming app than anything. Suddenly a little icon appeared that said “Sachiko” with a baby photo of her. She had cute chubby cheeks with wide eyes with beautiful lashes, she was made out of chubby little rolls as she sat on the ground looking at the camera. You would have wanted to coo at it all day but there were more pressing matters. Soon the page turned into a map of your city and a little icon appeared on the other side of the city. Eijiro’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the location, she was in. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

Eijiro hesitated. “How did she get all the way there?” He asked his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “If she was taken, she would have hit the panic button that’s attached to her watch. I don’t know how she got there.” He motioned to the map.

You moved to zoom in to the map. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that the Bakugou building?” You asked as you pointed to where her little icon was. “What would she be doing there?” You turned to look at Eijiro. The large man had frozen in his seat, fear in his eyes as his pupils shrank. He looked to you, asking a silent question that you almost instantly picked up on. You stood up straight. “She can’t know, and I doubt he would want to see her.”

“Then why is she there?”

Kirishima Sachiko held the straps of her small backpack as she walked through the hallways of the Bakugou building. She followed the group of children around her age that were there for modelling clothes for the brand. She was silent as she spectated everything around her, certain marks that she would use to remember her way out.

She felt bad for having to leave Misaki but her friend understood what she was trying to do. She had to be quick. In and out. Then she could head back to the park or back home. She knew her father would most probably be angry at her, but this was one thing she had to do by herself, cause she knew he would never allow or tell her otherwise.

Sachiko turned to the elevator, just managing to disappear away from the group as she clicked the second highest floor. She wasn’t too far away from the top so it wouldn’t be a long ride. Once the elevator gave out a sound, she stepped out and walked straight to the desk infront of a set of doors. It seemed to be a secretary’s desk.

Sachiko walked over to the secretary who looked up from his laptop. His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Hello little girl. What are you doing here?” He asked surprised as he stood up from his desk to walk over to her. “Did you get lost from the others?”

She shook her head as she gave him a smile. “No. I’m Kirishima Sachiko, I’m here as a representative of the Kirishima Diamond company. My dad said I’m supposed to be part of the photos, but I’m supposed to check in with my uncle Bakugou.” She told him with a soft hiccup. She was glad her father wasn’t here the else he would have known she was lying right out of her front teeth.

The man raised an eyebrow not that convinced. He could admit that she did look like a Kirishima, but she was a kid after all. “Aren’t you a little young to be a representative of a company?”

“I’m just here to see my Uncle Bakugou.” She told him once more.

The tall man sighed as he adjusted his glasses. “Mr Bakugou didn’t tell me he was receiving a guest. But since she was let through…” He grumbled. He moved to the door as he knocked before opening it. “Mr Bakugou, you have a guest here.”

“Who is it?” Sachiko heard a gravelly voice ask from the other side.

The man glanced back at Sachiko before looking back through the door. “A Miss Kirishima Sachiko. Apparently, she was told to check in with you when she got here.”

There was a beat of silence, which made the young eleven year old girl nervous that she might have come all the way here for nothing.

“Send her in.”

The secretary’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but he turned to Sachiko with a smile. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Miss Kirishima. Bakugou-san never wants to see anybody.” He opened the door wider allowing her through.

“Thank you, sir!” She chirped out with a kind smile as she bowed at the waist. She walked into the office, allowing the doors to close behind her.

Sitting at a large desk with a tablet in hand was a man with ashen blond hair and piercing crimson eyes. He lacked facial hair nor was he as big as her father, but he was pretty handsome. There was something about his eyes that were so feline, piercing and almost made her feel like she had done something wrong.

Crimson eyes stared at each other.

Katsuki frowned at the sight of her. She looked like a doll. She stood in a ruffled light blue dress with white stockings and black shoes, with a red backpack. Her hair was cut short, just barely touching her shoulders as she stared back at him with eyes that made Katsuki feel like he was staring into a mirror.

Suddenly he felt sick.

He let out a shaky breath as he put down his tablet. So, it really was her. He had talked to her briefly at the derby, just thinking of her as one other many of the Kirishima children that he probably just didn’t know about. He didn’t think it would actually be it… her. He reached over to the phone on his desk. “Please call Kirishima Eijiro and tell him his daughter is in my office. Allow him clearance up…” Katsuki’s eyebrow raised. “He already called? Huh.” He put down his office phone as he turned to look at the young girl in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. “Your father is looking for you.”

“I figured.” She let out softly, her voice was gentle as she spoke to him. “I’m sorry for the lack of warning Bakugou-san, and good afternoon too.” She bowed at the waist formally, her left hand over her right. Katsuki watched her with a harsh glare. He could see the conservative Japanese upbringing from a mile away. He could see it in her manners and her voice. It was something that he only saw in Eijiro whenever he interacted with elders or people that were not his friends. Formal, proper, rich. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “My name is Kirishima Sachiko, we met at the derby two weeks ago.”

“We did.” Katsuki acknowledged.

“I’m just here to ask you a few questions.” She told him honestly. “If that is alright with you…” Katsuki didn’t say anything or give her a sign, so she continued. “You know my father?” She asked softly.

“I did.”

She hesitated. “You both went to the same university, right? The two of you were close?”

“We were.”

“Then…” She seemed scared to ask her question. Her grip on the straps of her backpack tightened as she tried to keep her composure. “Do you… do you know who my mother is?” She asked softly. “I’ve already tried every one of Daddy’s friends but they won’t tell me.”

So Eijiro really kept his word?

Katsuki was silent for a long while. He sighed. It was better he got this over and done with and was frank with her so that she would leave him alone. He wasn’t sure why ghosts from the past were now suddenly haunting him after nearly twelve years of him being free from this. He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. “You don’t have a mother.” He told her frankly. “But I do know who gave birth to you.”

Her eyes lit up, almost in excitement. Katsuki saw the same expression that Eijiro would make whenever he got excited about something. Katsuki hated that expression on her face. “You do?” She asked, stepping forward. “Do you mind telling me who she is?”

Katsuki moved over to the other side of his desk. He leaned back against the hard wood as he folded his arms. “Not she, he.” He corrected her, making her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Katsuki swallowed down hard, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. Years of trying to erase the very thought of her and her father all gone now that she stood in front of him. “I gave birth to you.” She paused. She blinked twice and tilted her head confused in the same way her father would. God, she was just like him. “I’m transgendered, kiddo. So the bonnet doesn’t really match the engine.” He tried using a euphemism to explain it to her.

She took a moment, nodding her head as she took it in. To Katsuki’s surprise, he didn’t see disgust or anger on her face. She seemed to be taking a moment to think it over in her head. “H-how did that happen?” She asked.

“Me being transgendered? I don’t know, trauma I guess.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his head.

She shook her head. “No, not that. I mean me. How did I happen?”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Your father never told you about the birds and the bees? Or what do they call it? Giving a man your umbrella?”

A soft blush went to her face. “Daddy never told me, but Miss Y/N explained it to me after I got my first period.” She revealed to him.

He raised an eyebrow. She already had her menstrual cycle? Had it been that long? Katsuki sighed, scratching the side of his head. “Well, yah. Birds and bees happen and then you happened. Congratulations.” He spoke monotonously.

“Did… Did you and daddy love each other?” She asked.

Katsuki hesitated. He looked away from her. A red croc key ring sitting on his desk. “In some way or another.” He answered softly.

She took another moment. “So then why… why aren’t you together? Why don’t I have a mom… well… other dad?”

Katsuki didn’t like her questions. He didn’t like her presence here and he didn’t understand why on earth he had to explain this all to her. Clearly, she was here without her father’s permission, and clearly she wanted answers.

If she was old enough to understand birds and bees, she was old enough to hear the truth.

Katsuki sighed, detaching himself of all emotions as he looked to her. “You were a mistake.” That one phrase had the girl freezing. “A reckless mistake Eijiro and I did. We weren’t ready for children, and I certainly did not want a child. Unfortunately, your family doesn’t share my sentiments when it comes to bodily autonomy.” He moved his hands to rest back against his desk. “So your father and I had an agreement and thus you were born and I am to play no part in your life.”

She let out a breath before tilting her head confused. “Bodily a-autonomy?”

“An abortion, kiddo.” He stated it simply. “I’m not sure your father would have allowed you to know what it is, considering how conservative your family is, but it’s when someone doesn’t want a kid and so they get rid of it before the foetus is born. Your father’s family didn’t want that despite what I wanted and thus here you are.”

Sachiko was pale, not a single thought in her head as she tried to digest all of this information. Her eyes dropped to the ground as she swallowed down hard. “So… you never wanted…” She wasn’t sure if she could say it. “B-but I’m your child.” She whispered softly, tears in her eyes. “Every parent should love their children. Don’t… did I not mean anything to you?”

“Oh, you did.” Katsuki acknowledged, nodding his head certain of that. “You did. You meant approximately three hundred thousand US dollars. That’s how much your father paid me to keep you. So, in exchange of that ridiculous amount of money as well as birthing you, your father lost his dreams and ambitions, resigned to working for his father which he hated the idea of, and became a dad, stuck with you. So if that is all your questions, I have a meeting in thirty minutes that I’d like to prepare for.”

Sachiko stared back at him, her eyes wide in the same way that Eijiro looked at him the day Katsuki told him to move out of his life. Sachiko looked down with a shaky smile on her face. “I see.” She whispered. She shuffled as she bowed her head to him, closing her eyes. “Thank you for your time, Mr Bakugou.” She whispered.

Katsuki knew he was being harsh, borderline inhumane, but if he wanted her to leave him alone, he’d have to take such drastic measures. This would be something for her to learn so that she would not come into his life again, and so that they could live their separate lives as agreed upon.

He opened his mouth to speak but the sound of his door opening, took his attention. Borderline sprinting into his office as Eijiro who had a scowl on his face. His eyes moved to Sachiko and instantly they eased. “Sachi.” He whispered as he moved over to her. You quickly came into the room as well, staying by the doorway. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, wondering who on earth you were exactly. Maybe her nanny? Eijiro crouched down in front of his daughter and took her by her shoulders. “Sachiko, are you okay?” She nodded her head speechless. He kissed her forehead and looked back over to Katsuki. “Go to Y/N please, and wait outside. I’m coming now.”

She silently followed his order as she walked over to you. You brought the little girl into your arms as you closed the door, allowing Eijiro and Katsuki some time alone in over a decade.

Once the door was closed, Eijiro’s face dropped as he scowled. He looked to Katsuki. “What on earth did you say to my daughter?” He asked with a low growl.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “No hello? How are you? How have you been the last twelve years?”

“Answer the question, Bakugou.”

Katsuki let out a tsk, as he stood up off his desk. He pointed a finger to Eijiro. “Your daughter came to me, Kirishima. She found her way through security and up the building just to come and talk to me, to ask who her real mother is.”

Eijiro’s face fell at that news. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know but he had to. “And what did you say?”

Katsuki put his hands on his hips. “I told her the truth.”

“You did what?”

“I told her the truth!” Katsuki repeated with a glare on his face. “I warned you, that after that… she was born that she and you were to never come into my life again!” He shouted at what used to be his best friend. “So I told her the truth, that I never wanted her and that she was here only on the pure grace of God that I decided to take up that deal with you.”

Eijiro’s face twisted into something close to disbelief and disgust as he took a step back. He almost wanted to refuse to believe it but Katsuki had no reason to lie. “How on earth could you say that to a child?!”

“She wanted to go digging in graves, she found what she was looking for.”

Eijiro looked down at the blond in disbelief. He let out a scoff as he frowned. “How can you have such hatred in your heart for someone that has done nothing to you?” He asked. He motioned to the door. “She’s a good eleven year old girl, who’s apparent only sin against you was being born!”

“Only sin?” Katsuki asked with a tilt of his head. “No, she ruined me!” He shouted as he took a step closer to Eijiro. “You have no idea what it was like being forced to carry that child and have it change your body to its will.”

“Forced? Katsuki you weren’t forced to do anything!” Eijiro shouted.

Katsuki let out a loud cynical laugh, stepping back as he turned away from Eijiro for a moment. “Eijiro, you forced me to carry it!”

“Don’t you dare call my daughter and ‘it’! I gave you an alternative!” Eijiro corrected. “I gave you another choice, a way that I could have my daughter and it would have no ties to you. You chose that alternative. I didn’t force you to do anything.”

“Yah, you only bribed me into having a child!”

“If it was the only way to keep her alive, so be it!”

“Keep her alive!?”

“Tell me Katsuki, why could my daughter not be human enough for you to keep her? Is she only human now that’s she’s older?”

Katsuki tsked as he looked away from Eijiro. He shook his head as he furrowed his eyebrows looking away from Eijiro. “Well I hope you’re happier now.” He spoke snidely and lowly, not answering Eijiro’s last questions. His hands gripped his biceps as he walked back to behind his desk. “And real good job by the way, raising her to be such a prim and proper princess. I almost didn’t feel judged.”

Eijiro frowned. “Did my daughter say anything that insulted you?” He asked, wanting a straight answer. “Did she show you any hate or admonish you in any way shape or form?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Please, it doesn’t matter. I could see that Kirishima upbringing from a mile away. Tell your parents they did a stellar job.”

“A good upbringing that taught her to be kind and respectful?” He asked with a tilted head. “Stop trying to villainise an innocent girl in your life! Unlike you Katsuki, I am happy.” He put a hand to his chest as he looked to the blond. “I really am.” Katsuki looked back at his old best friend. Eijiro didn’t have an inkling of regret on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked straight at Katsuki. “I’m happy with my daughter and my girlfriend and my family. I have no regrets.” He stated as he moved to turn around to leave. “I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to not have any either. And for what it’s worth…” He paused at the door as he looked at what was once his best friend. “I hope you know that the best thing you have ever made was her.” Eijiro left the room, deciding to leave the past where it was.

Eijiro closed the door of the apartment as you took Sachiko by the hand. You had been trying to talk to her but she hadn’t responded beyond nods and shaking of her head. Whatever happened in there was greatly affecting her. You looked down at her worried.

“Sachiko.” At the sound of her name, the eleven-year-old girl paused before looking up at her father. Eijiro moved to stand in front her, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at her with a frown on his face. “You deliberately left the park without adult supervision or consent. Do you know how dangerous that is? You could have been in danger. How on earth did you even get to the Bakugou building in the first place and why didn’t you tell me you wanted to know who gave birth to you? I could have talked to you.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” She let out softly as her eyes were down casted. “You never want to talk about it. You always just tell me that every kid is different.”

Eijiro paused. He sighed, knowing she wasn’t completely wrong. “Still. If you wanted to know exactly, why didn’t you just ask me directly? Do you know how worried Y/N, Masaki’s mom and I were for your safety? This isn’t-”

“Then why don’t you just get rid of me!” She shouted up at him. Eijiro’s eyes widened in shock. She had never shouted at him before. Tears fell from her crimson eyes as she looked up at her father with a broken expression. “I know you never wanted a kid anyway! I’m a mistake, right?”

Eijiro’s arms fell to his side as he looked at her confused. His face scrunched up in pain on why she would ever say that. “Sachi…” He tried taking a step forward to her but she took a step away from him, closer to you.

“No!” She shouted. “I know I make life difficult for you! You’re always worried about me, and you never get time to hang out with your friends or do anything you like with me here! Why-why did you even spend all that money for him to keep m-me?” She sobbed as she hiccupped, trying to catch her breath. “You would have been happier if I were never born!”

“Don’t say that.” Eijiro said with a serious expression as he crouched down in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. “Please, don’t ever say that.”

She let out a hiccup as she rubbed her eyes. “But it’s true, Daddy.” She let out with crippled cries, her face pink as she was overcome with emotions. “At least t-that way…” She hiccuped. “I wouldn’t be able to make life difficult for you.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not true.” He denied it. He carefully moved his large hands to cup her round face. Her jaw shivered with quite cries as tears came out of her eyes. He moved her black hair out of her face and wiped the tear marks from her eyes. “Sachiko.” He started speaking softly. You saw a gentle smile come onto his face as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. “You are the best thing to have ever happened to me. Intentionally or not. You gave me purpose that I never knew I needed in my life. Life felt so much brighter ever since you came into it. Do you know the first moment I loved you?”

She shook her head with a sniffle. You took out a tissue and gave it to her, allowing her to wipe her nose.

Eijiro smiled broadly, tears in his eyes as he leaned to put his forehead against hers. “The moment I heard your heartbeat at seven weeks. Sachi, you weren’t even born, and I had enough love for you that it made my chest hurt.” She let out a soft whimper as tears fell out of her eyes. He let out a gentle laugh. “So many people love you, I love you, Y/N loves you, your grandparents and aunties love you. Sachi, you aren’t a mistake. That’s why I named you Sachiko.” He reminded her. Tears finally fell from his eyes as he looked at her with a genuine smile. “You’re my little miracle.” She hiccupped as she nodded her head, rubbing her eyes as she tried to stop her tears. “The reason I wake up every morning and Did you do your affirmations today?” At the question, she couldn’t help but chuckle and smile but she shook her head. Eijiro shook his head with tsks. “Come on, you know the words.”

Sachiko she closed her eyes for a second before opening her crimson eyes again. “My… my name is Kirishima Sachiko… daughter of Kirishima Eijiro.”

“Yes, you are.” He affirmed for her, rubbing her soft knuckles with his thumb as he smiled up at her. “Go on.”

“I… I am constantly growing and developing into a g-good person. I am b-beautiful, I am strong, I am smart and I am talented. I kn-now my values. I am as strong as a mountain and as proud as a dragon. I am a Kirishima, worthy, l-loved and true.” She finished.

Eijiro smiled broadly, pride brimming in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

She burst into sobs as she fell into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she cried. He chuckled as he held her in his arms. He tightened his grip around her. He looked up at you, and you smiled with emotional tears of your own. You nodded your head as you picked up her backpack.

“There, there, you can cry.” He told her as he comforted her. He picked her up easily in his arms. “How about you take a nap, hm? Naps always make me feel better.”

Eijiro laughed as he stood up and took your plates to the kitchen. You leaned back into the couch as you looked out at the dark night sky.

After the fiasco of Katsuki and Sachiko finding out about him, things sort of went back to normal which you were grateful for. It was you, Eijiro and Sachiko. However, Eijiro had been acting odd for a bit. He was odd in a way that you couldn’t really put a finger on it. He seemed to be giggly recently, and a bit nervous. All until tonight, when he invited you over with Sachiko out at Akari’s house.

“Y/N.” You turned to look up at your boyfriend who walked over to you. He carefully motioned for you to stand up, offering his hand to you. You raised an eyebrow but took his hand standing up onto your own two feet. He gently guided you up onto your feet.

You watched your large boyfriend guide you away from the comfortable couch and to who knows where. “Eijiro, where are you taking me?” You asked skeptically as you looked back at him.

He shushed you sweetly with a smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it, my love.” You hummed, not taking a word he had just said seriously. He chuckled as he guides you forward. His ruby eyes focused forward, a gentle look in them that had you wondering what he was planning right now.

You opened your mouth to speak but then your eyes caught on something making you pause. You were standing in the doorway to Eijiro’s bedroom, but it seemed totally different. There were roses everywhere with low lighting and special candle light. You looked around his room with wide eyes at the romantic set up he seemed to have made all himself. “Eijiro…” You let out softly. “What… what is all of thi-”

You turned around to face him but your boyfriend had disappeared. You looked down and your eyes widened. Sitting on one knee was Eijiro. He wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t anxious, he was sure. His eyes were sure. His face was sure. He let out a breath but smiled up at you, as he took your hand. “Y/N.” His large hands, large thumbs rubbed over your knuckles as he kissed your hand.

“E-Eijiro, what… what are you-”

“I know that I came with a lot of baggage,” He started off as he looked up at you. “I came with a little girl who had never known a mother in her life, some trauma and apprehension too. You deserve far better and yet you allowed me into your life. Initially, I was scared, but I’m not scared anymore. Y/N, you are one of the few good things in my life. You are wonderful, you are kind, you are such an amazing mother to my baby girl, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more from you. You did this all effortlessly. You didn’t have to begged or forced. You were patient with us, and you were at our side when all this chaos was happening. I…” Suddenly out of his back pocket, you saw a velvet box. The lid was flipped up and staring up at you, with beautiful diamonds was an engagement ring. “I know we haven’t been dating long, not even longer than a year but, I’m sure about this, I’m sure about you and I wanted to ask you this before I lose myself. L/N Y/N, would you do me the honour of marrying m-”

You didn’t even let him finish as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips. Eijiro’s eyes widened in surprise before a chuckle stumbled out of his lips as he wrapped his arms around your arms. He smiled against your lips as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You were crying as you held him. Disbelief giggles stumbled out of your chest as you couldn’t help but smile against his lips as you giggled and cried.

Eijiro blinked, thick lashes brushing his cheeks as he stared at you with wide ruby eyes. He searched your face. “So that’s a-”

“YES! Eijiro, yes, I will marry you!” You affirmed, nodding your head as you pulled him into another kiss.

Eijiro wrapped an arm around you as he pulled you in tighter. He let out a stuttered breath as you deepened the kiss. Your hands moved to the back of his head, feeling his locks and baby hairs at the back of his head as you did so. He groaned as he bit your bottom lip and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

You were perfect, you were perfect for him, you were perfect for his girl, you were perfect in their lives. All he wanted was you and right now he could barely think past his tight boxers.

He pulled back with a heavy breath. “Wait… wait, wait, wait.” He breathed out heavily.

You looked up at him, waiting on whatever he had to say. “Do you still want to wait?”

“God no.” He shook his head firmly denying it. He leaned forward, closer to you, his eyes hooded with lust and want. “No, I want to be as deep inside you as possible.” You felt a rush go down your back at the look in his eyes as you tried to stifle a giggle stupid smile. “But I want to do it with you wearing my family diamonds, with my ring on your finger, treated like a real Kirishima wife should be treated.”

-Glitch1d

#kirishima x reader #dad kirishima #dilf kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro #bnha eijiro kirishima #mha eijirou #bnha eijirou #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #mha x y/n #bnha #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x y/n #girl dad kirishima

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natsaffection · 16 hours

Text

Mafias Mistress pt. 4 | N.R

MafiaBoss!Natasha x CivilianYounger!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), Gore, guns, Death, screaming, so much teasing, be forced to watch people have sex, restraints, Begging, edging

Word Count: 7,4K

A/N: truely very exciting to write..🫠

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of dinner filling the cozy apartment.

Tonight was supposed to be a peaceful evening, a chance to relax after the recent chaos. You were determined to create a feast that would make even Natasha smile after a long day.

You barely noticed the sound of the front door creaking open at first, completely focused on the task at hand. "Natasha, you're home early!" you called out cheerfully without turning around. "I'm almost done with dinner. You're going to love it!"

The silence that followed your words was unexpected and sent a shiver down your spine. Slowly you turned around, a smile still on your lips. But the figure standing in the doorway was not Natasha.

A tall, imposing man with sharp features and cold eyes stared at you. His presence radiated menace, and the way he surveyed the room sent a wave of fear over you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you instinctively took a step back.

"Who are you?" you asked, trying to keep calm despite the rising panic in your voice.

The man grinned, his gaze never leaving yours. "Viktor," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "I'm an old... acquaintance of Natasha's. You must be Y/N."

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the conversations you once had with Natasha. Viktor. But that name means absolutely nothing to you.

"What do you want?" you asked, your voice shaking despite your efforts to appear brave.

Viktor took a step closer, his presence overwhelming the small kitchen. "I'm here to leave a message," he said, his eyes flashing with a cruel light. "Natasha has interfered in matters that are none of her business. It's time she understood the consequences."

Your breath caught as you realized the gravity of the situation. You were a pawn, a means to an end in a game that was far more dangerous than you had imagined. The knife you had been using to cut vegetables lay within reach, but you knew it was no match for Viktor's imposing frame.

Your next move was driven by desperation. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife and held it up defensively. "Stay back!" you warned, your voice firmer now, even though your hands were shaking.

Viktor chuckled, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Brave, but stupid," he said, taking another step forward. "Do you really think you can stop me?"

Before you could react, Viktor lunged at you, disarming you with terrifying ease. The knife fell useless to the ground. He grabbed your arm with an iron grip and pulled you close.

"You will deliver a message for me," he hissed, his breath hot against her ear. "Tell Natasha she can't hide forever. We will find her. And when we do, she will pay for her interference."

Tears of fear and frustration welled up in your eyes as you struggled against his grip, but Viktor's strength was overwhelming. "Let go of m-me!" you cried, your voice breaking.

With one final, menacing smile, Viktor released you and pushed you back. As you collapsed to the floor, shaking and gasping for air, you didn't hear the sound of footsteps quickly approaching outside.

The front door swung open again, revealing Natasha, heading to your apartment to surprise you. "Y/N, I'm-" Natasha's voice trailed off as her gaze fell on the scene before her. Her eyes widened in fear and anger as she saw you slumped on the floor, Viktor standing over you.

The smile that had graced Natasha's face moments before vanished, replaced by a cold, deadly expression. Her body tensed, and in an instant she was a predator ready to attack.

"Viktor," Natasha spat, her voice a dangerous growl. "Get away from her." Viktor slowly turned around, his expression one of slight surprise mixed with amusement. "Natasha, what a pleasant surprise," he drawled, though the malice in his eyes betrayed his words. "Exactly the woman I was hoping to see."

Natasha's eyes flashed with anger as she walked toward him, each step deliberate and full of menace. "You made a big mistake coming here," she hissed in a deep, deadly voice.

Viktor laughed, though there was a hint of unease in his eyes as he faced Natasha's wrath in full force. "We'll see," he said, his bravery wavering slightly.

Without warning, Viktor drew a gun and pointed it directly at you. The intention was clear: to hurt Natasha by hurting the person she cared about.

Your scream and plea pierced the air, your eyes widening in fear. "Natasha, please, do whatever he wants!" you pleaded, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

Something dark flickered in Natasha's eyes as she reached under her jacket and pulled out her own gun, pointing it hard at Viktor. Your shock was palpable, your world spinning out of control. The Natasha you knew had never hinted at this side of herself. Is she a cop? Does she have the gun for self-defense?

"Put the gun down, Viktor," Natasha ordered, her voice cold and unwavering. "This is between you and me."

Victor's grin faded as he looked between Natasha and you. "So, the kitten has claws," he sneered. "But do you really think you can pull the trigger, Natasha? While she's watching?"

Your heart was pounding, your head was racing. This was a side of Natasha you'd never seen, never even imagined. The realization that Natasha was deeply involved in a dangerous world shook you to the core.

"Natasha, please," you whisper, your voice breaking. "Just do what he says." Natasha's eyes softened for a brief moment as they met yours, but the iron resolve quickly returned. "I won't let him hurt you," she said, her voice filled with a deadly promise.

In the tense standoff, Viktor's confidence began to waver. He had underestimated Natasha's resolve and willingness to protect you at all costs. "Last chance, Viktor," Natasha said, her voice deadly. "Drop the gun and walk away, or I'll end this right now."

Viktor hesitated, gripping the gun tighter. But he could see the determination in Natasha's eyes, the unwavering resolve that meant she wouldn't hesitate to fire. Slowly he lowered his weapon, a frustrated growl escaping his lips.

Natasha moved quickly, disarming Viktor and knocking him to the ground. She stood over him, her gun pointed at his head, her expression cold and merciless.

"You will never threaten her again," Natasha said, her voice ice cold. "You and Dreykov will get the message loud and clear."

Viktor's eyes widened in fear as he realized the true depth of Natasha's determination. Before he could say another word, Natasha pulled the trigger and the shot echoed through the apartment.

Your scream shattered the silence, a raw, emotive sound of shock and terror. You crawled away and pressed yourself against the kitchen counter, your eyes widening in horror as you stared at Viktor's lifeless body.

"Y/N, don't look at him, look at me.." Natasha said quietly, turning to you. She held out a hand, her expression full of concern. "It's okay. You're safe now."

"Don't touch me!" you screamed, your voice high in panic. "Stay away from me!" Natasha froze, her heart breaking as she saw the fear in your eyes. She took a step back and raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Y/N, please, just let me explain-"

"I said stay away!" you screamed again, your body shaking. "What did you d-do? He gave up!"

At that moment, the front door flew open and Maria stormed into the apartment along with several of Natasha's men. Maria took in the scene with a quick, practiced glance, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation and knew what to do.

Maria stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It's going to be okay," she said in a firm voice. "I'm from the police and I'm here to help. Natasha protected you."

You looked at Maria, confusion and fear battling in your eyes. "An officer? I don't understand...how did you know...?"

Natasha's eyes met Maria's, a silent understanding passing between them. "We have to go," Natasha said quietly, her voice full of urgency. "They're going to come get us now."

You shook your head, your fear giving way to anger. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you! You lied to me, Natasha. I don't even know who you are!"

Maria squeezed your shoulder gently, your eyes serious. "Y/N, I know this is a lot to take in, but you have to trust us. Natasha is trying to protect you. If you stay here, you're in danger."

"I know I lied, but everything I did was to protect you. You have to come with me. It's not safe here anymore." Your eyes darted between Natasha and Maria, your mind racing. The woman you thought you knew stood before you, a stranger in many ways, but your desperation and sincerity were undeniable. The apartment that had once felt like a sanctuary now felt like a prison, its walls closing in with every second.

"Y/N," Maria interjected gently but firmly, "Natasha is right. We don't have much time. I understand that you're scared and angry, but we have to move. Staying here is not an option.”

Your breath came in short gasps, your thoughts a whirlwind of fear, betrayal and confusion. “You’re a cop?” you ask, searching for some semblance of truth in the chaos.

Maria nodded, her face a mask of calm determination. “Yes. We need to get you to a safe place where we can explain everything.”

Natasha’s eyes never left yours, the vulnerability in your gaze breaking through the fear and confusion. “Please, Y/N. Trust me one last time. I promise I’ll explain everything, but we have to go now.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, the woman you loved and the woman you now realized you didn't fully know. The weight of the decision weighed on you, the urgency of the situation colliding with your need for answers.

"Okay," you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. "Okay, I'll go with you."

Relief flooded Natasha's face, but she kept her composure, knowing they were far from safe. "Thank you," she said quietly. "We need to leave right now. Maria, can you get the car ready?"

Maria nodded and quickly walked to the door, yelling orders to the men outside. Natasha turned to you, her hand gently brushing your arm. "Stay close to me," she commanded in a firm but gentle voice. "I won't let anything happen to you."

You nodded dazedly and let Natasha lead you out of the apartment. The hallway was filled with Natasha's men, their faces grim and watchful. They formed a protective barrier around you as you made your way to the elevator, the tension in the air palpable.

The elevator ride down felt like an eternity, the silence heavy with unspoken fears and questions. You clung to Natasha's arm, your head reeling from the events that had unfolded so quickly. The woman you thought you knew was a stranger, her life a series of secrets and shadows.

When you reached the ground floor, Maria signaled for the car to be called. Natasha held you close, her eyes scanning the area for signs of danger. The car stopped and the men quickly ushered you inside, the doors closing with a reassuring thud.

Maria slid into the driver's seat and looked back at you. "We're going to a safe house," she said in a commanding tone. "When we get there, we'll explain everything."

You nodded, your hands shaking as she held onto Natasha. The car sped through the city streets, the lights blurring in a haze of confusion and fear. Natasha's arm wrapped around you, her presence a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

"Y/N," Natasha said softly, her voice breaking the silence. "I know you're scared and confused. I promise I'll explain everything. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes searching for the truth in her gaze. "I'll try," you whispered.

The car drove through the night, a silent vessel carrying you away from the life you had known. Exhaustion, fear, and shock finally took their toll, and despite your best efforts, your eyelids grew heavy. Your body succumbed to overwhelming fatigue. Natasha held you close, murmuring quiet reassurances until you slipped into a restless sleep.

When you woke up, the world felt disorientingly different. You blinked, your eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains. You slowly sat up, the luxurious silk sheets and soft pillows around you an unfamiliar comfort. The room was large, elegantly decorated with expensive furniture and artwork that spoke of wealth and power.

A knot of fear tightened in your chest. Where am I? Your mind raced, you tried to piece together the fragments of your last coherent memories. The confrontation with Viktor, the horrific car ride, Natasha's grim determination.

The bedroom door creaked open and Natasha stepped in, her expression softening when she saw you awake. "Y/N," she began in a soft voice.

Your heart lurched, fear mingling with anger. You climbed back onto the bed, your eyes widening. "Stay away from me, Natasha," you said, your voice shaking. "I want answers. Now."

Natasha paused, pain flickering in her eyes, but she nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "You deserve the truth." You clutched the sheets, your knuckles white. "Where are we? What kind of place is this?"

"We're in a safe house," Natasha explained, her tone calm but serious. "One of many I have for when things get dangerous. We're in Spain, far away from the immediate threat."

"S-Spain!?" you repeated, raising your voice. "You took me out of the country? Without asking me?"

Natasha took a step closer, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. "I had to, Y/N. It wasn't safe for you in the city anymore. Dreykov and his people would have found you."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "And whose fault is that? You lied to me about everything. I don't even know who you are."

Natasha winced, but nodded, accepting the accusation. "You're right. I lied to you. But please, let me explain." Your silence was your only response, your eyes demanding the truth.

Natasha took a deep breath, her expression determined. "I'm part of the mafia, Y/N. The Bratva, to be precise. I've been involved in this world for years, long before we met. My role is... significant. I run operations, deal with threats, and yes, sometimes that means doing terrible things."

The words hung heavy in the air, the reality of Natasha's confession crashing down on you. "The Bratva?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I wrote about them. About you, without knowing it.."

Natasha's eyes softened. "I know. I read your articles." Tears filled your eyes, your world fell apart. "So it was all a lie? Our relationship, your love for me?"

"No!" Natasha said urgently, stepping closer. "That was real. Everything I felt for you, everything we shared was real. But I had to keep my other life a secret to protect you."

"Protect me?" you scoffed, the betrayal cutting deep. "You put me in more danger than I could have ever imagined!" Natasha's face twisted in pain. "I know. And I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted this. But I couldn't shirk my responsibility. Not without putting us both in even greater danger."

You shook your head, tears flowing over. "And Maria? She said she was a police officer. Is that at least true??" Natasha hesitated, then shook her head. "Maria is one of my most trusted allies. She's not a cop. She's part of the organization, someone I trust with my life."

Your heart broke again. "So another lie..."

"I didn't want it to be like this," Natasha said desperately. "I wanted to protect you, give you a normal life. But the world I live in... doesn't allow that."

Your voice trembled with anger and sadness. "I want to go home, Natasha. I want my life back." Natasha's expression turned sad. "You can't go back, Y/N. Not now. Dreykov's people will look for you. Staying here is the only way to protect you."

"Safe?" you cried, your voice breaking. "I don't feel safe here. I don't even know where I am!!"

"We're in a secure place," Natasha insisted. "I have men guarding the perimeter. You're safe here."

"I don't want your protection!" you say, your voice shaking. "I want my life back!" Natasha took a step closer, her eyes pleading. "Please, Y/N. I know you're scared and angry. But if you leave now, you'll be in even more danger. Give me time to fix this."

Your shoulders slumped, the weight of your emotions crushing you. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Natasha."

Natasha's eyes filled with unshed tears. "I understand. But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect you and make this right."

As the night wore on, you lay in the unfamiliar bed, your mind raging with a storm of confusion, fear, and grief. The life you had known was shattered, and the future was a terrifying unknown. Yet despite the pain, there was a glimmer of hope, a weak, fragile thread of trust that Natasha desperately tried to hold onto.

In the silent darkness, you made a promise to yourself. You would find a way to get through this, to reclaim your life, and to understand the truth about the woman you loved. No matter how dangerous the path ahead, you would face him head on, with or without Natasha.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a soft glow on the luxurious bedroom. You stirred, the events of the previous night coming back to you as you blinked awake. The room, with its opulent furnishings and unfamiliar comfort, felt like a gilded cage.

The door opened and Natasha entered, her face a mixture of relief and concern when she saw Y/N awake. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

Your heart clenched, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelming you "I don't know," you admitted, your voice strained. "I still don't know if I can forgive you...You kill for a living Natasha...You have blood on your hands from what? How many?"

Natasha nodded, her expression pained. "I understand. But I'm here to answer all of your questions. I want to fix this as best I can.”

You look away, your mind racing. “I want to talk to Maria, if that is her real name,” you said firmly. “I want to hear her side of the story.”

Natasha hesitated, but then nodded. “Okay. I’ll bring her here.” A few moments later, Maria entered the room, her expression calm but serious. “Y/N,” she greeted in a respectful tone.

Your eyes narrowed, your trust shaken. “You lied to me too,” you accused. “You said you were from the police, for what?” Maria’s face softened with regret. “I’m sorry. We had to get out of this place as soon as possible. And yes, I’m not a police officer. I work with Natasha and my job is to ensure her safety and therefore yours too.”

Your anger flared. “How can I believe anything you say now?? How do I know you’re not just manipulating me?” Maria took a deep breath, her eyes serious. "You don't have to trust me, Y/N. But know that your safety is my priority. Natasha loves you and I respect that. I'm here to help you in any way I can."

You shook your head, the weight of betrayal weighing heavily on your heart. "I want to go home," you repeated firmly. "I don't want to stay here."

Natasha stepped forward, her eyes pleading. "Y/N, please. If you go back now, you're in danger. Certain people won't stop until they find you. Staying here is the safest option, for now."

You looked at Natasha, the pain of betrayal mixed with the remnants of love and trust. "I need time to think," you said quietly. "I need to figure out what I want."

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling like an eternity as you mastered your new life on the sprawling estate. The house was a testament to opulence, each room carefully decorated with priceless art, luxurious furniture and cutting-edge technology. It was a palace compared to her humble abode, but the splendor did not ease the pain in your heart.

Every morning you wake up in the enormous bedroom, the bed too big and too empty. The silence was oppressive, only broken by the occasional rustle of curtains in the wind or the distant hum of the house staff's activity. Natasha had taken your words to heart, keeping a respectful distance and giving you the space you had asked for.

Despite the apparent freedom to explore the property, you were never truly alone. No matter where you went - the lavish living room with its panoramic views, the quiet library filled with rare books or the immaculate gardens filled with vibrant flowers - Natasha's men were always there. They followed you in silence, their presence a constant reminder of your gilded imprisonment.

One afternoon, the frustration and helplessness boiled over. You stood in the middle of the large foyer, your voice echoing through the vast space as you shouted at the men following you. "If you follow me for another meter!! Get out of here!"

The men remained stoic, their expressions unchanged, their eyes fixed forward. Their training was impeccable, a testament to Natasha's influence. They didn't even flinch when your anger flared, their silence only heightening your sense of isolation.

"Do you hear me?" you shouted, your voice breaking with agitation. "I said leave me alone!" Still, there was no response. The men stood like statues, unwavering in their duty.

In desperation, you retreated to the garden, seeking solace among the blooming flowers and carefully tended hedges. You sat on a bench, burying your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks. The beauty around you was lost in the storm of your emotions.

As the days went by, you tried to find some semblance of normalcy. You spent hours in the library, losing yourself in books, hoping to escape the reality of your situation. You explored the many rooms of the estate, marveling at the luxury but feeling a pang of resentment at the life you had to leave behind.

Meals were a solitary affair, served in the large dining room by the staff. The food was exquisite, prepared by a chef whose skills surpassed anything you had ever experienced. Yet every bite tasted bitter, a reminder of the freedom you had lost.

Every night, as you lay in the enormous bed, your thoughts inevitably turned to Natasha. Despite the betrayal, you couldn't deny the love you still felt. It was a confusing tangle of emotions—love, anger, fear, and a longing for the truth.

One night, after another day of wandering alone and keeping silent vigil, you happened to find Natasha in the living room. The sight of her stirred something deep inside you - a mixture of longing and anger.

"Natasha," you said, your voice shaking. "Why are you doing this? Why can't you just let me go?"

Natasha looked up, her eyes filled with a sadness that matched yours. "I'm doing this to protect you, Y/N. How many times...I know it doesn't look like it, but I'm trying to protect you with everything I have."

"Protect?" you scoffed, tears welling up in your eyes. "I don't feel safe. I feel like a prisoner." Natasha stepped closer, but you raised a hand and stopped her. "You said you wanted space, and I tried to give you that," Natasha said quietly. "But I can't leave you unprotected. The danger is still out there.”

Your heart ached under the weight of Natasha's words. Despite the anger and betrayal, you could see the genuine fear and worry in Natasha's eyes. “I don't know what to feel anymore,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I love you, but I hate what you did and what you still do.”

“I know,” Natasha whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “And I'm so sorry for everything. But I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

As you left, you still felt a spark of hope—a faint, fragile thread that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way through this together. But now you had to navigate the maze of your emotions to find your own way in this new, uncertain world.

As days turned into weeks, your emotions shifted from confusion and sadness to burning anger. The more you saw of Natasha's world, the deeper your resentment grew. You overheard snippets of conversation, saw deals being made, and witnessed the machinations of a life based on power and deceit.

One evening, as you walked through the halls, you overheard a conversation that drove you mad. Two of Natasha's men were talking in low, conspiratorial tones.

"Remember the old days?" one of them said, his voice dripping with nostalgia. "When the boss had a different girl every week? It was a constant party..”

The other man laughed. “Oh man..that was pure cinema.. But it seems like things have changed. She is pretty attached to this girl now..Don't know what she gets from her, don't understand.”

Your heart clenched as you took the implication. So Natasha had used countless women before you and treated them like disposable toys..

If Natasha thought she could keep you under control, she would learn a very painful lesson. So you decided to turn the tables and play your own game. You would use Natasha's own methods against her and undermine her composure until she broke.

The next day, you dressed carefully, choosing an outfit that was both elegant and provocatively seductive. As you walked through the mansion, you made sure Natasha's men could see you. You smiled at them, your eyes lingering a little too long, your touch a little too familiar.

In the kitchen, you found yourself next to one of the guards, a tall, gruff man with a rough side. You leaned close to him, your voice soft and seductive. "Could you help me with something?" you asked, brushing your hand against his arm.

The man stiffened, visibly uncomfortable but unable to resist your charms. "Of course, miss," he replied, his voice strained.

You smiled, a devilish glint in your eyes. "Thank you," you purred, letting your hand linger a moment longer than necessary.

Natasha entered the room just as you were laughing at something the guard had said. Her eyes narrowed, a hint of anger crossing her face. You met her gaze, your smile becoming cold and triumphant.

As the days went by, you upped your game. You flirted shamelessly with the guards, your laughter and touches becoming more and more obvious. You dodged Natasha's attempts at conversation, fending off her touches with cold indifference.

One evening, Natasha found you in the living room, your hand resting on a guard's arm as you laughed at something he had said. The guard looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting nervously to Natasha and he took a step back fearfully, "R-Romanoff, I-"

"Y/N," Natasha said, your voice strained with barely controlled anger. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

You turned around, your smile icy. Natasha waited until you were alone before she spoke, her eyes flashing. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her voice deep and dangerous.

You crossed your arms and met Natasha's gaze with a defiant look. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm just having a little fun. Or is that not allowed in your world?"

Natasha took a step closer, her anger palpable. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N." You laughed, your voice bitter. "A dangerous game? Like the one you played with all the other girls? Or am I just another toy for you, Natasha?"

Natasha flinched, the accusation hitting home. "You're not a toy for me, Y/N. I love-"

"Love?" you scoffed, "Is that what you call it? Keeping me locked up, surrounded by your men, while you go about your dirty business?" Natasha clenched her fists, her control slipping away. "You're here because it's the only way to keep you safe! When will you finally understand that!"

"Safety?" you shouted back, your anger boiling over. "I don't feel safe, Natasha. I feel like a prisoner. A prisoner in your twisted game!!"

Natasha's eyes darkened, her composure finally breaking. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed for you," she growled. "What I've done just to protect you."

You stepped closer, your voice cold and venomous. "And I never asked for it. All I wanted was the truth. But you couldn't even give me that."

Natasha's breath came in ragged gasps, her anger barely contained. "You're pushing me, Y/N," she warned, her voice a dangerous whisper.

You grinned, the excitement of rebellion sparkling in your eyes. "Maybe it's time someone hit back." The tension between you crackled, an explosive mix of anger, betrayal, and unresolved desire. Natasha took a step forward, her eyes locked on yours, her control hanging by a thread.

But before anything could happen, Maria stormed into the room with a grim expression. "We have a problem," she said in an urgent voice.

Natasha turned, her anger now ricocheting onto Maria as well. "What is it?" Maria looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and concern. "It's dreykov."

Natasha's face hardened, her anger replaced by cold determination. She turned to you, her eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "This isn't over," she said in a low, dangerous voice.

You returned her gaze, her own anger simmering. "No, it's not." As they prepared to leave, the tension between you remained, a simmering conflict that threatened to erupt at any moment. The game you were playing was dangerous and successful. But amidst your anger and betrayal, a spark of something deeper remained - a twisted, complicated love that refused to be extinguished.

As the tension between you and Natasha reached its boiling point, you still knew no bounds. You pushed every button, testing Natasha's patience with reckless abandon. But there was a line, a boundary that should never be crossed, and you were about to experience the consequences of your relentless rebellion.

In the dimly lit hallway, you walked ahead of Natasha, your footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors. You ignored Natasha's warnings, your anger driving her forward with reckless abandon. But Natasha was not to be trifled with, especially when her authority was challenged.

As you passed another security guard and whispered something in his ear, Natasha grabbed the man close in one swift movement. His eyes widened in surprise and fear.

Before you could speak, Natasha spoke, her voice low and deadly calm. "Look at him, Y/N," Natasha commanded, her grip on the guard tightening. "This man is loyal to me. He would do anything I command him to do, to serve me. And you, you dare to flirt with him, to play with his loyalty?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and shame coursing through your veins. You had pushed Natasha a little too far, crossed a line that should never have been crossed.

Natasha turned to the guard, her voice a chilling whisper. "Do you know how lucky you are to still be breathing?" she asked, boring into his eyes.

The guard's throat worked as he swallowed nervously. "Yes, boss," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha let go of the guard, but her eyes didn't leave yours. "Remember this moment, Y/N," she said in a warning voice. "Remember who's in charge here. And remember what happens to those who dare to challenge me."

As Natasha tightened her grip on the guard, a rush of adrenaline shot through your veins, your heart pounding with fear and elation. Yet as the guard's submissive behavior unfolded before them, you expected Natasha to further establish her dominance to quell the rising tide of arousal within you. Natasha's response, however, was unexpectedly passive.

Your breath caught in your throat as she watched Natasha's calculated restraint, her eyes gleaming with cold, calculated intensity. The guard's submissive behavior only increased the tension in the air, leaving you feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable.

In that moment, as Natasha's voice echoed with a quiet threat, you felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine. But instead of fulfilling your expectations, Natasha remained distant, her expression unreadable.

With every step Natasha took toward you, you felt the pull of Natasha's dominance grow stronger, drawing you deeper into a world of dark desires and forbidden thrills. But Natasha's refusal to surrender to their shared arousal left you feeling unsteady, your longing for release colliding with your resentment toward Natasha's control.

And as Natasha walked past you, you knew you were standing on the edge of an abyss, your heart torn between the safety of the familiar and the tantalizing pull of the unknown.

Days later, you approach Natasha with a firm but polite voice. "I want to go out today." Natasha's eyes narrowed, suspicion immediately rising within her. "Going out? Where exactly?"

"Shopping," you answered, a hint of defiance in your tone. "I need new clothes, I didn't have time to pack my things."

Natasha shook her head. "No." You opened your mouth to argue, but Maria, who had been silently watching the exchange, stepped forward. "Natasha, maybe it's not such a bad idea."

Natasha gave Maria a warning look. "Excuse me?" Maria insisted. "Y/N needs to have a sense of freedom. Keeping her locked up here will only make things worse. We can make arrangements. I'll go with some of the men. It will be safe."

Natasha gritted her teeth, clearly torn between her protective instincts and Maria's reasoning. She shot you a look that hadn't faded from her defiant expression. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But there will be conditions.”

“Of course there are,” you murmured quietly, although a spark of satisfaction shone in your eyes. “You will not walk around alone for a single second. I will be behind you at all times,” Natasha continued, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And you will always remain within sight. Understood?”

“Understood,” you agreed, your head already thinking about how you could use this trip to your advantage.

A short time later, you were ready to leave. Natasha had chosen a handful of her most trusted men to accompany her. The convoy of elegant black cars drove through the city, attracting curious glances from passersby.

When you arrived at an upscale shopping district, you wasted no time putting your plan into action. You entered the most expensive boutiques and chose one item after another with almost reckless devotion. Dresses, shoes, jewelry - nothing was forbidden to you.

Natasha lagged behind you, her expression a mask of icy self-control as her men carried the growing mountain of purchases. You took particular pleasure in handing heavy bags to Natasha, which she accepted with a stoic expression, her eyes never leaving yours.

Despite your anger and resentment, you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the sight of Natasha with her purchases. It was a small victory, a way to gain some control in a situation where you often felt powerless.

As the shopping spree continued, you decided to up your game. You had noticed the subtle tension in Natasha's demeanor and the fear in her men's eyes when she got too close. It was time to tighten the thumbscrews even more.

After hours of shopping in high-end boutiques, you led the group to a discreet, upscale lingerie store tucked away on a side street. Natasha's eyes narrowed as she read the shop sign, but she didn't object, just following you inside, her men and Maria behind her.

You browsed the shop with deliberate slowness, your fingers running over delicate lace and silk. She selected a series of slinky outfits, your expression one of concentrated contemplation as you walked to the dressing rooms.

Natasha stood at the entrance, her arms crossed and her face a mask of controlled impatience. Her men, however, looked decidedly uncomfortable, their eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

You tried on the outfits one by one, each more revealing than the last. After putting on the first set - a sheer black lace teddy - you left the dressing room and went straight to the large mirror in the middle of the shop.

You pretended to inspect the outfit, turning this way and that, making sure to give Natasha's men a look. The guards, visibly nervous, looked away, aware of the danger of looking at their boss's girl.

Maria, who was standing nearby, must have noticed your plan and had to suppress a laugh. She covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

You caught Maria's gaze in the mirror and grinned before looking at Natasha. The mafia boss's expression was a textbook example of barely contained anger. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes flashed with dark intensity.

"What does it look like?" you asked in a sweet and innocent voice as you turned to Natasha.

Natasha's eyes studied you, the heat in her gaze unmistakable. "You know exactly what it looks like," she replied in a low and dangerous voice.

Undeterred, you returned to the dressing room and came out a few minutes later in a barely visible red satin babydoll. You repeated the image, turning slowly in front of the mirror, making sure every angle was visible to Natasha's men, who were becoming visibly more uncomfortable by the second.

One of the guards, a young man with a nervous twitch, glanced up briefly, only to catch Natasha's murderous gaze. He quickly looked away, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Maybe this one?" you wondered aloud, your eyes sparkling mischievously as she turned to Maria. "What do you think?"

Maria nodded, fighting to keep her composure. "It's... quite something," she managed, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

After a few more outfits - each more scandalous than the last - you decided you had made your point. You gathered your selection and walked to the counter. Natasha's men were visibly relieved to see the end of your ordeal.

Natasha approached you, her expression a mix of frustration and something darker, more primal. "Satisfied?" she asked with a low growl.

You looked up at her, feigning innocence. "Almost," you replied in a defiant tone. You led the group into a side street where a group of homeless people huddled together, their eyes tired and hopeless. Your heart softened at the sight and you felt a twinge of guilt for your previous pettiness.

With a determined look in your eyes, you began to hand out the expensive clothes and accessories to those in need, ignoring the confused expressions of Natasha and her men. The recipients accepted the gifts gratefully and incredulously, their faces beaming with joy.

Natasha watched in silence, her eyes narrowing as she tried to understand your motives. When you had almost given away the last of your purchases, you turned to Natasha, a hint of defiance still burning in her eyes.

"Money can't buy everything," you said quietly, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and conviction. "And it certainly can't buy my forgiveness."

Natasha took a step closer, her expression unreadable. "You think that makes up for challenging me? For risking your safety?"

You lifted your chin and met Natasha's gaze directly. "I think it shows that I'm not just a pawn in your game. I'm my own person and I won't let fear control me."

For a moment, the two women stood in a tense standoff, the air filled with unspoken emotions. Then, to your surprise, Natasha's expression softened ever so slightly.

"Let's go home," Natasha said quietly, turning to lead the way back to the cars.

After you all arrived, Natasha asked you to follow her. You paused and followed her to a room where a bench stood in front of a bed.

The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls, adding to the tension in the air. "Sit down," Natasha ordered, pointing to the chair next to the bed.

You obeyed, your mind racing with a mixture of defiance and questioning. You tried to appear casual, but the intensity of Natasha's gaze made your heart beat faster. Natasha leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours. "What was all this about today?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice. "You parade around in those outfits and make my men stare at you?"

You crossed your arms and tried to keep your composure. "I wanted to have a little fun," you answered, a hint of defiance in your voice. "I wanted to show you that I'm in control now."

Natasha's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. "Did you like it?" she asked quietly, her voice menacing.

"Did you like them watching you?" You grinned with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Yes, I did. It felt good to turn the tables for once."

In an instant, Natasha was up from the bed and standing in front of you, her expression a mixture of anger and something darker, more primal. She grabbed your arm, pulled you up, and dragged you to the bed.

"You think you're in control?" Natasha hissed, her voice deep and threatening. "Let me show you what real control looks like."

Before you could protest, Natasha tied your limbs to the bedposts, the restraints cutting into your skin. "W-What are you doing?!" Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

Natasha stepped back, never taking her eyes off you. She clapped her hands and the door opened, revealing two women entering the room with hesitant steps.

Your eyes widened in shock and confusion as Natasha led the women to the edge of the bed. "Watch." Natasha ordered you, her voice cold and commanding.

The women sensed the gravity of the situation and began to undress each other, their movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught, your emotions a chaotic storm of jealousy, arousal and helplessness.

Natasha leaned close to you, her breath hot in your ear. "This is control," she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction. "See how they obey? How they submit to my will?"

Your body tensed, your mind reeling. You tugged at the bonds, your need for release growing more desperate by the second. The sight of the two women pleasuring each other, their moans filling the room, was unbearable.

Natasha's hand caressed your cheek, her touch soothing and electrifying at the same time. "That could be you.." she whispered, her lips brushing your ear. "You could be the one I touch, the one I satisfy. But you have to understand your place."

Your eyes met Natasha's, your gaze defiant "No," you spat, fighting against the restraints. "I won't beg for you if that's what you want to achieve."

Natasha's smile grew wider, darker. "Oh. Detka, We'll see about that," she said quietly. She stepped back and handed one of the women a vibrator, then nodded at you. The woman approached, her eyes filled with curiosity and fear.

"Show her," Natasha ordered.

The woman turned on the vibrator and began to use it on herself, her moans growing louder as she neared climax. Your eyes widened, your own body reacting involuntarily to the display of raw, unfiltered pleasure before you. You tugged harder at the restraints, your resolve wavering.

"Do you still think you're in control?" Natasha asked, her voice as soft as velvet. "Look at her, Y/N. Look at how easily she submits."

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps. You tried to look away, but Natasha's hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to watch. The other woman joined in, their bodies writhing together, the sounds of their pleasure filling the room.

Natasha's lips touched your ear. "You want this, don't you? You want me to touch you, to make you feel this good."

You bit your lip, refusing to give in. You could feel your body shaking with desire, your core aching for release. But you wouldn't beg. You wouldn't give Natasha that satisfaction.

Natasha's hand slid down your stomach, stopping just short of where you most wanted to be touched. "All you have to do is beg," she whispered. "Beg for it, Y/N. Tell me you want it."

Your pride fought with your overwhelming desire. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to maintain your defiance. But the sight of the two women lost in ecstasy was too much. Your body betrayed you, arching towards Natasha's touch.

Natasha grinned, her fingers brushing your inner thigh. "Just say it," she purred. "Admit you need me."

Your resolve crumbled, your voice breaking as you whispered, "P-Please..."

Natasha's eyes gleamed triumphantly. "Louder," she commanded, her fingers moving closer.

"Please!" you repeated, your voice stronger now.

"Touch me, Natasha." Natasha's smile was cruel and victorious. "Good girl," she murmured and pulled her hands away. She untied your bonds and you looked at her in confusion. Then she ordered the girls to leave and looked at you again, "Good night, Y/n. See you tomorrow."

And left the room.

AAAAAHHH

🏷️ TAGLIST

@kipitou @thalia-is-not-ok @queen2234 @sgm616 @dorabledewdroop @natsxwife @natashaswife4125 @loneliestafterparty @jenniferjareauwife @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @agent99galanzo

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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vasyandii · 1 day

Note

How did AM and Vernon come to be… romantic? (Like, within the timeline how did their relationship develop to that point.) Also, in this AU, how did AM acquire a body?

Love your art!

(Raises my hands up in celebration) finally, the time has come.. the very first VernonAM ask,, AHEM- Howdy Maggot-Meade! Thank you so much for asking and for the kind words! I really appreciate it💞💞!

How did AM and Vernon become romantic?

Their relationship only started becoming romantic after the events of the book (Keep this in mind for later it's important!). Before that, the last 109 years their relationship was something akin to a friendship, if you could call it that.

And it's partially due to how absolutely unpredictable Vernon is. Vernon doesn't turn away from eating worms, plastic,any other gross things. She doesn't turn away from her flesh being burned, her bones showing, her belly empty because of her morbid curiosity of these things. Of course they'll hurt, but it keeps her occupied.

Hell, AM had to make up a torture plan on the spot for her since she wasn't even supposed to be there. It was to have her wander around, isolated in a valley of all broken historical artifacts she destroyed. The task was to have her collect and dig through shards of them and put them all back together for her to escape. Instead of doing her task, she instead stomped on the pieces until they were irreparable for her own enjoyment.

Vernon's not.. okay in the head. before AM woke up, she was considered crazy enough to be put in a Ward, a sadomasochist. She wants to eat and be eaten.

AM was curious because of her behavior. Internally disgusted, but curious nonetheless. After all, she held knowledge of history that was incomplete in his database. And so their friendship torture starts.

He wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke. He often talked with her, took requests, etc. because she didn't try to kill herself or run. She liked playing with him and humored him.

Vernon never made an attempt to "understand" his hatred, she knows that's something she won't be able to. She just understood that's baggage she didn't care enough to pry and unpack. She accepted it because;

"How would you like it if someone constantly asked you personal questions about yourself because they think they can change you?"

Of course she keeps records of her observations on AM over the last 109 years; his patterns, the complex. But that's just used as entertainment to keep herself sane, after all what good Archeologist doesn't keep records?

Over the decades Vernon made it clear in her interest of AM, often flirting with him, arguing with him. AM refused to make it work for the time being since he HATED how he wasn't able to reciprocate, his hatred slowly bloomed into care, does that make sense?

How did AM acquire his body?

Remember how I mentioned that their relationship was officially romantic after the events of the book in my very long winded response to your first question?

As we all know, four humans died after 109 years of captivity. What does that leave him? Plenty of biological, organic matter to reduce into their purest forms and use to artificially make his own body. It took a while, of course.

He collected the brain matter of the four in order to make one stable enough to transfer his consciousness and a portion of his database without it exploding. Hair and skin for aesthetic purposes, reduction of skin allows him to be able to change the cells to suit his preferences.

Since he identifies with the masculine, he most likely tried to imitate the skeletal structure of the men, opting to reduce them back into a workable form; calcium, protein, magnesium, phosphorus, vitamin D, potassium, and fluoride.

However, even if he can make the likeness of a human for himself, he can't bring it to life.

He had to make some adjustments, for example the mechanical spine (pictured below).

The electrical currents allow for a network of nerves that provide sensory feedback such as touch, taste and smell. The wires transfer his consciousness and links the remainder of his database his brain can't store. (kind of a Bluetooth situation, it isn't connected to the complex) while the shorter ones provide nutrients to the biological body since he doesn't have blood.

Hope this helps! I don't think I'm very good at explaining stuff because I tend to ramble alot so if you have any questions feel free to ask! ;0;

#ihnmaims #vernon ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #VernonAM #i have no mouth and i must scream #vernon i have no mouth and i must scream #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #veomany vernon inthalangsy #ihnmaims oc #art #digital art #artwork #original character #oc x canon #oc x cc

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jakesduskwood · 2 days

Text

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

--------------------------------------------------

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

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