#i just want to be able to make my own decisions and my own mistakes and my own connections | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitty6choi · 1 month ago

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𝑬𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: The memory of his betrayal is still present in your mind, but you decide to leave it behind now that you are at peace, but when an old friend asks you for a favor, you cannot refuse without imagining that you will relive some feelings that you thought you had buried.

𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Song Mingi x fem! reader

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI + little angust + mafia au + loves from the past

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 9.2k (damn it)

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Fights, physical injuries, blood, aggression, violence, hidden identity, sexual warnings: unprotected sex (don't do it), semi-public sex, fingering, mutual masturbation, creampie, (sorry if I forgot anything)

A/N: First of all, sorry for the delay, December was very frustrating for me and it wasn't very pleasant and I needed a little break, but now I'm better so I was finally able to finish this fic and I'm very proud, I hope you like it <3 English is not my first language so sorry if I made a mistake.

⋆｡˚୨𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍୧˚｡⋆

With hurried steps, you adjusted the cap over your hair and pulled up the collar of your jacket. You were fleeing from the sirens echoing in the distance. It wasn’t anything new for you, and you knew it wouldn’t stop being part of your life because of the bad decisions you’d made in the past. This was your life now, and there was nothing else you could do but survive.

What started as small thefts to eat or find something to keep you warm turned into a desperate search for shelter. That’s how you ended up seeking help from dangerous people. The Black Eye wasn’t just a group of petty criminals; they were an organized, ruthless network—and, for you, the last chance to keep living.

Despite your efforts, you knew you were at a disadvantage because you were a woman. But if you had to hide that fact to survive, you would do it. The hardest part was cutting your hair, but you did it. Then, you wrapped your chest with bandages, wore loose-fitting clothes, and finally, you began calling yourself “Lee.” You tried not to speak too much and always wore a cap to hide your face, hoping no one would ask too many questions. That’s how you managed to catch the attention of one of their members.

They tested you for a couple of months before deciding to present you to their leader. You were nervous, cold sweat trickling down your back, but you kept calm as you waited in a room. Then, the doors opened, and two people walked in. One of them was tall and muscular, with multiple scars on his face. From his imposing presence, you guessed he was the leader, Jack. The other person entered calmly, taking his time to assess the room silently but with sharp alertness.

“Is this the new recruit?” the second person asked in a deep, curious voice.

“Yes, Mingi, this is Lee,” another man replied, shoving you forward. He was the recruiter who had "guaranteed" your entry into the group.

Mingi approached you, observing you for a long moment, watching how you lowered your gaze and hid your hands in your pockets.

“Why do you want to join us?” he finally asked. His voice was low, almost gentle, but heavy with authority.

“I need protection. And you need someone who knows how to navigate the streets,” you replied, your voice firm but calm.

“You better be useful, Lee,” he said, pronouncing your false name with authority. You knew that from now on, you belonged to the gang, and he was making your place clear. “There’s no room for the weak here.”

“You’re in,” the other man said before turning and leaving the room, leaving you with the assurance that you’d live to see another day.

Your days of trying to survive on your own had now turned into trying to hide your true identity to keep living. It was hard, but over time, you learned to manage. You avoided interacting with the members and rarely spoke to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Still, there were a few moments when you were almost discovered.

You tried to blend in, and for most people, you succeeded—except for one. Song Mingi. He always seemed to notice everything, and for the past few months, he hadn’t taken his eyes off you. It was starting to get annoying.

One day, after a mission went slightly out of control, you returned to the abandoned warehouse that served as the gang’s base. A voice you knew all too well called your name.

“Lee, come here.” You turned to see Mingi in the distance and dragged your feet toward him “I have to admit, I’m surprised you made it back,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. He always said before every mission that he didn’t expect you to return, but you made it back just to see his irritated expression.

“Get used to it, Song. I’ll be here for a while,” you replied, a bit defiantly, raising your head to meet his gaze despite his towering height.

Mingi stared at you, tilting his head slightly, and let out a low chuckle—but there was no humor in it. With a swift motion, before you could react, he grabbed your face firmly, his nails digging into your cheeks.

“Listen closely,” he said, leaning in, his voice dropping but his grip unrelenting as you struggled to free yourself by clutching his hand. “There’s no place here for someone like you.” You froze at his words, fear flashing in your eyes as you locked gazes with him. Then, without warning, he shoved you hard, making you fall to the ground “Get out,” he said coldly.

The days didn’t get any better, and you began questioning whether you had made the right decision. But the fear of what might happen if you left the gang kept you in place—even if it meant enduring Mingi watching your every move.

One day, the gang organized one of its oldest traditions: an internal fighting tournament. It was a way to measure strength, prove who was worthy and who wasn’t, and keep the members sharp for real confrontations. The atmosphere in the warehouse was charged with excitement and pent-up violence, as shouts and bets filled the space.

You didn’t want to be there, but you thought staying alone in the rooms would make you stand out more. Blending into the crowd seemed safer—or so you thought. The fight was entertaining, but it didn’t excite you as much as it did the people around you. Still, you forced yourself to watch and analyze the movements of both fighters. To no one’s surprise, the expected victor won. He had five consecutive wins under his belt, and now, as his sixth opponent lay defeated, no one wanted to face him.

“Who’s next?” the winner shouted, scanning the crowd for his next victim. Everyone took a step back, and silence began to fill the room. You noticed how some were shoving the newer recruits forward. From afar, you felt a gaze on you. You looked up, only to lock eyes with Mingi, who was staring at you intently, a smile on his face.

“Lee, maybe you should go next,” Mingi said suddenly, breaking the silence. You cursed him in your mind as all eyes turned to you. You began searching for an excuse to decline, but you knew Mingi wouldn’t let this opportunity pass “You should earn your place, rookie,” he said, taunting you. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder “Or do you think you don’t deserve it?” he added, provoking you further.

You felt hands pushing you toward the ring. With your heart pounding, you climbed into the makeshift ring as the crowd gathered around, shouting bets and cheering for the fight.

You glanced at Mingi behind the crowd and sighed, cursing him under your breath before turning to face your opponent. He was a tall, muscular man whose muscles seemed to have muscles. His angry expression only highlighted how eager he was for this fight.

You took a step back, but hands pushed you forward. Then, the bell rang, signaling the start of your defeat.

You didn’t even try. You knew you had no chance. You simply closed your eyes as you saw the man’s fist coming straight for your face, bracing for the impact. His punch knocked the air out of you in one blow. You thought that would be enough to stop him, but you didn’t expect him to climb on top of you and continue his brutal assault.

Everything around you grew blurry. The crowd’s cheers faded into the distance. You didn’t fight back—not even a little. You let the darkness take over.

When you opened your eyes again, you wished you hadn’t. A sharp pain coursed through your entire body, as if a train had run you over. Despite the agony, you tried to move to figure out where you were until something stopped you.

“Don’t move,” a deep voice ordered. You turned your head to see Mingi sitting nearby, arms crossed. He looked worried, though he tried to hide it behind a mask of seriousness.

“What happened?” you asked, staying still.

“You got beaten up,” he said bluntly. “Then you passed out.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Well, thanks to you.”

Mingi sighed deeply, watching as you struggled to sit up. He seemed angry—not at you, but at himself.

“I didn’t think this would happen,” he said, his frustration evident.

“Whatever,” you muttered, attempting to stand, but the pain in your left side was unbearable. “Damn it.”

“Let me help you,” Mingi offered, stepping closer. You flinched, fear sparking within you as he approached. The sudden movement made you wince in pain again.

“I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t,” he snapped, taking another step forward. You tried to back away, but with your injuries and his speed, you couldn’t stop him from grabbing your arm.

“Stop moving,” he commanded. You wanted to fight him off, but there wasn’t a trace of strength left in your body. He pushed you gently back onto the mattress and lifted your hoodie.

His expression darkened instantly. His hand froze mid-motion as he realized the truth.

“You…” His voice came out uneven, words escaping him as the realization sank in. Everything finally clicked in his mind. “Why?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have the energy to argue, especially over something like this. You simply waited for the worst to come.

And it did, far sooner than expected. The door to the room opened, and the leader walked in. Mingi snapped out of his daze as Jack approached you, his face a mix of concern and curiosity.

“How are you?” Jack asked, ignoring the tension hanging in the air.

“I…”

“can’t stay,” Mingi’s voice rang out, cutting through the room. Fear surged in you as you silently begged him with your eyes to keep the secret. But the doubt in his gaze told you all hope was lost “It's a woman,” Mingi declared. The words echoed in the room, followed by silence so profound that all you could hear was the pounding of your heart.

Jack’s gaze shifted to you, filled with a mix of astonishment and concern. After a long, heavy sigh, he finally spoke.

“I know.”

“What?!” Both you and Mingi exclaimed at the same time, equally stunned. You thought Jack would throw you out right then and there, not admit he already knew.

“How…?” you asked, still in shock.

“Since when?” Mingi demanded angrily. “And why didn’t you tell me?”Jack leaned against the wall, crossing his arms “Since the beginning. It was kind of obvious, if you ask me,” he said, looking directly at you. “You were shorter than most, and your appearance was different. You stood out. It wasn’t hard to figure out.” Mingi stepped forward, but Jack continued “I let you join because I wanted to see how far you’d go on your own—until this idiot decided to intervene.” Mingi lowered his head like a scolded dog.

“Even so, she can’t stay,” Mingi insisted.

“She absolutely can. And you, you damned fool, will shut your mouth and act like you saw nothing,” Jack ordered.

“But she can’t defend herself!”

“This is your fault,” Jack shouted, his voice rising. “I told you to leave Lee alone, and now she’s hurt. From now on, she’s your responsibility. If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you.”

Mingi clenched his fists, his face red with fury and frustration. Without another word, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You were left in confusion, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Everything felt strange and surreal. Jack approached you, and you looked at him, still processing.

“Why?” you finally asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” Jack replied.You let out a tired sigh, too drained to argue. You just wanted to rest.

“Mingi’s a good person, but sometimes he’s an idiot,” Jack said. “He’ll look after you. You don’t have to worry; no one will find out your secret. You’re safe here.”You decided to believe his words. You didn’t want to fight anymore “Now rest. Everything will be fine.”

******

The first few months were tense. You were still recovering and couldn’t do much more than linger around. Even so, Mingi was always nearby, watching you with a mix of frustration and curiosity in his eyes. He made sure no one got too close to you, even if it meant getting into fights with other gang members. His constant presence annoyed you, but it was also a relief. You knew that, despite everything, he was keeping his word to protect you.

When you felt ready to return to the streets, Mingi stopped you, and Jack agreed. You had no choice but to stay in the warehouse, but you didn’t waste your time. You started training to be prepared—you didn’t want to end up on the ground again.

It was nighttime, and everyone else seemed to be asleep, but the sound of your fists hitting the old punching bag echoed throughout the space. Your punches were clumsy, and you felt exhaustion in your arms with each hit, but you refused to give up. You needed to learn to defend yourself.

“You’re terrible,” his deep voice said behind you, making you freeze. You turned quickly to see Mingi leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that irritating smile.

“What do you want, Song?”

“Nothing. The noise woke me up, that’s all. Go on,” he said, gesturing toward the bag hanging in front of you.

“If you’re not going to help, then leave,” you replied, rolling your eyes before turning back to the bag and hitting it again, ignoring him.

He walked toward you slowly, letting out an exaggerated sigh. Standing behind you, he took your wrists in his large hands before you could protest, adjusting them into a different position. His touch was firm but surprisingly gentle.

“Like this. Keep your fists tighter, and don’t just use your arms. You need to involve your whole body in the punch.” His closeness made you nervous. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck and the warmth of his body just behind yours. You shivered but tried to focus on his words.

“Now, try again,” he said, releasing you slowly.

You took a deep breath and threw another punch at the bag, following his instructions. This time, your punch felt stronger.

“Better,” he said with a smile, nodding in approval.

“Whatever.” You couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. There was something in his expression, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat faster. “Thanks.” You didn’t know where those words came from, but somehow, they made the air in the room feel lighter.

“You’ve done enough for tonight,” he said quickly, his voice rougher than before. “Get some rest. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“This is just the first step, Lee.” He turned and walked toward the exit, but before leaving, he paused for a moment to look back at you as you struggled to steady the strange rhythm of your heart.

"Again."Your heart was pounding, and every muscle in your body screamed with exhaustion, but all you could hear was Mingi's voice "Harder."Your hands were bruised and swollen, yet you didn’t stop throwing punches "Harder." You focused on everything Mingi had taught you over the past few weeks—firm feet, clenched fists, channeling your strength. But there was something more, something raw. The anger you’d suppressed for years surged within you, blinding and heavy with sadness.

On your final punch, you released everything you’d been holding inside. Your body gave out, and you collapsed to your knees, gasping for air. Mingi rushed to your side, helping you sit down somewhere nearby as he handed you a bottle of water.

“Shit, don’t scare me like that.”You shoved him away and tried to stand, ready to continue, but he grabbed your arm “Take a break.”

“I can’t,” you said breathlessly. “I need to be ready for tomorrow.”

“You’re not fighting.”

“You can’t stop me, Song.” Mingi gripped your shoulders, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” His words caught you off guard, and before you could respond, he stepped closer. He was so close now that you could barely think.“Not again.” The overwhelming silence was filled with an unfamiliar sensation in your chest.

In recent weeks, the two of you had spent hours training together. At first, it was just a few hours a night, but over time, the darkness of the night wrapped you both in an odd honesty. You talked about things you never planned to share. He told you how he ended up in the gang, and for the first time in years, you told someone the truth about your past.

“I’m ready,” you said firmly. “And neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me.” You pulled away from his grasp and headed toward the exit, but you heard his hurried footsteps behind you.

“What are you trying to prove?” You turned slightly to look at him and sighed.

“It’s not about that. The world is cruel to someone like me.” You knew he understood you meant being a woman, and his expression softened with compassion “And I won’t let them leave me on the ground again.”

Mingi didn’t know how to respond. You gave him one last glance, noticing a vulnerability in him that you had never seen before. And in that moment, you realized your feelings for Mingi were starting to change.

The boy who once seemed like your greatest enemy had become your only source of security in a dangerous world. And though neither of you would admit it, something was growing between you—something neither of you knew how to handle amidst the darkness surrounding you.

The next day, Mingi promised himself not to interfere. But as the fights began, he couldn’t stop scanning the crowd for you. Not seeing you anywhere made him tense. If Jack found out you’d joined the fights again, he’d kill him—but what mattered most to Mingi was knowing where you were.

The matches dragged on, and he began to relax, thinking you wouldn’t show. But when the final winner was announced and the event was wrapping up, he saw a shadow cross the ring and step into the center.

“This isn’t over,” you declared loudly.

“Get off the ring, Lee!” someone shouted. “They’ll beat you up again!”

Mingi watched as a dark shadow crossed your face, and your eyes took on a hardened, almost menacing look.

“Why don’t you try it?” Everyone fell silent, shocked at your boldness. You’d always flown under the radar, but this was new—and it sparked curiosity in some “Or are you scared?”

The crowd erupted, people pushing and shoving to see who would step up to face you. Mingi tried to get to you, but the chaos of the crowd held him back.

Finally, someone stepped into the ring, facing you. You raised your fists, and he laughed before getting into position.

“You’re done for.”

“We’ll see.”

The bell rang, and the man lunged at you with speed. But you easily dodged him and drove your elbow into his side. He stumbled, turning to glare at you, realizing this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.

Adrenaline coursed through your body. You were exhausted, your lungs begging for rest, but you couldn’t stop—not now. The man threw punches aimed at your face, and you dodged as best as you could. The crowd’s shouts blurred into the background as you focused entirely on the emotions spilling out with every strike.

Rage consumed you as you drove a punch into his face, your body moving on its own as you continued to rain blows on the unconscious man beneath you.

Hands pulled you away as the crowd erupted into cheers. You looked up and could barely make out your name being chanted amidst the chaos—you had won.

Mingi shoved his way through the throng, crossed the ring, and ran to you. You thought he was coming to congratulate you, but his furious expression said otherwise.

“Enough!” he shouted, his voice silencing the crowd instantly “This is over.” People protested, but Mingi didn’t back down “I said it’s over!”

Reluctantly, the crowd began to disperse. You turned to leave, but he grabbed your hand and dragged you down the hallways until you were alone in a room.

“Let me go,” you demanded, struggling against his grip.

He didn’t release you until he closed the door behind you both, shutting out the rest of the world.

“What were you thinking?” Mingi paced back and forth, running a hand through his hair “They could’ve hurt you or worse…” His voice was thick with anger and desperation, tinged with something that sounded like worry.

“But they didn’t.” He sighed and gave you a once-over, his gaze lingering on your bloodied hands. You quickly hid them behind you.

Mingi stepped closer, taking your hands into his. For a moment, it looked like it pained him to even look at them. Your knuckles were torn, and the pain was unbearable, though you refused to admit it.

“Let me help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he said firmly, guiding you to the bathroom and making you sit down. “Stay still.”

Without waiting for your permission, he grabbed a small first aid kit from a nearby shelf. His movements were deliberate but gentle as he cleaned your knuckles with a damp cloth. You shut your eyes, biting your lip to stifle a groan.

“This is going to sting,” he warned, pouring antiseptic over your wounds.

“Could you be gentler?” you hissed, pulling one hand back, but he caught it with ease.

“If you were more careful, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

His eyes locked onto yours, and the air between you felt charged with something that went beyond physical pain.

The silence stretched as he wrapped your hands in bandages. His fingers were surprisingly tender, and for a moment, you forgot the pain and exhaustion. His closeness overwhelmed you, the warmth of his skin sending your senses into overdrive.

“Mingi…” you began, but didn’t know how to finish.

“What?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost a whisper.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied, his tone filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “Because if I don’t, who will?”

His gaze held yours, and something in his expression shifted. There was vulnerability, honesty, you’d never seen in him before.

Time seemed to freeze as his hand lingered on yours. His eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second, and a wave of nervous energy swept through you.

“Mingi…”

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and his lips brushed against yours. The kiss was hesitant at first, almost as if he were unsure. But when you didn’t pull away, it deepened, filled with a desperation that mirrored the chaos around you.

Your heart raced as you closed your eyes, letting the walls between you crumble entirely. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and relief, as if this moment had been inevitable all along.

When he pulled back, you were both breathless. His gaze searched yours, and what you saw wasn’t his usual cocky demeanor but something raw and genuine. You didn’t know what to say, so you simply looked at him, letting the gravity of what had just happened settle between you. The world outside faded away, leaving only this fragile moment the first kiss in a place as dangerous as it was unexpected.

“No…” you said suddenly, breaking the atmosphere. “This…”

“Please, don’t say it.”

“Mingi, I…” you didn’t know what to do. You had never experienced anything like what you were feeling in your body. This was new and strange, and you were scared, unsure of what to do or say.

“Please, don’t push me away,” he pleaded, holding your waist and looking at you with eyes full of desperation.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, letting the tears well up in your eyes. Mingi hugged you, letting you sob into his chest as he gently stroked your back to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said softly. You looked up for a moment, and for the first time in your life, you let the walls around you crumble.

“Do you promise?”

“I will never leave you,” he assured you. His words struck you deeply, and you trusted him. You let his arms wrap around you, comforting you for the night, not knowing it wouldn’t be the only time he would do so.

*******

Time only made your feelings for Mingi grow. It became harder and harder to hide it from others, as being near him felt like standing on fire. Every glance, every slight touch from him made your heart race. Whenever you had the chance to be alone, Mingi would pin you against the wall, pressing his lips to yours, his hands wandering over your body. But you always stopped him when he tried to touch you beneath your clothes. He never insisted, and you were grateful for that, though deep inside, you wanted it too. Yet you were scared—it was something you'd never done before, and you feared it wouldn’t go right.

Mingi never let anyone get close to you. On the missions you shared, he was always by your side, never leaving you alone. Sometimes, when someone bothered you, Mingi made sure to put them in their place, even if it ended in a fight.

You knew this life wasn’t easy—it never was—but there were moments when it felt unbearable. Sometimes you wondered what you had done to deserve this. Sometimes you wished for an easier life, for loving parents, for school, to fall in love under different circumstances, to be a normal girl who could dress up in beautiful clothes without needing to hide to protect herself.

With tear-filled eyes and a heavy heart, your feet led you to Mingi’s room. You hesitated before knocking on his door but eventually did. A few seconds later, he stood in front of you, and without waiting for anything, you wrapped your arms around him, seeking the comforting warmth of his body.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can I sleep with you?” you asked, knowing it was risky, knowing it was dangerous, but you had no other safe place to go. “Just for tonight,” you pleaded.

“Alright.”

You had only been in his room once before—the day everything began, that afternoon when he had tended to your wounds and shared that first kiss with you. “Is everything okay?” he asked as he closed the door.

“No.” With him, you had the chance to be honest, and you never held back from telling him the truth. “I’m tired.” Mingi hugged you tightly, trying to ease the weight from your body.

“Come here.”

You both lay down on the small bed, and you curled up against his chest. It was the first time you’d been this close, yet somehow, it felt as if you had done it a thousand times.

“Mingi,” you said, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. “If there were another life… do you think this would be different?”

His silence made your chest tighten slightly, but then his hand caressed your cheek with tender compassion.

“If there were another life, I wouldn’t care how it was, as long as I could be by your side.”

Without being able to help it, you pushed yourself up and kissed him, unloading all your sorrow into his mouth, all those thoughts you had you left on his lips for a moment, you didn't want to think about anything other than him. His kisses became desperate and hungry, you felt that intense heat on your body and his hands holding you tightly did nothing but want it. You separated from him for a moment and lifted your sweatshirt, but he stopped you.

“No… I don't want you to do this if you're not ready.”

“Mingi… I want to do it” you wanted him to touch you, you wanted his mouth to run over your skin and show yourself to him without any barrier, you wanted him to see you as you were. You took off your sweatshirt and Mingi looked down at the bandage that covered your breasts, you took a breath and began to take it off, a part of you felt relieved to take it off as you showed yourself as you were in front of him and a part of you was afraid.

When you finished your breathing was labored at the sight, Mingi had bitten his lip and seemed to be struggling with something inside of him. You took one of his hands and placed it on one of your breasts as you sat on his lap.

“Please… say something” you begged as you saw how he closed his eyes.

“You are beautiful,” he said before kissing you again.

That night they both gave more than their bodies, they put their hearts in their hands and gave it to the other, letting the moon be the only witness of their love.

*********

In all the times they had had a mission they had never failed, but this time everything seemed different, everyone was divided and the sound of sirens was heard getting closer, they couldn't get out of the place, they were surrounded and the bullets in their weapons had run out a while ago.

“Shit” Mingi growled at your side hiding “we will get out of this” he told you taking your hand without caring if anyone saw them.

The years had passed faster than you thought, but in that time neither of you hesitated to walk away from the other, even when Jack warned them about the rumors that ran through the gang, Mingi didn't care if they assumed things and neither did you, even so, they tried to be discreet and give themselves only in the shadows.

“I’m scared” you said with tears in your eyes

“Everything will be okay” a loud bang was heard and you both looked out just to see the opportunity to leave, someone had broken the glass of the door “okay, let’s go” he said without letting go of your hand heading to the exit, but before you could get there you felt a strong blow to the head that made you let go of his hand.

Mingi noticed immediately and lunged at the person who had hit you, you tried to get up, but everything was spinning and you felt something hot dripping down your forehead. You touched your head and were not surprised to see your hand red, you took a breath and tried to look for Mingi, but everything seemed to go slower and slower and the sound of sirens resonated in your ears at the same time as someone screamed.

“We have to go” “It’s too late” “They’re here” “Leave him”

You couldn’t bear the pain any longer and you closed your eyes for a moment. You wanted Mingi to take you in his arms, you wanted to feel the warmth of his body comforting you again and hear his voice telling you that everything would be okay, but all you could feel was the cold of the floor and the only thing you could feel was the unbearable pain in your head. You looked up for a moment and wanted to believe that what you saw was a bad dream, that it was just a figment of your imagination, but something inside you broke when you saw Mingi running away from you leaving you alone.

********

Five years had to pass before you could get out of prison, but those five years couldn't make you forget the day you opened your eyes and realized that you had lost everything again and you were alone again. The day Mingi decided to abandon you and leave you behind, that day remained engraved like ink on your skin all this time.

No matter how many times you repeated it and tried to make it less painful, it always felt like a million needles were stuck in your heart and crushed at the same time, it was a slow and raw pain that became more unbearable every second.

The day you got out of prison you looked at the sky as if it were the first time, you let the sun's rays penetrate your skin and warm your body. It was a little comforting to leave feeling like you could start from scratch. Life had given you a new opportunity and this time you wouldn't repeat the same mistakes of the past.

You walked through the streets, contemplating the city that once seemed huge to you, but over the years you got to know every alley, every sidewalk, every store in it. Without realizing it, you ended up somewhere you knew too well, maybe it was your subconscious or maybe it was because you had nowhere to go, but you decided to push the old worn door and enter anyway.

You were surprised that the old warehouse was still here, but seeing it empty and full of dust seemed strange to you. The place that was once your home now felt unknown, despite the bad times you spent here there were also many good ones. Every corner you passed brought back memories and you smiled sadly, the old jacket was still hanging and you felt a small knot remembering someone by your side teaching you how to fight, you looked away and walked every inch until you ended up in front of a door you knew well.

A part of you wanted to knock and hoped someone would open it like the first time you did, you wanted to meet someone, but you opened the door yourself only to find an empty room full of memories and dust. It hurt to be here, but you didn't know where to go.

You entered letting the memories flood over you and it was as if you were living them for the first time, that first kiss, that first night together and many others that followed, those endless hugs and the words he whispered to you to help you sleep. But all that had vanished, all that was in the past thanks to him.

You opened the window and looked at the buildings in the distance while the night fell and the city was flooded with dreams and unfulfilled hopes, you looked at the sky and contemplated the moon whispering your wishes knowing that it wouldn't hear you.

You woke up thanks to the sound of something falling and a bottle rolling on the floor followed by firm footsteps that ran through the place. You looked around for something to defend yourself with, but all you saw was the trash from the food you had stolen and the beer cans you had left abandoned in a corner over the days.

You slipped out of the room and walked towards where you had heard the noise, your heart pounding as you tried to hide in the shadows as you knew how. You peeked your head out and noticed the figure of a man curiously admiring the deformed drawing you had made with the dust the night before.

He seemed to sense your gaze as he looked up and let out a laugh.

“I know you’re there” you hid again and pressed your body against the cold wall, you thought of something, but nothing came to mind, you looked at the ground and the only thing you found were your fists, well, if you had to fight to escape you would do it, you had done it before, you should… “Lee”

That name paralyzed you, you felt like your heart stopped for a second and you peeked out again only to see Jack with his arms crossed when he saw your head peek out. You felt relief run through your body and you came out of your hiding place.

“Shit, you almost scared me to death”

“I’m glad to see you” he said showing a smile “you look… different” shame took over you knowing that he saw your long hair and that you showed your figure without hiding behind a sweatshirt

“How did you find me?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject

“I never stopped coming here hoping you would show up” you turned your gaze to the ground, you were glad to know that someone was waiting for you “when I find out what happened that day…”

“No… that doesn't matter” you interrupted him before he could continue “what have you come for?”

“I want to help you, you can join again and…”

“No, I'm not going back there again” Jack sighed, he looked tired

“Everything has changed, you know?” He dropped onto an old bench, kicking up some dust. “Many left since… we had to leave here and everything was much harder.” He ran his hand over his face as he remembered, you could tell he was having trouble speaking. “A new gang appeared and… we had to join them or we were finished. Many left, including Mingi.” His name made you a little uncomfortable, but you stood firm. “Little by little, the new gang grew and got involved in shady business, but we had no choice.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, no one knew this would happen.” He stood up and took a step towards you. He looked at you tiredly and placed his hand on your shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you want, but if you need help, just call me.” He gave you a piece of paper with an address on it and left, leaving you in the dust and the weight of his words.

You thought you would never call him, but the weeks were getting harder and harder alone, stealing wasn’t enough anymore and even though this place was huge it wasn’t equipped to keep running.

You looked again at the crumpled paper you once threw away and wondered if (again) this wasn’t one of your bad decisions. When you got to the place you were surprised to see a small house on the outskirts of town, you expected an old warehouse again or maybe someone’s garage. With a little fear and holding your breath in your lungs you dared to knock on the door.

Jack smiled at you and let you in. He gave you new clothes and let you take a bath, he fed you well and you devoured every bite. You had never felt anything like this and now you knew why people lived so happily.

“So?” you asked leaving your fourth empty plate “if I join you what will I have to do?”

“It's easy” Jack said sitting in front of you “you'll just get paid”

“Wow, I didn't think I'd be Lee again”

“No” he interrupted you “this time it won't be Lee, it'll be you”

“But…”

“That doesn't matter”

A part of you knew that this would be more dangerous than before, you knew it sounded like a terrible idea and that it would be even worse, but you had no choice, you never had one, so you had no choice but to accept.

The days passed and Jack warned you that this would be dangerous, the people you would meet were very dangerous, that they belonged to some kind of mafia and that you should be prepared, he gave you a gun and although you had never used it to harm anyone the weight of having one was always comforting.

The day had arrived, Jack and you were inside a luxurious bar, you had never been in one and you were amazed by the bright lights and the music resonating in your ears, a part of you wanted to abandon everything and get lost among the people while having fun dancing, but you weren't here for that, you had a mission and you wouldn't let anything cloud your mind. Jack guided you through the hallways and approached you.

“It's the last door on the right” he told you before disappearing with a tall guy with a kind smile. Nerves ran through your body even though you had gone over the plan a thousand times before, but you never imagined being in this situation. The missions you had carried out had always been as 'Lee' but now you had left it behind, now Lee had been left in a place of the past and now you walked as the real you.

You entered that room with your head held high, with your heels clicking on the floor and with the loaded gun hidden in your leg, but none of that could prepare you for what you were going to find on the other side of the door.

It was a small room, with just a desk and two chairs, but the light was very dim, so much so that you could barely see the other person in front of you because of the thick smoke from the cigarette he was smoking, even so, you approached and sat in the empty chair that was in front of the desk.

The smoke parted like a curtain and left you both stunned when you saw the face of the person in front of you, he thought he would never see you again and you thought that the pain of that betrayal was behind you, but when you saw it all seemed to come back to you like a wave hitting your heart hard, everything you thought you had forgotten, all the feelings and memories came back to you when you recognized those eyes.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you said, trying to control your voice. Mingi stood up suddenly, it was as if he had seen a ghost and had stolen the words from him. “So much so that you seem to have forgotten me.”

“I never forgot you,” he suddenly replied. Just being here made you feel a lump in your throat with the millions of memories you spent together clouding your mind, but you never forgot the last moment.

“But you abandoned me.”

“What… what are you doing here?” he suddenly asked.

“I can ask you the same thing” Mingi stayed silent, the shock of seeing you still had him speechless “let me guess… you’re the one who’s going to give me the payment, aren’t you?”

“You… joined the gang again?”

“Deal with your own problems Song” you placed your hands on the desk a little irritated

“But why?”

“I don’t have time for you” you stood up annoyed, but the truth was that you couldn’t stand being in the same room with the guy who broke your heart “give me the payment and go back to your business”

Mingi shook his head and looked at you again, he noticed that you had long hair and the dress you were wearing highlighted the curves that you once hid, you looked very different, but he still knew that you were still the same.

“Let’s talk”

“No” you answered firmly taking out the gun “save it, your words are of no use to me now”

“Don’t do it” he pleaded when he saw you load the gun “you don’t even know how…”

You pulled the trigger aiming close to him making his words stay in his mouth.

“I won’t repeat it again Song… give me the payment”

Mingi let out a dry laugh knowing he had lost, he took out the money and placed it on the desk, you looked at him for a second and went for the money when he didn’t say anything, but he quickly took your hand, Mingi couldn’t let you go, not again. You tried to get away, but quickly between the fight and the struggle you were face to face.

“Let me go”

“No” you pointed the gun, but when you least expected it Mingi had snatched the gun from your hand, you no longer had anything to fight with, but that didn’t stop you from trying to do it.

“You never change” he said taking your hands in quick movements and imprisoning your body on the desk “you are still as stubborn as before”

“And you are still an idiot” you could not do anything, you could only look at him with resentment hoping that the weight of your gaze would do something to him.

Mingi was not going to hurt you, he only wanted to talk things over, but when he saw your eyes he knew that you were dragging bad memories from the past.

“I never forgot you” he repeated and somehow you felt that his words reached your heart.

You looked at him and realized the closeness that there was between the two of you, as if all the past that had existed between you had vanished and only this moment existed. He was very close and something inside you urged you to get closer to him, your heart was beating strongly and you wanted to feel more than a simple touch of his hands on your wrists, you still loved him, you always knew it.

“It still hurts” you said, holding back your tears and the urge to hug him. Mingi let go of your hands but didn’t move away “I can’t forget it so easily”

“So, let me help you” he came a little closer and you felt his breath on your lips for a second, you could have moved away, you could have pushed him away and left that room, but the truth was that you also wanted to forget the traces of the past.

His lips were just like you remembered, soft and delicate with a warmth you had never felt before. Mingi's hands ran down your arms to your hips and he held you by the back to bring you even closer. You separated for a moment and it was as if all the differences, thoughts and problems had disappeared in that simple kiss, his gaze was filled with a mixture of desire and pure longing.

“Mingi…” his name in your voice was like a spell for his body and he responded immediately waiting for your words, but there was nothing to say, you just wanted this, you wanted him.

You pushed yourself forward and held onto his neck as you brought your lips together again, your kisses were no longer slow, now they were just devouring each other, your tongues met and your teeth clashed because of the desperation and desire that seemed to overflow.

His hands held you tightly, as if he feared that at any moment you might fade away again, but each kiss felt more real than ever. Mingi contoured your figure and lifted the hem of your dress, you couldn't help but moan a little at the feeling of his fingers on your skin and he took the opportunity to grab your legs and climb onto the desk.

Your gazes met for an instant and you both knew what the other wanted. Mingi squeezed your thighs as he watched you take off the straps of your dress, leaving your breasts exposed. You noticed how he bit his lips, but at the same time he contemplated your body.

His mouth went straight to your neck and you let out a muffled moan at the feeling of his kisses, his hands went up your legs and slowly approached your core at the same time as his kisses now went down your collarbone and approached your chest.

When his fingers touched your pussy you arched your back from the sensation you had missed so much, without wasting time he began to move his fingers over the fabric letting your breathing slowly become agitated. You placed your hands behind you to lean on the desk and leave your chest at his mercy, with his other hand he took one of your breasts while his mouth captured your nipple.

You felt your body slowly sink into the whirlwind of sensations that Mingi caused you, you opened your legs to seek a little more pleasure and Mingi noticed it, you felt his smile on your skin and he looked up to see your pleading face.

“Do you want more?” you nodded desperately and he moved the fabric that separated your pussy from his fingers.

You let out a moan when his fingers ran over your wet core and touched your clitoris, he played with it for a moment turning it and pressing gently on it making you start to moan. You never took your eyes off him and you were struggling not to close your legs when a shiver ran through your body announcing your orgasm.

Mingi knew it and sank two of his fingers inside you, you let out a stifled sigh and held onto his shoulders when he began to move them in and out. You pulled him in for a kiss and he gladly accepted without stopping giving you pleasure, your hips began to move on their own looking for the highest point, your legs began to tremble and when you thought you had achieved it Mingi stopped.

“Not yet princess” you sobbed internally, but when he pulled his fingers out of you a strange mix of shame and excitement filled you inside as you watched him take them to his mouth and taste the trace of you left on him.

You placed your hands on his chest and began to unbutton his shirt, Mingi admired the way your hands shook a little, but you were determined to undress him. When you opened the shirt you admired his bare chest and ran your hands over his skin feeling every inch of his torso, you slid your hand down his abdomen and stopped for a second when you noticed the bulge in his pants.

You noticed his anxious and desperate look, you began to unbuckle his belt, but Mingi felt that you were too slow but that it was somehow a kind of torture. He took a slow breath trying to concentrate on not ripping his clothes off himself and let you continue at your pace.

You gently pressed his bulge when you pulled down his pants and heard him curse, you saw how his chest rose and fell faster and faster, but you continued just touching him above.

“Shit… stop playing with me” he begged through gritted teeth.

“It’s your punishment.” Mingi closed his eyes and sighed as he felt your hand touch him beneath his boxers. He felt you wrap around his girth and begin to massage him.

It was getting harder and harder for him to breathe and it was complete torture the way your thumb played with his sensitive tip. He grabbed your legs and brought you a little closer to the edge, he needed you right now, he wanted to have you and fill you, he couldn’t take it anymore and neither could you. You stopped as his cock began to twitch and smiled as you heard a frustrated sigh from him.

“I guess I deserve it” he said with a broken voice and you nodded when his forehead pressed against yours “but I can’t continue like this anymore” he confessed looking into your eyes “let me have you one more time”

“I’ve always been yours Mingi” your words moved his chest and he lowered your panties along with his boxers leaving the path clear between your bodies.

Your breathing mixed and you both moaned when he placed the tip of his cock over your entrance, you held onto his shoulders and dug your nails into his skin when he slowly sank into you.

The room was filled with the sound of your bodies colliding and your moans saying Mingi's name. You were hugging his neck and Mingi's hands were holding your ass while his thrusts took you into a spiral of sensations. His mouth devoured your neck and his teeth left marks on your shoulders.

You didn't want this moment to stop, but when Mingi separated from you for a moment you felt empty. He lowered you from the desk only to turn you around making you show him your ass while he pressed your breasts against the wood. You turned your head to look at him, but you moaned when you felt him sink easily into your pussy.

Mingi grabbed your waist tightly and looked at your figure, he approached your body and your skin crawled when his mouth began to leave a trail of kisses all over your back. One of his hands slid down a little and squeezed your ass hard before giving you a spank that made you moan, his hand went inside your legs and touched your clit making you squirm under his body that pressed against yours.

“Mingi… I’m close” you warned, but he continued to touch you as his cock sank deeper and deeper inside making your body start to shake.

“Cum for me princess” his words in your ear gave you shivers and his thrusts mixed with his fingers on your clit seemed to be enough to make you let yourself go in the fog that was starting to take you to your orgasm.

You scratched the wood beneath you looking for something to hold on to as you let the knot in your belly come loose. Mingi gave a few more thrusts and sank in hard letting his load warm your insides. He kissed your back and then pulled away from you, watching his essence drip down your thighs.

He couldn't resist the urge to pick it up and sink his fingers into your sensitive pussy, you moved at his touch and pressed against his fingers that didn't let you spill anything.

"Stay like that, just a moment" he said admiring your body and seeing how a trace of him was left on your body.

After he helped you get dressed the atmosphere became tense again, it was obvious that you didn't want to leave that room and separate again, but Mingi couldn't have you with him, his job was dangerous and he didn't want to put you in danger, while he thought about what to do you finally decided to speak.

"I have to go, they're waiting for me" your voice came out broken and revealed that you didn't want to leave

"Will we see each other again?"

“I don’t know” Mingi took your hand so you wouldn’t leave and hugged you tightly, he didn’t want to let you go, not again.

When you looked at each other again thinking it would be a farewell a loud bang was heard outside. You looked at each other once and without thinking Mingi took your hand before opening the door and discovering what was happening.

There was a lot of smoke and you couldn’t see anything beyond you, but the screams of the people were not long in being heard. People began to run towards the exit, they didn’t know what had happened, but moving a little further they noticed a destroyed wall in a row, people were pushing each other to get out and everything was chaos.

It wasn’t long before you heard the sound of sirens and something inside you brought you back to the past. You were starting to get restless and wanted to get out of here, but Mingi squeezed your hand reminding you that you weren’t alone.

"I won't let you go again" he said before taking out his gun and walking through the crowd without letting go of you. They managed to get out and for the first time you felt relief when you looked at him, he hugged you tightly and knew it was what he had to do "I'm not leaving you, come with me, I'll protect you"

You'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but you knew Mingi was serious, he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you again so you just nodded as you shed tears and kept a new hope in your heart.

𝐴��𝐿 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾𝑆 𝐶𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 ©𝐾𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝟼𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑖 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐵𝐸 𝑃𝐿𝐴𝐺𝐼𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑍𝐸𝐷 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐷

tag: @londonbridges01 || @likeathunderoverflow

#ateez #song mingi #ateez mingi #kitty6choi writing #kitty6choi #ateez mafia au #ateez x reader #atz #mingi #mingi smut #mafia au #mingi x reader #man on fire kitty

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fuckyeahisawthat · 29 days ago

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What is Mage Viktor doing?

So it turns out I do have a take on what's going on with Mage Viktor, why he's messing with timelines in the way he is, and what he hoped to achieve by bringing Jayce to the torment nexus dimension and then sending him back to his own timeline armed with facial hair, trauma, and the ruthless determination to somehow stop his own Viktor.

Of course this is just my own reading; there are many ways you can interpret the reveals of the final episode. But it's become my preferred reading because it makes Mage Viktor come off as absolutely BATSHIT. The apotheosis of all Viktor's best and worst qualities. As he would be.

First we gotta lay out some fundamental principles about how I understand Viktor that will inform this reading.

Viktor was never being controlled by the Hexcore. This deserves its own whole meta, but tl;dr, I think it is directly antithetical to the core themes of the show to think that Viktor wasn't making his own decisions all through s2.

Over and over again in Arcane, we see characters become "monsters" and do monstrous things, and every time the thematic point is that this is still the person you love. When Vi says that her sister is dead because she is Jinx now and when Jayce says "my partner died in this room" THEY ARE BOTH WRONG. The person they love is different now but they're still in there and they can still be reached.

Viktor is transformed by something terrible happening to him (like many characters in the show!) but all his decisions are still his own and to me they seem like perfectly consistent--if extreme--extensions of what we know about him as a character before he gets a Hexcore heart.

So my analysis starts with the premise that Mage Viktor is not trying to free his past self from an outside influence. He's trying to hack his own character traits to make a different version of himself do what he wants.

Viktor is BOTH genuinely altruistic and compassionate AND deeply arrogant. This is such a banger combination and I think turning down the dial on either trait makes Viktor less interesting. I think Mage Viktor has genuine remorse about what he did in his timeline and he is, fundamentally, trying to find a way he could have stopped himself from killing everyone (within certain constraints; we'll get to that). When Jayce is able to show main timeline Herald Viktor his memories of what Viktor is about to do to their world, the first thing Viktor sees is not dead Jayce, or himself left alone in an empty world. It's all the ordinary people who are going to die terrified because of him.

I do not think any version of Viktor wanted this result. But Viktor is so convinced he is always right that his arrogance carries him right past the point of no return before he realizes oh actually I haven't freed everybody I have killed them.

So I do think Mage Viktor is trying to find a timeline where this doesn't happen, but he is not timeline-hopping in order to preemptively stop other versions of himself from making the same mistake. If he wanted to do that, he would just leave all the many many timelines where Jayce dies in a blizzard as a child alone. No Jayce who grows up obsessed with magic, goes around Academy rules to get the hex crystals, invents Hextech and gives Viktor the power to fuck everything up. Easy peasy.

But no. Instead, Viktor is actively going into other timelines and changing them at the point where Jayce would have died.

He is doing things that appear to make the sequence of events that leads to his world-ending magic blast WAY MORE LIKELY. And that's because...

Viktor is obsessively selfish when it comes to Jayce.

Mage Viktor wants to find a timeline where he doesn't doom the world but not at the expense of meeting Jayce and spending years doing science with him.

If the goal was only to prevent Jayce from dying in the blizzard, he could have done it quietly, waiting for Jayce to collapse in the snow and then transporting him to the base of the mountain, leaving before Jayce had any idea who saved him. Instead he makes SUCH A DRAMATIC PRODUCTION of it that Jayce remembers and can repeat the steps of the action years later, well enough that he actually produces a working spell from a barely-tested Hextech prototype. Mage Viktor wants that shit burned into baby Jayce's brain. He wants to make sure he fundamentally alters the arc of Jayce's life, bending it into a trajectory that collides with his own.

Viktor also (as far as we see) doesn't go the route of going back in time and killing his younger self, or steering the course of his own life along a path where he never meets Jayce. He doesn't even go for a timeline where he and Jayce meet each other but they don't invent Hextech. Now maybe it's the case that some time before our Jayce arrives in his timeline, Mage Viktor tried all that, and has figured out that none of those options work. (Maybe in some of those timelines Jayce is the one who goes Machine Herald, and there's no partner there to talk him off the ledge of ending the world.) But I think it's also possible that, now that he's gotten the experience in one timeline of spending years with Jayce making once-in-a-generation scientific breakthroughs together (which I truly believe is just as important a part of their relationship to Viktor as any romantic or sexual element might be)...he can't bear to deny any version of himself the chance of having that--even if the price is the rest of the world. Because a world where Jayce isn't his partner isn't a world worth saving.

So what I think Mage Viktor is doing is sitting there with his stubborn engineer brain and the husk of his dead soulmate, fiddling with the timelines like a Rubik's cube, going Not meeting Jayce CANNOT be the only option. There MUST be a timeline where Jayce and I meet each other and entangle our lives in an alarmingly codependent way AND we dodge the apocalypse at the last minute, I don't end up killing him, and we do not doom the world together. And I'm going to fucking find it.

So he's been hitting timeline after timeline, trying to find the combination of factors where everything works. He is not trying to preemptively save every timeline from himself, he is trying to prove to himself that meeting the love of his life doesn't doom the entire fucking world. It's devotion that is SO PROFOUNDLY SELFISH that he is willing to doom timeline after timeline, but driven by someone with enough compassion and pride that he doesn't want the guilt and shame of knowing he can only have this one life-changing thing if he ruins everything else for everyone, and enough arrogance to still look at this as a problem he must be smart enough to solve.

At some point in this process, I think he also figures out that Jayce is the only person who has any chance of reasoning with any version of himself. I think it's worth paying attention to the exact wording of his "in all timelines, in all possibilities" speech, because it's not just a love confession (although it is that).

"I thought I could bring an end to the world's suffering. But when every equation was solved, all that remained were fields of dreamless solitude. There is no prize to perfection. Only an end to pursuit. In all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can show me this."

And while this is some hella romantic cosmic soulmate level shit, it is also Viktor saying I need you, because you are the only person I have ever trusted enough to save me from myself.

It's the Hexcore promise all over again. Viktor knew he couldn't destroy his own creation. I read this not as Viktor being physically unable to destroy it because the Hexcore had some power over him, but not having the will to destroy it. Because this huge leap in Hextech technology was his big breakthrough and not (as I think he saw it) him supporting Jayce's dream. He knew he couldn't do it. So he asked Jayce to do it for him. Please, save me from my own pride, my desire to leave a legacy. I can't do it on my own.

It's a huge extension of trust, for Viktor to admit such a need. And now he's doing it again when the stakes are MUCH MUCH higher. I need you, because you are the only person who can show me the horror of what I am about to do and have me believe it.

Of course, the deep irony is that really the only person Viktor trusts to tell him he is wrong is HIMSELF FROM THE FUTURE. Astral plane Machine Herald Viktor is standing right behind Jayce, watching Jayce's memory of Mage Viktor telling him what the consequences of his actions will be, and that is the moment the horror sinks in and cracks him fully out of his machine shell.

But of course Jayce is the only person he would ever trust enough to carry such a message (from himself!!) to somewhere close enough to reach him.

It's not clear exactly how much of a detailed plan Mage Viktor has when he sends Jayce back to the main timeline, or how much of that plan he shares with Jayce. But I think he has figured out some broad strokes which affect how Jayce behaves.

(1) Jayce has to immediately go and kill commune Viktor. Squishing Salo is maybe a bonus side quest, but Jayce doesn't even take time to fucking shower before he heads for the commune. (I would love to see the part of the conversation where Mage Viktor is like yeah you know that pit you just climbed out of? Yeah the first thing you gotta do is go right back in there, all the way to the bottom, and find me looking like ethereal cyborg Jesus and blast a fucking hole through my chest.) Maybe this is because if Jayce waits around at all, commune Viktor finds a way to get to him and he folds and joins the cult. Maybe this is because there are just fewer variables involved in forcing Viktor to speedrun his own villain arc by Jayce repeatedly turning him down in one "perfect" form after another. Maybe Mage Viktor knows himself well enough to realize "yeah if you say no to me even ONE TIME but ESPECIALLY when you are HOT and SUFFERING I will go fucking apeshit and we can use that to our advantage."

(2) I think Mage Viktor has realized that he can only be stopped at the very very VERY last minute. He has to be able to see the direct line between what he is about to do right now and the arcane-blasted hell world he's about to create. Otherwise his ego will get in the way and tell him he is smart enough to figure out a way to somehow not kill everybody. Yeah Mage Viktor fucked that one up obviously, but I, main timeline Viktor, will be smart enough and well-intentioned enough when the time comes to simply not do that. I think this is why, for example, Jayce doesn't go to the commune trying to get Viktor to see the error of his ways. It won't work until it is allllmost too late.

Main timeline Viktor stops literally seconds before the point of no return. The arcane corruption spikes that we see everywhere in Mage Viktor's world are already starting to appear.

I think Mage Viktor knows that Jayce has to let him get right up to the edge, close enough to be looking over into the abyss, before he'll be able to pull him back.

But he knows Jayce can do that. That's what they do for each other, right?

This is why I think it was always the plan for Jayce to fight him all the way to the top of the Hexgate, and then surrender. Jayce has to survive until the end of the fight, and maybe for magical physics reasons he has to wait until Viktor sends the anomaly into the sky above the Hexgate. But once they get to the top of the Hexgate tower he stops trying to fight Viktor altogether. Maybe Mage Viktor told him exactly when it had to happen or maybe he just realizes this is the exact same place where he died in Mage Viktor's world; this is his last chance. But in any case, Jayce lands on the top of the Hexgate on his knees and he doesn't try to get up.

He waits, and when he senses Viktor behind him he doesn't try to fight or run away.

I think he knows, either because Mage Viktor told him or through his own intuition, that he has to let Viktor pull him into the astral plane if he wants a chance at reaching him.

How exactly he was going to get through to him and/or get close enough to share the memories before Viktor assimilated him...ehhhh I don't know if either of them had that figured out. The "you were never broken" part of Jayce's speech, while important from a character perspective...very crucially DOES NOT WORK. IT DOES NOT WORK AT ALL. Viktor is assimilating Jayce the whole time. You can see Jayce's astral body changing from the unique version that's still him (like his hands on the left, when he first enters the astral plane--which still look more or less human even though Viktor has already erased "imperfections" like the scrapes and cuts from his time in the pit and the arcane corruption that's spreading up and down his arm from where the rune is embedded) into a featureless gold blob like the other assimilated people.

You can watch the gold light creeping up his body steadily during those lines until it reaches his eyes.

The ONLY thing that stops this timeline from ending the same way Mage Viktor's does...is EKKO.

I think you can make the case that Mage Viktor sent Ekko to the no-Hextech timeline intentionally. But it is such a complex chain of causality for Ekko to get to the point where he's chucking a time machine at Herald Viktor's face that there is no way anyone--even a remorseful demigod with lots of time on his hands--could control every possible factor.

However elaborate Mage Viktor's plan was, and however determined Jayce was to keep his promise to him, it all would have failed if not for factors outside their control and random fucking chance.

Arcane is FULL of near-misses and what-could-have-beens and characters who are trying their best to do something getting knocked off course by consequences they never could have foreseen. Season 2 in particular introduces a persistent thread of chaos and the sense that even events that have understandable root causes are now spiraling out of characters' control. So it feels fitting that such a moment factors into the show's ending.

This is Jayce right before Ekko blasts through spacetime right above Viktor's head.

Yeah that guy was cooked.

The only thing that stops Jayce from being assimilated is Ekko breaking time to throw the Z drive at Viktor's face.

Which startles Viktor enough that he takes his hand off Jayce's head in the physical realm, and also breaks a piece of his machine mask off in the astral realm.

As he always does when one of his "perfect" bodies gets damaged, Viktor withdraws and tried to hide, enough that he lets go of the assimilation connection with Jayce.

Jayce starts to regain his own identity/autonomy.

And he gets a do-over. Exactly the same way Ekko used the Z drive to get a do-over with Jinx when he was trying to talk her out of suicide. Jayce gets another chance, and that's when he goes for "all I want is my partner back" and "because I promised you." Which works.

Mage Viktor's plan, I think, was for Jayce to help main timeline Viktor realize what he was doing before it was too late, and then give him the runestone, which allows him to release all the minds/souls that are connected to him before this becomes some runaway chain reaction of arcane power that swallows everything around him. (How the runestone does this exactly, and how the anomalies play into it, is stuff I am still thinking about. But tbh I am less concerned with the details of made-up magic physics than I am with the character beats.) Mage Viktor had accepted that main timeline Viktor was probably going to die in this process and he'd made peace with it. That's what "should" have happened anyway, if Viktor never found a way to forestall his illness, right? As long as this Viktor got to spend the best years of his life with his Jayce, it was okay.

I don't think Mage Viktor ever expected Jayce to stay there until the end. His goal was to save the world and spare Jayce from himself. And why would he plan otherwise? We know why Jayce stays, but Mage Viktor never got that part of the story. He schlorped up his own Jayce's consciousness with everyone else and maybe he only understood the depths of what Jayce felt for him in the moment that he was killing him. And main timeline Viktor certainly does not expect Jayce to stay. He's shocked when he realizes Jayce has no intention of leaving. No, that wasn't part of any master plan. That part was all Jayce.

#arcane #character analysis #viktor arcane #jayce talis #ekko #mage viktor #wizard viktor #arcane meta #jayvik #long post #seriously jesus fuck SO fucking long #i hit the image limit for the first time ever i think

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revelboo · 2 months ago

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went through all of "everything is alright" and I'm far too attached to it already (and also heartbroken as of the current chapter 💔💔), thank you for the amazing writing and quick updates!!

(also you made me finally purchase some of the blokees I had my eye on🫶)

Thank you for reading my nonsense! The Blokees figures are some of my favorites- I love little figures

Everything is Alright Pt 80

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Everything.” One little word that sends cracks running through him, lets the ice seep in. The numb anger. Because he knows the things he’s done to further the Decepticon cause. Some of them of his own volition to enhance his position, others under Megatron’s name. Your eyes looking up at him, hurt and almost pleading with him to deny it. To tell you it’s all a lie, because you don’t want to know the truth of him. That he did the hard things, he did what was necessary. You hadn’t resisted when he’d picked you up. Maybe as broken as he feels. No matter how much he’d wanted to shield you from the reality of this war, to let it be something you don’t need to think too much on, there’s no hiding it anymore.

• “Now you know,” he growls, rasping voice colder than you’ve ever heard it. Wishing he’d denied it even if it was a lie. You’re not a child, it’s not like you don’t understand that they’re at war, but some of those things were just cruel. Violence for the sheer delight of causing pain and you don’t want that to be who he really is. Don’t want to love someone who could do that. Want to pretend that it’s still alright. That it’s just you and him learning each other, growing closer without reality slipping in. Because right now, your heart is breaking.

• Watching you hurts, because Soundwave can feel that despair, that aching sting of grief. And he doesn’t know how to fix this. If it even can be fixed. As Starscream turns to leave with you, he reaches out, catches his arm. “Wait,” he says. Wanting to take you, keep you with him, because right now he doesn’t trust the Seeker’s mindset at all. And Starscream rounds on him, denta bared and a cannon in his face. Realizes that the SIC has nothing left to lose, optics furious with hate. So it’s a surprise when Starscream lowers his arm and walks past. As if he’s not even worth the bother. Taking you away as his spark aches, because this isn’t what he wanted at all.

• It’s oddly freeing realizing it’s all gone, everything taken away from him. You’re still there in his hand, but that trust is broken. And he just wants to scream, to destroy something. Because having you with him and so distant and quiet is worse than just losing you. Wonders if you’ll be able to bear looking at him anymore. If you’ll speak to him or just hide from him. See only a monster. Entering his quarters, he looks down at you, meeting your eyes. Megatron said the words, but this is the culmination of a lifetime of his decisions. “Talk to me, please.” Those soft words make his spark ache. Cut through the indifference he wants to protect himself with. “Star?”

• “Do you want me to deny everything?” He asks. And you really do, but you just shake your head. “I made mistakes. I was cruel and ambitious,” he says slowly, a servo sliding against your hip as he keeps you trapped in his hand, standing in the middle of his habsuite. Like he’s afraid to put you down in case you try to get away. “And I’m not entirely sure I can be anything else at this point.” Jaw working like the admission cost him something, you close your eyes. But… That’s not exactly true is it? He’s been changing, softening every day. Those big hands capable of violence, but never towards you. If he’s been monstrous in his past, that’s not the him you know. Even if those horrors laid out for you can still hurt you, they’re not him anymore. Right? Because you need to believe that or you’ll come apart completely.

• “I want to hear it all from you. The truth, good and bad,” you whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek. Not pushing him away or abandoning him. Not yet and he doesn’t know what to make of you. You already know. Megatron would have told you in grisly detail, so why ask for more pain? Are you trying to understand him? Making an effort to reach out to him still? Servo sliding over your cheek to wipe away the tear, you touch his hand. Remembering your hesitant admission that you liked him what feels like forever ago. He’d never told you how he felt about you in return, though. Not really. Unable to bring himself to admit that he needs you beside him, to make himself vulnerable that way with words. That he can’t sleep without you there, that you’re everything now, his world narrowed down to you, tied to the beat of your heart, to your smiles. It’s why he’d bonded you to him without asking, because he needed you and he was afraid of being denied so he’d taken. Optics shuttering, he sits on the berth with you. And slowly, hesitantly, he begins to speak. To get all the awfulness out.

• It’s funny. Breaking the Seeker’s little pet didn’t give him the satisfaction Megatron expected. Only left him more exhausted than before. Sitting on the edge of his berth, he keeps picturing your eyes leaking. Your pain. And it doesn’t matter. You’re just a human, you’re nothing. But he keeps thinking about it all the same. Telling himself that he doesn’t care. That you’re one more casualty of the war and that those ghosts don’t bother him.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave #idw megatron

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shaylene-the-praline · 2 months ago

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‼️ PSA - Creators, Beware‼️

It's taken a lot for me to come out and do this, but after this situation escalating to a point of manipulation that's flat out disgusting, I have to.

There's a person within this community (goes by at least 5 or more different accounts...I've only been able to weed those out because I've been messaged with them) that's been disrespecting my boundaries and is now traveling into the realm of harassment. I've blocked him an amount of times I can't even count at this point, but he just deletes the account and comes back. The ones below are his two main ones.

ACCOUNT LINK

I'm going to give a little bit of background. He started out dming me from these. I would respond occasionally. He would tell me how he wanted to get to know me and how he wasn't like all the other "nasty guys on tumblr"...yadda yadda. I made it clear that I have trust issues and I'm not just opening up to anyone, and that I wouldn't mind being friends with time. He then goes on to accept this, claiming that he didn't want anything sexual. Well...my trust issues proved me right, because a little while after that, I noticed a pattern.

So I confronted him one day about what I noticed, and you see what he said. After that, I went back and forth mentally about what to do, and stupidly made the decision to give him another chance to not lie again. I feel like an idiot for doing it because he did end up lying again, but the part of me that believes people can change from a weird mistake took over.

So fast forward. I caught him in another similar lie, and that's when I blocked his two main accounts. This is when the random account making started; he would spam me with apologies that were half the time guilt trips. (Painting me as the villain for blocking him and not wanting to hear out his apology.)

The apology in the middle was the one I somewhat believed. But when I made the decision a few weeks ago to continue to block him, he kept creating accounts up to 20+ times to keep spamming me and trying to force interaction from me. Now, see on the left how he offered to get me something off my wishlist? This was a normal comment in every other message...but today, it's escalated because he actually has bought me something and is trying to use it against me.

This has been weighing on me mentally and making my tumblr experience stressful. I haven't shut off my dms because it isn't fair to people I actually speak with, but it also isn't fair to me that my blocks aren't respected, and I'm being made to feel like being lied to and mistreated is my fault. So other creators in this community, please be aware of this person. I don't doubt he's done this to others, I don't want it to happen to you.

My safety isn't in danger, but my mental health is rattled. Tumblr is fun for me, but not when someone won't back off and let me make decisions in my own time. He likes to say I've agreed to working it through...but that was only me saying I'd TRY. After witnessing this behavior, it sent me to blocking because I realized how stressed I felt.

Again..I hate that it had to come to this, but now that I'm being made to feel uneasy because he's using gifts to try and force me to interact, it's gone too far.

#cnc k!nk #cnc free use #bd/sm kink #bd/sm community #cnc brat #rough cnc #cnc somno #free use kink #corruption kink #cnc kidnapping #hard k1nk

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i2ycat · 5 months ago

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two wrongs don’t make one right

pairing lee heeseung x fem!reader synopsis mistakes always happen, whether you mean to make them or not. but it’s not a question of ‘do you like heeseung?’ anymore, it’s more so: ‘why do you like heeseung?’. or in which, two wrongs just don’t make one right genre college!au, slight fluff, angst, established relationship word count 3k+ warnings cursing, crying, toxic relationship between heeseung and reader, implications of a professor x student relationship, heeseung is implied to have possibly cheated, reader cheats w sunghoon, everyone is of age, bitchy & manipulative characters, reader is insecure, small mention of smoking weed, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking it’s been 2 months since i last posted anything oh my…. erm! here’s a little fic before i disappear again lol <//3 i don’t condone anything that happens in this fic or any of their decisions!!!! main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

The weekend had rolled by faster than you could blink. One second, you’re rotting away in your room and the next, you’re hopping on one foot in front of your mirror, hastily getting ready for the day because you’re running 30 minutes late to your 10am coding class. You’re usually the type to wake up earlier than your alarm, but you were staying up way later than you usually would’ve the night before— staying up late to talk to your boyfriend of 7 months, Lee Heeseung.

Known to be the academy’s most influential guy, Lee Heeseung was, and still is, quite the character. Simply calling him influential would be a grave understatement though, because he descended from a family of powerful politicians and businessmen, even having the biggest corporation in all of South Korea— Lee Tech— as part of his familial pedigree.

It’s no secret that he has the entire world at his fingertips, and at any given moment, he could burn it if he wanted to.

But like how everything else in this world is unfair, Lee Heeseung wasn’t just disgustingly rich, he also inherited his mother’s celebrity looks— evident in his sharp features and overly charming personality. He has girls constantly eyeing him left and right, up and down, even when you’re around.

You went into this relationship knowing full well the certain costs it had to your own happiness and well-being. In the 7 months you’ve been seeing each other, you’ve never felt so insecure in your entire life. And despite his constant reassurances, you know that he couldn’t even begin to imagine half of the battlefield you were facing.

No matter how much you try to deny it, you were subconsciously fighting for his attention against people who were born to be at the same status as he is— in terms of wealth, power, and looks. You always hated being born into a grassroots-level family, but you knew that being salty about your birth-given circumstances would change absolutely nothing. So you worked hard as fuck to be able to get into such a prestigious university. You threw the entirety of your youth away to be able to be the first in your family to go to college, and here you are, barely hanging onto your scholarship because of some boy you met at a party almost half a year earlier.

They’re only admirers, he said. It was just you and him, he said. You just needed to trust him, he said, but that’s something easier said than done, especially for you.

“Running late again?” The security guard monotonously inquires. He’s seen this exact scene about a thousand times and more with other students before you, so he’s chopping the late slip and handing it back to you like clockwork, but this time with a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. It was as if he had a good day but not good enough to warrant the toiling of doing such a challenging task.

Not that it mattered to you anyways.

You ducked your head in an informal ‘thank you’ before hurriedly leaving the stale office and into the hallways.

The hallways always seemed unending whenever you were running late, the rows of windows you ran past would multiply tenfold and the clock’s hands would run faster than it usually would— it felt as if time was warping everything within its reach.

Finally, the running reached its stop. You bent on your knees to catch your breath, the late slip crumpling in between your fingers in the process.

One.

Two.

You counted.

There was no reason to panic. Just walk in, hand the slip and sit your ass down. The visual in your head was clear and it somewhat helped to calm down your nerves. So with one last deep breath, you turn the brass handle and walk in.

You’re so damn dramatic.

The doors creaking reverberates in the small auditorium, easily catching everyone’s attention. You gulp down the lump in your throat as you watch your professor pass you a look of disapproval. It made your heart drop, because you were his best student and you hate disappointing people who expect great things from you. Your let your gaze angle towards the carpeted floors, making your way to the seat closest to the door.

When you feel as if you’ve disappeared into your seat, it was as if you could breathe again. You were finally away from the spotlight and people’s unnervingly curious eyes ceased trailing your every move. You should really start sleeping earlier or you’d have to get used to this.

“Hey,” Erin, your seatmate, whispers. Her voice tried to be as discreet as it could in a whisper… it didn’t really work. The professor gave her a stern stare as a form of warning, though you could tell it had an entirely different undertone, even from a mile away. It left a bad taste in your mouth, having to bear witness to such unprofessional exchanges of looks in an academic setting of all places. Erin, who bites her lip, scribbles whatever she was going to say to you on a torn piece of paper.

“Wanna know a secret?” It read with two boxes just right underneath it: yes or no. You look at her with a dumbfounded look plastered all over your face. You knew she was childish to a certain extent, but was she really that childish? Nevertheless, you tick the box on the left and send it back to her.

Cause you know, curiosity killed the cat.

You should’ve seen the conniving smirk plastered on her lips but you were too focused on your thoughts to notice anything else around you. She scribbles once more then folds it, dropping it into your hands with the hastily written warning facing you: “read it when you get home. preferably alone lol ;)”.

Then, class is dismissed.

You watch her get up from her seat and blend in with everybody else rushing out of the room, not missing the heavy glance she passes at the professor. You didn’t even want to stay any longer to see what happened next, so you started haphazardly shoving things into your bag instead, remembering to pocket the small note into the depths of your jacket.

When you leave the room, Lee Heeseung is already standing there, in all his lazy-fitted glory— messy bed hair hiding under a hood, donning the black hoodie you both bought as a couple’s set for valentines last week and the black sweatpants you bought for him to match.

“Hello, beautiful.” He coos, engulfing you in a tight one-armed hug. It gave you the opportunity to take in his woody yet elegant-smelling perfume, the same Jo Malone one he wore everyday.

Your heart swelled in its place, appreciating how, without fail, Heeseung would wait for you outside your classes whenever he could, even if they ended really late— late enough that he should be at home resting, but instead, he would spend that time waiting for you like the good boyfriend he is.

“Hey,” you smile into his chest. “Ugh, I woke up late again today thanks to a certain someone.”

“Wonder who that is? Maybe I should give them a word or two about keeping my princess up so late.” He pulls you from his chest to cup your face, coaxing you to fall deeper with that sweet smile of his. It never fails to make you feel like you’re the only girl in his world, like he’s got your back no matter what.

It was dangerous for such a smile to have the ability to make you forget about all your problems, even ones pertaining to him.

“You’re such a dork,” you roll your eyes at him as you push him away.

“At least I’m your dork, so naturally… it cancels out.” A boyish grin spreads across his face so innocently that you can’t help but press a kiss on his nose, immediately prompting him to blush a crimson red at your sudden display of affection. “What was that for?”

“You looked cute,” you shrug.

At this, Heeseung turns an impossibly darker shade of red. “You can’t just say things like that so casually and expect me to be okay.” The way he attempts to cover the blush in his face behind his hands makes you laugh, completely and utterly endeared by him.

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll give you a heads up, yeah?”

“You’re so mean.” He pouts.

When you got yourself entangled with the Lee Heeseung all those months ago, you didn’t think that he would have such a boyish and cute side to him. His public persona had always been this untouchable, charismatic guy who could get anything he wanted with a snap of his finger, so you could imagine the whiplash you experienced when the first time you ever kissed him, he blushed so deeply you thought he was drunk.

It made you feel special, being the only one to have ever brought out this side of him, like you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Yeah, but you can’t ever bring yourself to hate me.”

“That… is very true, I’m afraid.” Heeseung sighs, catching your hand in his. “I’m kinda hungry, right now. Sushi?”

“Sure.”

—

Over the course of your entire life, there’ve only been a handful of times where you’ve been betrayed by people you trusted: first when you were twelve, being wrongly accused of having cheated on a test by your then best friend; second when you were the only one to have been thrown under the bus by people you thought were your close group of friends for smoking weed in your highschool’s bathroom cubicle; and third when you found out that Heeseung had been with Erin during the one-week break in your relationship.

The note passed to you by Erin from earlier in the month stays ripped into pieces in the palm of your hand. You’d forgotten all about it until a few hours ago, and you wished it had stayed that way. But you know by now that things never go your way.

You and Heeseung were on break for about a week, citing that you were not in the mental headspace to be dealing with a relationship at that moment in time because of your slipping grades, and he understandably obliged, even kissing your forehead goodbye as you left his apartment.

Erin’s written confession, if you could even call it that, echoes in your mind like a blaring alarm.

from girlie to girlie, your boyfriend came onto me while you guys were on your little break. must say, your boyfriend is talented at making people cry ;).

All you needed was a week to heal and sort your shit out before you went back into his arms, and he couldn’t even wait that long?

You felt sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to scream your aching heart away, to be left with nothing more than a void. At least then, you would no longer feel the hurt and betrayal Heeseung inflicted upon you with his actions, and the months of torment you’d endured just to seem worthy to stay by his side.

Did he even ever truly love you like he said he did?

The more you dwell on these thoughts, the more you could feel yourself physically slipping into a state of mental numbness as you stayed motionless on your spot on the carpeted floor.

It wouldn’t be until a few more hours later that Heeseung would enter your dorm, tired as ever from his basketball practice. It was routine for him to crash at your dorm on Tuesdays and Fridays—whenever he had basketball practices— because it was more convenient for him to get to his 9am class the next day from your in-campus dorm, compared to his condo that was 20 minutes away. Adding that you gave him the energy he needed for the days ahead, but now you’re contemplating whether that part was even true or not.

“Sweetheart,” he calls out to you from the entrance. “I’ve got to tell you about what happened to Jay at practice today-” he cuts himself short as he spots your leaning figure, head tucked into your knees, surrounded by torn pieces of paper.

“Y/n?” He quickly runs to your side.

“Seungie,” you meekly whisper as you lift your head, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes finally coming into clear view.

“Did something happen? What happened?” His hands make quick work to caress your face, tucking stray pieces of hair behind your ears and wiping tears away with his thumb.

Even after knowing what he had allegedly done behind your back, you couldn’t help but feel your heart pounding. This was the sweet, caring Heeseung you knew and loved. And so the thought that Erin could’ve been lying to you, flitters across your mind and nestles itself there.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” Your voice sounds hoarse and quiet, yet the silent pleading rings deafeningly in your ears. You felt so pathetic crying in your living room about a boy who might’ve technically cheated on you, then finding yourself putty in his hands the moment he shows you the version of truth you’re familiar with.

Why are making up excuses for his behaviour?

Gosh, your roommate would kill you if she knew how much of a loser you’ve become in Heeseung’s presence.

“Of course not, baby,” he pulls you into an embrace. “There’s nothing I could ever lie to you about.” Did this ease your trust issues in any way? No. But it did assure you that Erin was still nothing but a serial liar, wanting nothing more than to see other people’s relationships fall apart for her own selfish entertainment… you think.

You hum into Heeseung’s tweed pullover.

It was always like this. You don’t know how many times you’ve gone through the same thing, and you don’t know how many more times you can go through without fully losing your sanity. But you can’t seem to find it in yourself to pull away, no matter how exhausted your heart and soul becomes.

—

“Can’t believe you stayed with him, even after knowing what he did behind your back.” Erin sneers from beside you, clearly amused by your course of actions these past few weeks.

“Whatever I do is none of your business,” you bite back through your teeth. You’ve never liked Erin, but even more so after the stunt she did that almost cost you your entire relationship with Heeseung. You should’ve known that she never had good intentions to begin with, constantly lying through her teeth. “I know you lied about it.”

She raises an eyebrow at this, “You think I’m lying? Oh baby, you’re really so fucking gullible.” Erin could practically see the cogs turning in your brain, if the furrowing of your brows were anything to go by. “I’m saying that Heeseung has you completely under his thumb, and you’re dumb enough to believe anything and everything he says,” she plays with her pen, swirling it around her finger as she eyes you. “It’s whatever though, Heeseung likes good girls anyways.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I think we both know very well.” She smirks, tapping the pen on her temple once then twice, before shifting in her seat back towards the front of the lecture hall.

Just what was her fucking deal?

It leaves you with more questions than answers, as you watch her diligently jot down notes from beside you. After today, you were for sure going to switch seats because there was just no fucking way you could survive the rest of the year this way.

—

You don’t know how you ended up here. The first minute you were being dumped by Heeseung, and the next you’re waking up with a raging hangover in his best friend's bed.

Heeseung technically didn’t dump you, telling you that he wanted a break the same you did all those months before. And you technically didn't end up in his best friend’s bed by complete choice. You were drunk out of your mind at a party last night, one that your roommate had dragged you to after seeing you in your depressed state for the past week. But no matter the excuse you try to conjure, it still doesn’t excuse the fact that you cheated on your boyfriend.

Your heart beats sporadically at the sight of Sunghoon’s bare back facing you, not because you’re flustered but because you’re instantly hit with the gravity of your own drunken choices.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

With heavy feet, you stumble out of his bed and start navigating through the mess of discarded clothes, and soon after, Sunghoon eventually stirs awake from the ruckus you were unintentionally causing in his shared dorm room. “Y/n?” He groggily calls out to you.

Fuck.

It didn’t take Sunghoon very long to figure out why the fuck you were in his room half-naked, piecing together the clues that lay around the expanse of his dorm. He clearly didn’t need to be a genius like Einstein to figure out that you and him had a drunken one-night stand. You—Heeseung’s girlfriend—and him—Heeseung’s best friend—had spent the night together. Intimately.

Right around the three-second mark, the same level of anxiety sank into his stomach.

Fuck, indeed.

“I made a mistake.” Your voice trembled, tears starting to blur your vision as hot panic courses through you.

“Hey, we were both drunk,” Sunghoon says, sitting up at the sight of you still half-dressed and starting to break down at the foot of his bed. “Heeseung doesn’t have to know about this. We both made a mistake, and don’t blame yourself because you weren’t the only one, okay?”

“But, fuck, it doesn’t change the fact that I cheated on my boyfriend. What the fuck was I thinking?” Your fingers fly to tousle with your hair, pulling at the roots to try and ease the pounding in your head.

You weren’t any better than all the people you were disgusted by, seeing as you’ve stopped as low. Memories from last night flash through your mind, as if to haunt you; the party, the flashing lights, the drinks, the kissing, the skin against skin. You felt so fucking sick to your stomach.

“We didn’t mean to sleep with each other. We were just drunk.” Sunghoon reasons, but no amount of gaslighting could change what’s already been done.

You were either going to live with this aching thorn by your side forever, or own up to your mistakes like a normal human being with a moral compass. With how deep you’ve fallen for Heeseung, you couldn’t bear losing him, yet both options entailed losing him one way or another.

It’s best not knowing what could potentially hurt, right?

Right.

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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months ago

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A Friend in the Dark Part II

Summary: After receiving an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night, Ari's not going to let anything stop him from getting to you. But will he make it in time? Takes place directly after the events in A Friend in the Dark: Part I.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, References to Home Invasion, Scared Reader, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner, who helped me come up with the opening. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari Levinson’s P.O.V.

Although it feels like hours, it’s really only a matter of minutes before Ari finds himself pulling onto your street. Not wanting to call attention to himself, he immediately kills his headlights before throwing his truck into neutral, quietly gliding down the block.

He already knows which home is yours – the one with the rose bushes out front. Stopping a couple houses down, the bounty hunter swiftly exits his vehicle. After triple-checking the gun in his waistband, he knows it’s time to make his way to you.

Ari moves with lethal grace, his corded muscles tense and ready to strike should an enemy make the mistake of crossing his path. As he gets closer, he spots Milton’s cruiser parked a ways down the street.

Perfect.

The burly lawman tosses a brief glance over his shoulder, just to make sure he isn’t being followed – the last thing he needed was someone sneaking up behind him. A blow to the back of the head could be deadly, even for someone as big as him.

He does a swift scan of your front yard, noting that nothing appears out of place. Holding his breath, Ari tunes his ears to the silence, quieting the sound of his own heartbeat as he wills his military instincts to take over. During his brief conversation with you, you’d said that the intruder had been at your back door.

Which meant that was exactly where he needed to be. Heaven help the fucker if he was dumb enough to still be there, scaring the shit out of his girl.

He draws his gun and dispenses the safety, holding it low with both hands as he stealthily makes his way around the side of your house. It was time to confront whoever was out there, hiding in the dark like a coward.

“Gotchu, motherfucker!” He barks, aiming his weapon in the air.

Except there’s nobody there.

Although he’s surprised, he remains on high alert. Keeping his head on a swivel, he slowly climbs the steps leading to your back porch. He takes a moment to examine the door, smoothing his fingers along the cracked, splintered wood. The frame itself is also bent and hopelessly warped.

It didn’t take an expert to see that someone had indeed been here at one point. Most likely trying to kick the damned thing down. The whole thing appeared to be hanging on by a thread as it was.

“Shit.” Ari hisses under his breath. Raking an agitated hand through his hair, he pulls out his phone and dials your number once again. “C’mon, baby. Answer the fucking phone for me.”

Why the fuck weren’t you picking up? Had the intruder managed to make their way inside some other way? Ice fills his veins at the prospect of someone holding you captive inside. Scaring you. Hurting you.

If that something happened to you because he hadn’t gotten here fast enough, Ari would never be able to forgive himself.

And just where the fuck was Milton? Out in the woods somewhere holding his dick?

At that moment, Ari makes a snap decision. He was determined to get into that house. Frankly, he’d already wasted enough time out here hemming and hawing as it was. Taking a step back and leveling the door with the most powerful kick he can muster, sending it flying open with a loud thunk.

Taking no time to celebrate, the bounty hunter goes to make his way inside only to duck when he notices an object come flying at his head at the last second. Thankfully, it connects with the door frame instead of his skull.

Your P.O.V.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You screech, swinging your bat wildly at the large figure that just tried to break their way into your home. “I’m crazy and I’ll kill you! Lord, help me, I’ll do it!” You continue swinging, attempting to keep the intruder at bay on your front porch until help arrives.

“Wait – stop!” The intruder pleads, throwing up a hand in the dark as his weapon goes flying.

“I’ve called the cops, you pig-fuckin’ bastard.” You spit, raising your Louisville Slugger high. They’re on their way and –”

“Goddamn it, baby!” Ari roars, scrambling away from the assault. “It’s me! I am the cops!”

That’s enough to knock the wind out of your sails almost immediately. Blood roaring in your ears, you belatedly realize that you’d almost just turned the very man who came to rescue you into a frickin’ vegetable.

“Ari?” You whisper, finally allowing the bat to fall limply at your feet. “Oh…oh God.”

For a brief moment, all you can do is stare at each other. You, relieved to see him here. Him, relieved to see you unhurt. And it’s only as that feeling of relief begins to settle in is that you begin to shake. Covering your mouth with trembling hands, you watch the bounty hunter stand and collect his gun, before turning on the safety and tucking it back into the security of his jeans.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

You don’t think. Don’t question. Instead you just launch yourself into his arms, praying that he’ll catch you.

Of course he does.

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” He growls after a beat, pulling away to assess you for injuries. His large, warm hands make quick work of checking you out before gently cupping your face. “Huh? Why the fuck did you go quiet on me like that?”

You rest your smaller hands atop his as Ari brushes a feather-light kiss along your brow. His big body feels so tense beneath your touch. He’s wrapped so tightly, you’re almost certain he’s bound to go off at any moment.

“I…” You swallow thickly as you will yourself to stop shaking. “I was trying to use the element of surprise. I took my phone with me but…when he started really trying to bust down the door I knew I had to do something, so I –”

“FREEZE!” A new voice yells, taking you both by surprise. Your bounty hunter immediately spins on his heel, pushing you behind him to protect you from view.

Fucking Milton had finally arrived. A day late and a dollar short.

“Jesus Christ, asshole.” Ari snarls, briefly raising his hands in the air long enough for the officer to recognize the fact that there was no discernable threat. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Got held up on the way here. I’ll, uh, tell you about it later, Levinson.” Is all he says, holstering his weapon. “You okay there, darlin?”

Later he would pull the lawman aside and let him know that someone had tried to hold him up. Make it difficult for him to get here as fast as the situation had warranted. It wasn’t quite suspicious, but still odd nevertheless.

“She’s fine.” Ari answers on your behalf, circling a possessive arm around your waist. “Fine as can be, anyway.” He continues when you nod at his side. “Almost took my head off with a baseball bat before you got here.”

“Well, I reckon I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of The Creek’s champion softball players.” Milton responds with a tired grin, his hand coming up to massage the back of his neck. “How bad’s the damage to the door?”

“Eh…” Your bounty hunter attempts to shoo you inside with a guiding hand. “Whoever our guy is did a pretty good job damn near kicking the thing off the hinges. I just finished the job. I just wanna get her indoors so we can – wait.”

Ari stops cold, his entire body going stiff as if he’d only just realized something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, turning to face him, briefly halting his attempts to move you along.

“You said you just got here?” You know the question is meant solely for Milton.

“Yeah.” The officer responds, clearly perplexed by where Ari seems to be going with this. “Why?”

“Baby, you ain’t wearin’ nothing’ but a gown and slippers.” He murmurs, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Stop fightin’ me and go inside where it’s warm. Please.”

It’s an order, that much you can tell. But as much as you want to protest, you decide to do as you’re bid, leaving the two lawmen alone.

Just this once.

“Good girl.” He praises you, still keeping his voice low even as his words warm your belly. “We’ll be along in a moment.”

Ari’s P.O.V.

“What’s up, Levinson?” Milton tries again once you’re safely out of earshot.

“When I pulled in, there was a cruiser already parked halfway down the block. Assumed it was you and kept it moving.”

“That’s awful strange.”

“I know.” Ari grunts, hands on his hips. “Did you call this out over the radio?”

“Well, yeah.” The officer shrugs as he wracks his brain for more details. “But nobody responded. Figured it would just be me and you and that would be enough.”

“Well, clearly someone else heard it.” Your bounty hunter snaps. “You didn’t see anyone when you pulled up? They weren’t still parked there?”

“No.” Milton scrubs a hand along his jaw. “I came the opposite way you did. Only saw your truck.” Turning on his flashlight he flashes it towards the woods beckoning along the edge of your property. “And did you see anyone trying to break-in when you got here?”

“No. But the damage was already done.”

“Think you chased ‘em off?”

“Maybe.” Ari murmurs, his tone rife with suspicion. “But I doubt it. Somethin’ tells me the fucker dipped before I even stepped foot on the lawn.”

“Fucking. Awesome.” The officer blows out a tired breath. Turning off his flashlight, he lightly claps the other man on the shoulder. “Look. We ain’t gonna get anywhere with this shit tonight.”

“Yeah.” He drags out the word. “Yeah, I know.” God, he needed a fucking cigarette.

“It’s late. I still need to get her statement. We…we can pick this up in the morning.”

With nothing else left to say, the confused and frustrated men head for your front porch. Regardless of wherever Milton stood on the subject, Ari vows to get to the bottom of this bullshit.

But first he wanted – no, he needed – to see to you.

Your P.O.V.

It’s nearly 5:00am before Officer Milton walks out your front door, leaving you alone with the one man who had the power to keep you off balance. Right now the two of you are sitting in your kitchen, each sipping a mug of hot tea with an added splash of whiskey.

Ari had been quiet for most of your conversation with the young officer, only interjecting where and when he felt it necessary. He’d also fetched you tissues when you started to cry, and even held your hand during the…more harrowing portion of your evening.

“Thank you.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally break the silence. “For coming tonight.”

He wants to tell you that he’ll always come, whenever you call. But he can’t quite seem to summon up the words. So instead he simply settles on: “You’re welcome.”

“You…you don’t have to stay.”

“I know.”

But Ari makes no move to get up. He’s not sure he’s capable of it. Not with you sitting here looking every inch the fragile little bird that you are. Now he knew that you, his woman, had two sides.

You were either his firebrand of a Duchess, or his sweet, soft little Bird. But what you didn’t know is that he was absolutely willing and wanting to keep you. Both of you.

Clearing his throat, your bounty hunter leans back in his chair, his turbulent blue gaze clashing with yours. “You’re gonna need someone to fix that door.” His tone comes off a little more gruff than he intends.

With a sigh, you come to rest your head on your hand. “I’m afraid it’s too early for me to call the insurance company just yet.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

His response catches you completely off guard. You stare back at him with wide eyes, silently wondering how much the whiskey was talking.

“Sweetheart.” Once again you find your hand encased in the warmth of his, squeezing gently. “It’s gonna take the insurance company days, if not weeks, to handle this. You and I both know you can’t go that long without a proper door.”

“But I still need to report it…” You protest, hating the fact that you can’t get your brain to work as fast as you would like.

“So do that. But in the meantime, I’ve got a buddy who owes me a favor. I’ll get him and his boys out here and we’ll get you fixed up good and proper.”

“I can’t afford that.”

“Did anyone ask you to pay?” He responds, making it known that he had it in him to be just as stubborn as you. Releasing his grip, he scoots away from the table. Standing up, he picks up your mugs before depositing them in the sink.

“Ari.” While you mean to sound firm, his name comes out more like a whine, making him smile.

“How about you get on up to bed, hm?” He murmurs when he sees your head start to dip. Now that all that adrenaline had run its course, you were plum exhausted. “I’ll close up down here. Maybe find some tarp to put over that back door until we can get you the real thing.”

“You’re so bossy.”

“Hmph.” Ari grunts as he helps you stand. “Afraid it’ll only get worse the more I have to repeat myself.”

Your sweet, yet incredibly stubborn lawman runs an affectionate hand over your curls. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, burying your face in his chest to inhale his scent. And even though part of you is waiting for him to push you away, you struggle not to melt on the spot when you feel him press a tender kiss on top of your head.

“Off to bed with you, little Bird.” He rumbles after a minute, knowing this has already gone on longer than it should’ve. “Get a move-on, now.”

You’re in such a haze that you don’t even bother to call him out over yet another stupid nickname. First Duchess and now this? You were gonna give this handsome jerk a piece of your mind after you got some sleep. Perhaps you’d threaten to peck his eyes out or something…

Leaning on him even as you plot, you don’t balk as he leads you toward the stairs. Nor do you complain when you feel a territorial hand settle on your hip as he guides you to the foot of your bedroom where he watches you climb into bed. And you decide to ignore the way your belly flutters when you hear him calling you his “good girl” one last time.

END

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grandline-fics · 1 year ago

Note

hellooo!!! i really liked your unconscious protector story so i wanted to ask if you could make a story about luffy and zoro in which the reader has the most beautiful smile ever and they would do anything just to see them smile

i think it would be really cute and fluffy😭😭

DESCRIPTION: Your smile is all they want to see

WARNINGS: fluff central, established relationships this time

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro

WORDS: 1,030

A/N: Thank you so much for the request. I'm still sick so I hope this turned out to your liking! I decided to do it a little differently for these guys but hopefully it still works

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

The first time Luffy saw you smile was the sole motivation he had to try and convince you to join his crew. It was as simple as that. Sure you were a good fighter and someone he was willing to help when you first met but he had been more than happy to just leave things there when he and the rest of the Straw Hats were ready to move on but then you just had to smile. Finally able to express just how grateful you were to him and the others you broke out into the biggest, warmest smile and wished him a safe journey. Only it caught you and everyone else by surprise when Luffy’s hands latched onto yours and he stared intensely at you begging you to come with them. While you were thrown briefly you couldn’t deny the urge to see the world and seeing how sincere Luffy was you could only say yes and follow him loyally.

Since then he made it his own personal mission to get you to smile at him at least once a day. It was almost like it was as necessary as his meals, sleeping, and water. If he didn’t get a dose of your smile he wasn’t his usual bouncy self. The only time it came close to a full on disaster was when the crew split up into two groups on an island and didn’t regroup until late that night. When you returned you were startled by Luffy tackling you to the ground, shouting your name. Since you were used to your Captain’s impulsive and energetic nature you could only reason his actions were fuelled by excitement. So you could only grin at him and greet him with a warm “I missed you too, Luffy.” After seeing that which he’d been deprived from all day his shoulder’s visibly relaxed and he pulled you into a tight hug. Those in the group that had to suffer their Captain’s foul mood made an unanimous decision to never go with Luffy again unless you were joining them.

After you and Luffy became an item, he found it so much better because then he could see you smile all the time. You were both practically inseparable and while it was easy to get you to smile before by just pointing out things that excited him he found that being a couple brought new ways to see the thing about you that just warmed him and sustained him so completely. Getting to sit side by side with you on the Sunny with his arm around you and talking about anything and everything always brought a smile to your face, unable to believe how lucky you were. Even when you asked him why it was you he wanted, Luffy could only tickle your sides lightly until you broke out into a laugh and bright grin. “That’s why. It’s my favourite thing in the world.”

ZORO

“Ugh he’s in a bad mood again.” Usopp sighed and you looked across the Sunny to see your boyfriend doing pushups. Silently you looked at the focused determination on his face that the others would mistake to be one of his ‘come near me and I’ll cut you’ moments. However this wasn’t one of those moments. You bit back the smile fighting to creep across your features and you nodded slowly, lightly tapping the sniper’s arm you gave him a convincing reassuring smile and as you walked away you promised “I’ll speak with him.” You knew Zoro was just too focused on his training but you just didn’t want anyone else to bother him. In moments like these when the other’s were giving your boyfriend a wide berth you liked to take advantage of it and have some alone time with him.

Just as his body was close to the deck you lay over him abruptly, knowing that your added weight wouldn’t faze him. You grinned when he paused his workout, body locked in the position. Draping your arm over his shoulder you lay your cheek against his head and grinned. “Apparently you’re in a bad mood.” You told him when he resumed his pushups and made a small uninterested huff.“And you’re risking yourself by being in my very presence?” he asked in a low voice, knowing you were the only one that could hear him and with the perception that he was in a bad mood, no one would be looking his way which meant he could smile a little more openly.

“Oh don’t worry about me,” you mused. “I know how to defeat you, Demon Pirate Hunter in one move.” Now Zoro chuckled, his workout promptly forgotten and you could tell by his posture that he was done. With a knowing hum you got off of him to let him stand and reach for a towel to wipe his face.

“One move huh?” Zoro asked, throwing his towel across his shoulders, finding he was already missing the warmth of your brief, distracting embrace. Now he’d just have to settle with you standing in front of him, relaxed and playfully regarding him with your best imitation of his usually stoic expression. “Care to demonstrate?”

“I don’t know…it is pretty powerful. Promise you can handle it?” Zoro rolled his good eye, indulging you. Slowly he folded his arms across his chest and made a single gesture with his finger, signalling you to hit him with this so called powerful move. Unsurprisingly you accepted the challenge.

Stepping forward you placed your hands on Zoro’s arms and peered up at him making sure his gaze was focussed on your face. Then you beamed up at him with a bright smile that only grew when you felt him tense immediately. “You’re bounty went up again! Congrats, babe!” You cheered, watching in satisfaction when Zoro quickly lowered his head to press it against your shoulder, his arms pulling you close. “Damn that smile of yours.” He grumbled lightly. As much as he hated the idea of being vulnerable in most aspects of his life, he couldn’t hate this.

“You know you love it.” You grinned. He did, he really did.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fic #luffy x reader #luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #one piece imagines #luffy #one piece luffy #one piece fluff

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

Note

Hi so I wanted to ask, how do I write a confident character? (Specifically one in high standing, like a prince or a king)

10 Traits for Confident Characters

1 - Confident Body Language - Confident people display good posture (standing up straight, shoulders back, chin up), strong eye contact, and body language that appears positive and secure.

2 - Listening More Than Speaking - Babbling, interrupting people, and monopolizing conversation are signs of insecurity, so confident people tend to listen more than they speak.

3 - They Don't Seek Validation From Others - Confident people know who they are, what they can do, and know their own value, so they don't seek validation from others.

4 - They Don't Overthink Things - Confident people are good at evaluating a situation and making a decision rather than fretting over the different choices.

5 - They're Not Judgmental - Passing judgment and being critical of others isn't something confident people do, because they don't need to lift themselves up by knocking others down.

6 - They Speak with Purpose - Confident people are clear about their feelings and desires. They say what they mean and mean what they say. They don't tend to hem and haw or say things like "um" or "uh" when they speak.

7 - They Accept Responsibility for Their Mistakes - Confident people don't deny responsibility or blame others for their own mistakes. They own up to what they did wrong, apologize, do what they can to rectify the situation, and vow to do better.

8 - They Take Calculated Risks - When opportunities come along, confident people aren't afraid to take them, even if there are risks. They just analyzed the pros vs the cons first to make sure the risk is worth the potential reward.

9 - They Lift Others Up - Not only do confident people not tear others down, they actively lift people up and celebrate the people around them. They are fully aware of the contributions made by others and are happy to recognize them for it.

10 - They Ask for Help When Needed - Confident people know there's no shame in asking for help when it's needed, so they are able to ask for assistance without feeling bad, guilty, or ashamed. They also see the value in learning from others who may have abilities and skills they do not.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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batmanlovesnirvana · 2 months ago

Text

— ‘the frenchwoman.’

RUPERT CAMPBELL-BLACK x FEM!READER

words : 4k

synopsis : You’re no journalist, but a last-minute favor thrusts you into an interview with Rupert Campbell-Black, the infamous Olympian-turned-MP. You hate everything aristocratic, a sentiment no doubt rooted in your French ancestry and your country’s history with the elite. Still, the lines between duty and danger blur with every word.

A/N : English isn’t my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. I’m not entirely sure what I just wrote, but I hope it’s still enjoyable! :)

THE RUTSHIRE COUNTRYSIDE unfolded before you like a scene from a postcard: undulating hills, pristine fields, and the occasional splash of wildflowers in vivid hues.

It was undeniably beautiful, yet to someone who’d grown up in Paris and now lived in London, where beauty was always wrapped in the chaotic buzz of life, it felt unsettlingly perfect—almost too serene.

You weren’t a journalist—not by any stretch. Your expertise lay in veterinary medicine, not in chasing headlines or conducting interviews.

But when your friend had called, her voice trembling with desperation and barely holding back tears as she tried to explain why she couldn’t make it to England for an urgent assignment for her boss at a high-profile media firm, you hadn’t been able to say no. She’d stammered through her plea, insisting it was a last-minute decision, that none of her colleagues could take her place, and that you were the only French person she knew living in England—making you the perfect stand-in.

She wasn’t famous, but the company she worked for certainly was. Thankfully, they didn’t have a photo of her on file, just the knowledge that a French journalist was coming to interview the infamous womanizing MP.

You fit the role perfectly—or at least well enough to fool them.

So, with a deep breath and every ounce of courage you could summon, you stepped into her shoes, ready to play the part.

The house—no, the manor—loomed ahead, a lavish testament to old money and unchecked arrogance.

Stepping out of your worn-down car, your high heels crunched against the polished gravel of the estate’s driveway of the Campbell-Black estate.

Already, you regretted your choice of footwear, but it was necessary—you had to look the part.

Dressed in a sharp, polished red blouse and matching skirt, you quickly verified that the notebook containing the questions your friend had painstakingly prepared was still tucked safely in your bag. Adjusting it under your arm, your fingers tightened momentarily as you glanced at the grand manor towering before you.

God, you just hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself—or blow the cover entirely. The sheer weight of history and expectation seemed to hang in the air, pressing down on you as you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the charade that lay ahead.

“Ah, and here she is.”

The voice, smooth and laced with amusement, came from your left. You turned to see him leaning against a sleek sports car, arms crossed and radiating an air of smug privilege.

Rupert Campbell-Black.

He towered over most, tall and broad-shouldered, with an air of infuriating self-assurance that seemed to demand attention without even trying. His smile, sharp and knowing, was the kind that could either make you want to roll your eyes in disbelief or, if you were feeling particularly bold, slap it right off his face.

Everything about him screamed aristocrat, from the crisply tailored blazer that looked like it had been made for a throne to the way he carried himself with an effortless arrogance, as if he owned the world and was simply letting the rest of us pretend we had a say in it.

It wasn't that you hated him—not exactly. It was more the idea of him, the things he represented, the polished, perfect image he projected of old money, entitlement, and an almost offensive ease with the luxuries of life.

You despised that.

But your irritation with him had mostly been built from the things you’d read in the tabloids. You didn’t want to buy into the gossip, but it was hard not to when everything you read painted him as the worst kind of privileged, pompous snob. Still, like everyone else, you couldn’t help but feel a certain curiosity toward him.

And when you saw him in person—standing there with his smirk and that goddamn perfectly disheveled hair—you had to admit, he was more handsome than you'd imagined. The kind of handsome that made you want to look away just so he wouldn’t notice how much you were looking.

Of course, you wouldn't let him know that.

“You must be the journalist,” he said, his voice smooth and rich, like the kind of tone one might use when speaking to someone far beneath them.

He straightened up, his movements calculated and assured as he began to saunter toward you with that predatory grace, as though he had just spotted an interesting mouse.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with deliberate calm. “And you must be the aristocrat who thinks it’s still 1815,” you fired back, taking in his perfectly polished shoes, the tailored cut of his suit, the way he walked as if he were the only person in the room worth noticing. You couldn't help but scan him from head to toe, that critical, discerning eye you had well-practiced over years of dealing with people like him.

He halted in his tracks, his smirk widening as though your words had delivered precisely the challenge he’d been anticipating. “French, then?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of amusement, underpinned by that ever-present air of casual superiority.

Of course, Rupert already knew the journalist was French—he would have done his homework before agreeing to the interview. No, this was just him, toying with you.

“Oui,” you replied with a quick glance and a little more bite than usual, your arms still crossed tightly over your chest. "Is that going to be a problem?" you added, the challenge in your voice clear, daring him to say something, anything, that would prove your impression of him wrong—or, more likely, confirm it.

“Not at all,” he said smoothly, with a flourish of his hand toward the house. His voice carried a casual, almost theatrical quality as if he were performing for an audience. “In fact, it’s quite refreshing. Most journalists they send are painfully polite. You, on the other hand, seem… different.”

You rolled your eyes, a small, exasperated laugh escaping you. “If by ‘different,’ you mean I’m not here to stroke your ego, then yes, I suppose I am.”

Rupert’s laugh rang out, deep and assured, as if he were privy to some private joke. The sound both irked and intrigued you. Without missing a step, he fell into stride beside you as you neared the entrance. “Miss Duvallet, is it?” he asked.

You opened your mouth, ready to correct him with your real name and a sharp insult, but then it hit you—you were supposed to be Miss Duvallet.

Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, you simply nodded and replied with a curt, “Yes.”

“Tell me,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, taking on a hint of curiosity, “why take this assignment if you’re so clearly opposed to everything I represent?”

You shot him a look, your response as blunt as ever. “Work,” you said simply, shrugging as if that were the only answer that mattered. “Not all of us have the luxury of inheriting a manor.”

“Touché,” he replied, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, before he opened the door for you, ushering you inside.

The manor greeted you with all the grandeur you’d expected—high, vaulted ceilings, furniture so polished it seemed to shine even in the dim light, and walls adorned with heavy portraits of ancestors whose eyes followed you as you moved. It was all so… much.

You paused, taking it all in, trying to stifle the small twinge of awe that prickled at your insides.

“Impressed?” Rupert asked, his voice light with amusement, clearly savoring the effect his surroundings had on you.

Yes, you were impressed. It was a beautiful place, no denying that. But you would never let him know that.

You glanced at him, your expression flat, even though a part of you was bristling with the impulse to give a biting reply. “If by ‘impressed,’ you mean mildly nauseated, then yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Rupert’s laughter rang out again, deeper this time, full of genuine surprise. The sound was so unexpected that it caught you off guard, making you wonder if you had misjudged him. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, clearly entertained by your response.

Shaking your head, you redirected the conversation. “So, where do we start? I assume you’ve prepared some kind of agenda.”

“Of course,” he said, leading you down a grand hallway. “But first, let me clear the air about one thing.”

You stopped, turning to face him. His tone, while still light, carried a sharper edge.

“I don’t know what you’ve read about me, but I’m not quite as terrible as I’m made out to be.”

You tilted your head, a small, skeptical smile playing on your lips. “Let me guess. You’re not like the other rich men?”

His grin widened, wolfish and unapologetic. “I’m worse.”

You hummed, clearly skeptic about him. "Very well, Mr Campbell-Black."

“Rupert,” he corrected smoothly. “If we’re going to spend time together, you might as well call me by my name.”

“Fine,” you said with a shrug, keeping your tone professional. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m here to work, not to feed into whatever thing you think this is.”

“Perish the thought,” he replied with mock solemnity. “But I should warn you—things around here can get… unpredictable.”

You sighed, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. Already, you were questioning your life choices. “Wonderful,” you muttered under your breath, yet you forced a polite, practiced smile—one honed through years of dealing with difficult interview subjects.

Rupert led you into another room, as grandiose as the first, if not more so. He referred to it as the green tea room, a name that seemed almost as carefully curated as the room itself. Emerald green walls framed the space, accented by high ceilings and sculptures that, if you had to guess, cost more than a year’s salary. The furniture—rich, heavy pieces that seemed to whisper of luxury—only reinforced the wealth that dripped from every corner of the manor.

He guided you to a plush, velvet-red canapé, the cushions soft beneath you as you sat. “Drink?” Rupert asked smoothly, uncapping a whiskey bottle and beginning to pour himself a glass.

“No, thank you,” you answered, your tone firm.

But Rupert, ever the charming host, wasn’t easily deterred. “Not even wine?” he pressed, his gaze flicking toward you with mild amusement.

“I don’t drink,” you replied, trying to maintain your focus.

He raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. “Tea, then? I can call the maid to prepare us some,” he offered, as if suggesting something as simple as breathing.

You leaned back slightly, your patience thinning. “With all due respect, Rupert, I’m here to discuss politics. Shall we start?”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed his face, his posture shifting as he registered your refusal. His usual easygoing charm was momentarily unsettled. “Straight to business?” he asked, amusement creeping into his voice. “Not even a little foreplay? Do all French journalists lack a sense of occasion, or is it just you?”

You didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze with an evenness that only made his grin widen. Then, uou inhaled deeply, willing yourself to remain professional. “Again, If you think I’m here to flirt or fawn, you’re mistaken. Let’s just say I’m not your usual… audience.”

Rupert’s laugh was low and lazy, like a cat stretching in the sun. “Oh, I like you. Sharp. Refreshing, really. Most people who visit spend the first ten minutes fawning over the place.”

“Then let me save us both the trouble,” you said crisply, gesturing vaguely at the ornate surroundings. “It’s very big. Very… lovely. Now, can we start ?”

Perching on the edge of the overstuffed armchair, you pulled out your notepad, determined to stay focused.

“So,” you began in a neutral tone, “the Tory Party. What inspired your allegiance to them?”

Rupert leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed, yet his confidence radiated with every movement.“Allegiance? That’s a bit strong for my taste,” he said with a faint smile. “Let’s just say I appreciate certain efficiencies, the kind that get results. I’ve always been drawn to winning teams, the ones that know how to play the game and come out on top.”

His eyes sharpened, the casual tone shifting into something more calculating. After a brief pause, he swirled the liquor in his glass, the crystal catching the light. “And as for ‘inspiration,’ that’s a bit too lofty for me. I’ve always believed in the importance of tradition, in maintaining order. That’s what keeps everything running smoothly.”

You jotted his response down but didn’t look up, deliberately keeping your tone sharp. “Do you think the party reflects the realities of modern Britain?”

His eyes sparkled with a challenge as he met your gaze. “That depends. Whose reality are we talking about? But you’re French, aren’t you? Tell me—what do you think of it all?”

You met his gaze without flinching. “I find the British fascination with monarchy and class structure quite intriguing, especially for a country that prides itself on being ‘modern,’” you finished, emphasizing the word with two fingers forming quotation marks.

His smile sharpened, full of challenge. “Careful, you’re starting to sound like a revolutionary.”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “Don’t worry. I left the guillotines at home.”

“For now,” he added, his grin widening.

You rolled your eyes, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “If we’re done with the banter, let’s get back to the topic. Do you believe your policies address the needs of modern Britain, or are they focused on preserving this… tradition and order you mentioned?”

His expression grew thoughtful, though the amused glint in his eye remained. “A good politician knows how to balance the old and the new,” he said. “The past is what grounds us, but the future… that’s what keeps things interesting.”

You jotted down his words, biting back the urge to challenge him further. Rupert Campbell-Black might be as infuriating as he was charming, but he was certainly keeping your interview lively.

“Are you always like this, or do you save the charm for interviews?”

“Only when the company’s as delightful as this,” he replied smoothly, leaning forward slightly. “But tell me, do all French journalists enjoy poking the British aristocracy, or is that just your particular specialty?”

You raised an eyebrow, refusing to be drawn in. “I ask questions. Whether or not they’re uncomfortable is up to you.”

His chuckle was low and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. “Fair enough. Though I do hope this isn’t all business. You’d miss the best parts.”

You ignored the bait, your pen poised over the notepad. “Let’s stick to the topic. How do you think the Tory Party’s policies address the concerns of everyday citizens?”

Rupert tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he responded. “That’s a rather broad question. Perhaps you’d like to narrow it down. Or would you prefer I give you the polished party line?”

"Why don’t you surprise me?” you countered.

His lips twitched in a faint smirk, but he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as if weighing his options.

"Minister of Sport—it’s quite the title. How did that come about?” you pressed, switching tactics.

He relaxed further, his expression a mix of amusement and pride. “I suppose you could say it was a natural fit. My background in racing and polo gave me some credibility, and my, shall we say, people skills helped me secure the role.”

You snorted softly, scribbling in your notebook. “People skills. Is that what we’re calling it?"

“Well,” he said with a self-assured grin, “knowing which hands to shake and which backs to pat is half the battle in politics, isn’t it? Or did you imagine my ascent was purely a matter of sporting excellence?”

You smirked, meeting his gaze head-on. “I imagine most ascents, political or otherwise, involve a little grease on the ladder.”

His laughter was warm, though tinged with challenge. “I suppose your right. Do you apply the same cynicism to journalism? Or do you reserve that for the likes of me?”

“That depends,” you shot back lightly. “Are you going to give me a real answer, or keep playing the charming aristocrat?”

“Ah, but why not both?” he replied smoothly, his grin widening, leaning slightly forward. “I’ve always believed in a balance between charm and substance. Something I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”

You gave a small, knowing nod. "I’m starting to see that."

"Careful," he warned, though his tone was light. “I might start to think you’re underestimating me.”

“Never,” you said, matching his smirk. “But I am curious—what’s your vision for British sport? Surely it’s not all polo matches and champagne receptions.”

Rupert’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of genuine focus. “It’s about more than just the elite sports, though they’re important. Grassroots programs, improving facilities, getting kids involved in physical activity—that’s where the real work is. If we want to compete on the world stage, we need to start at the bottom and build up.”

It was an unexpectedly thoughtful answer, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook. “And yet, critics have accused you of focusing too much on prestige projects—Wembley renovations, international events, things that benefit the few rather than the many. How do you respond to that?”

He chuckled, but there was a sharpness to his gaze. “Critics always find something to complain about. But let’s be clear—those ‘prestige projects’ bring in revenue, jobs, and attention. They’re investments, not indulgences.”

You tapped your pen against your notepad. “Fair point, but how do you balance that with ensuring access for underprivileged communities? Because from where I’m sitting, the gap between elite and grassroots sports seems to be widening.”

Rupert’s jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d pushed too hard. Then he nodded, as if conceding the point. “It’s a fair criticism. And it’s something I’m working on. But change takes time, and unfortunately, not everyone has the patience for that.”

You leaned forward, deciding to test the waters further. “And does your political affiliation ever get in the way? The Conservative Party hasn’t exactly been known for prioritizing social programs.”

His laugh was low and sardonic. “There it is! The classic dig at the Tories. Tell me again, do all French journalists come armed with clichés, or is it just you?”

You shrugged, unfazed. “I call it like I see it.”

“Well,” he said, his tone softening, “to answer your question—yes, politics complicates things. But if you spend too much time worrying about what everyone else thinks, you’ll never get anything done. My job is to fight for what I believe in, even if it ruffles a few feathers.”

“And what do you believe in?” you asked, genuinely curious now.

He hesitated, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing his face. “Opportunity,” he said finally. “The chance for everyone—no matter where they come from—to excel at something. Whether it’s sport, business, or, hell, journalism.”

You arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t peg you for an idealist.”

“Don’t let it get out,” he replied with a grin. “It would ruin my reputation.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not in the habit of sharing state secrets—yet.”

Rupert chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Good to know. I do have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

You smirked, tapping your pen against the notepad. “And what exactly does that reputation entail? The charming, polo-playing, politician with a knack for public appearances?”

His eyes twinkled, but there was a hint of seriousness behind his smile. “I’d say it’s more about the vision—being able to see the bigger picture and making things happen, no matter how tough it gets. The rest is just...window dressing.”

You studied him, weighing his words. “So, you’re not just about the photo ops and the VIP events?”

“Not by a long shot,” he said, his tone firm. “But sometimes, you need the spotlight to shine on the issues that matter. If it means people pay attention for a moment, then so be it.”

You nodded, impressed despite yourself. “Okay. But what happens when the spotlight moves on to the next shiny object?”

Rupert’s gaze softened, his eyes narrowing just slightly as if he was weighing your words carefully. “Then you keep working, quietly if necessary, until the next opportunity comes along. The real work doesn’t stop just because the cameras are elsewhere.”

You held his gaze for a moment longer, feeling the weight of the silence stretch between you both.

Then, with a deliberate motion, you snapped your notebook shut, the sound cutting through the still air like a signal.

Rising to your feet, you extended your hand, offering a final gesture of professionalism. “Thank you, sir, for the meeting.”

He looked at your hand for a heartbeat before raising an eyebrow, his voice tinged with amusement. “We’re back on formalities, then?”

“The interview is over,” you said simply, your voice unwavering, though there was a subtle shift in the air around you. You felt the pull of something lingering, a moment that hadn’t quite finished yet.

But then, in a smooth, almost predatory motion, he reached for your hand. Instead of shaking it, he pressed it gently to his lips, his breath warm against your skin. It was an act of such quiet intimacy that it caught you off guard, the sudden closeness making your pulse quicken.

For a split second, you hesitated, caught between politeness and a strange surge of discomfort. But before you could think too much about it, you jerked your hand away, the movement sharp, almost defiant.

Rupert chuckled lowly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Touchy, aren’t we?” he remarked, the words laced with amusement but underpinned with something else, something harder.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you turned away, taking a breath to steady yourself.

The conversation, the unspoken tension—it was all unraveling, leaving behind the brittle veneer of professionalism that had kept you in check.

Despite your protests, Rupert insisted in accompanied you to the grand entrance of the Campbell-Black estate, his presence beside you unexpectedly warm despite his usual aloofness.

There was a slight tension in the air, an unspoken undercurrent that made the walk feel longer than it should have.

Perhaps it was the way his casual remarks seemed to chip away at your defenses, or maybe it was something in the way his eyes lingered on you just a second longer than necessary. You couldn’t decide.

“So,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, “you’re really not going to tell me anything about your life in Paris?”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the sudden shift. “Paris?” you teased, a grin forming on your lips. “Do you know that I live in England? In a town, not far from London.”

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose Paris could get a little too chaotic. But I imagine life in an English town must be… more peaceful?”

You shrugged playfully. “Peaceful, yes. Maybe too peaceful. I mean, quiet streets are more my speed than the… vibrance of Paris.”

He smiled, clearly amused.

Before you could reply, a loud bark interrupted the moment, followed by the pitter-patter of paws on the marble floor. Two large, slobbering dogs came bounding around the corner of the hall, tails wagging enthusiastically.

They spotted you instantly, and before you could react, one of them lunged toward you, nose twitching excitedly.

You froze, your eyes wide and your heart pounding. Dogs. You hated dogs. It was strange, considering your work as a veterinarian, but when it came to dogs, you always braced yourself. Most of the time, they were calm, and if not, someone was there to help. But seven dogs charging straight at you? Yeah, no.

“Woah!” you squealed, taking an instinctive step backward, hands raised in a panic. “Oh my God—”

Rupert’s laughter boomed through the hallway, but there was no mockery in it, just pure amusement. He quickly stepped in front of you, guiding the dogs back with a firm but gentle hand. “Sorry about them. They’re a bit enthusiastic.”

You were still frozen, trying to suppress the irrational panic building in your chest. “I—I’m not really… a dog person,” you managed, your voice tight.

He raised an eyebrow, a playful curiosity in his gaze. “Really? Then what do you like?”

You were still half-hidden behind him, trying to avoid the dogs, and your brain, in a panicked scramble for an answer, came up with something entirely ridiculous. “Cows.”

Rupert blinked, clearly taken aback. “Cows?”

You rushed to explain, the words tumbling out in a flurry. “Yeah, you know... they’re calm, low-maintenance. I grew up on a farm... in the countryside, and—” You trailed off, realizing just how absurd you must sound.

Rupert’s smirk returned, though this time it was softer, less mocking, almost like he was seeing a different side of you. “Well, that’s a first,” he said, the amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’ve never had a woman tell me she prefers cows to dogs.”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, embarrassed, but oddly relieved by the absurdity of it all. “It’s the truth, though. Cows are just... easier to handle.”

“Fair enough,” he said, stepping back to give the dogs a little more space. They sniffed you cautiously, their noses twitching in curiosity but respecting the invisible boundary you’d created. “I’ll make sure they keep their distance from now on.”

The dogs seemed to sense the shift, obediently sitting beside Rupert, their tails giving a lazy wag, as if in approval. The air between you both lightened, the earlier tension dissolving into something a little more comfortable, though still charged with an undeniable undercurrent.

Your eyes met his briefly, and in that fleeting moment, there was something unspoken between you—a spark, perhaps, or just the ridiculousness of the situation. You couldn’t tell.

As you walked toward the door, Rupert’s presence beside you was oddly comforting, though you couldn’t quite shake the awareness that something else lingered in the air between you.

Just before you reached the door handle, one last bark echoed from behind you, and you turned to see the dogs sitting, tails wagging furiously.

Rupert glanced back, a grin spreading across his face. “They’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly, then added with a laugh, “And for the record, I’m still more of a cow person.”

He shook his head, still grinning. “I’ll remember that. Cows, not dogs. Got it.”

The door clicked shut behind you, an uneasy feeling lingered in your chest. The awkwardness, the subtle tension, his smile that never seemed to falter—all of it replayed in your mind, leaving you wondering what just happened and how everything had shifted so quickly.

You shook your head, trying to push the lingering thoughts away. It was over. You’d never have to face him again.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Still, a quiet, persistent voice deep inside whispered that this was only the beginning.

As you glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the manor shrink into the distance, you whispered to yourself, A bientôt, Monsieur Rupert.

#rivals #rivals 2024 #rivals hulu #rivals disney+#rupert campbell black #Rupert Campbell-Black x reader #declan o’hara #declan o’hara x reader #Rupert Campbell-Black #rupert campbell-black x oc

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appocalipse · 1 year ago

Note

hello ♥ i'd like to request faded photograph + antique lock and key set with steve. maybe after what happened in s4 with steve and nancy and all that r decides to leave hawkins because she's sure he still loves nancy and she wants to move on? and if you want it could have a happy ending with one of those super cute love confessions ♥♥♥

ahhhh this is so steve! ♥ (also this is my version where eddie and max are alive and fine and hawkins is safe again)

visit amy's flea market ♥

"I need to tell you something."

Steve is not sure he likes the tone of your voice. It's somber, serious. His gut clenches, and for a brief moment, he scares himself with the thought that something might be wrong with you, something he might not be able to help with.

And it's raining outside, for God's sake. It's never good news on a rainy day like this, is it?

"Everything... everything is fine?"

"Yeah. Yes, everything is...fine."

You smile, but Steve notices it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

You look at him as if the words are stuck in your throat, as if they're heavy and you desperately want to get rid of them.

Finally, you clear your throat.

"I'm leaving."

Steve feels as if the wind has been knocked out of him. "What?"

"I'm leaving. Hawkins, I mean. Tomorrow."

You shrug, as if you're not sure what else to do with your arms, and then you turn around and Steve can't even attempt to read your expressions anymore.

He knows you've been thinking about college and your future, but he thought... well, he thought you'd stay. You'd told him months ago that you were actually planning to stay. And now...

Steve clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. And because he's sure this can't be happening, he double-checks, "For...for good?"

"Yeah. For good."

The silence between you feels like a living thing, thick and suffocating. Steve can feel the weight of it pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He's not sure if he's in shock or if he's just too stunned to form words.

"Why?" The question finally escapes him. "Why are you leaving?"

You turn back to him, and for a moment, Steve thinks he sees a glimmer of something in your eyes. Is it... sadness? Regret?

"I...I'm not sure, I guess," you say. "Just...why not?"

The words sound pathetic even to your own ears, but you can't help it. It's not like you don't love this place, this town, your friends... Steve. You do. You love it all.

Too much.

And it's different now. Hawkins is safe. The kids are safe. You're out of excuses to stay and get your heart broken a little further. It feels like it's time to move on, to leave behind the shadow of the Upside Down, to stop waiting for something to happen.

But Steve looks at you like you're making the biggest mistake of your life, and then he says the last words you'd expect him to say right now. "You want to leave and you don't even know why?"

It's not anger in his voice, but it's close. It's desperation and fear and a kind of raw pain that you'd expect to see in the eyes of someone who's just been told they have a terminal illness or something.

"I just..." you stammer, feeling the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. "I have to."

Steve shakes his head, looking as if he's trying to will you to stay. "You don't have to."

"Yes I do! In a way that you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me!"

You're angry now, and a little hurt. All of your other friends supported your decision; Eddie, the kids. Nancy. And out of all of them, Steve is your best friend. Shouldn't he understand most of all?

"It's not that easy! You don't understand what it's like here! I can't...I can't just stay!"

Steve takes a step back, clearly hurt. "What do you mean I don't understand?"

"I mean..." You trail off, feeling helpless.

What are you supposed to do? Tell him how you are such a coward you cannot stand to see him and Nancy find their way back to each other?

"...doesn't matter," you murmur. "Doesn't matter. You'll be fine, okay? You have... everyone."

The words taste bitter in your mouth, and you can tell they're not sitting well with Steve. He looks at you like you've just slapped him, and you feel a pang of guilt. But what else can you do? You can't tell him the truth. You can't tell him that you're leaving because you're terrified of never getting over your stupid feelings for him, of watching him and Nancy falling in love with each other all over again.

You can't tell him that every time you think about it, you feel like you're drowning.

"Look," you say, forcing a smile, "it's not like I'm never coming back or anything. I'll...I'll visit. And...and I'll...call."

Steve doesn't return your smile. He just looks at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if he's trying to find something. Something that you've been keeping hidden. And then he shakes his head, and a small, sad smile finally tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You know what?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe...maybe I should come with you."

You look at him, stunned. You hadn't even considered the possibility. Steve...leaving Hawkins? With you? It's a strange, surreal thought, and...no. Absolutely not.

That would totally ruin your plan.

"What?"

"Yeah," Steve says, surprising you again. "I mean...why not? It's not like I've got anything keeping me here. And maybe...maybe it'd be good for me to get away. You know? See something new, do something different."

He looks at you, hope in his eyes. And for a moment, you almost consider it. Almost. Because it's so much easier saying yes to Steve than saying no. You could be together, away from all the memories and the reminders of everything you've been through...but you'd still be just friends.

He'd be with you everyday, and that's the last thing you need.

You can't stand the thought of watching him find someone else, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Of course, you want him to have all of those things; you just don't want to watch.

Steve seems to sense your hesitation, his hope fading.

"You don't want me in your life," it's not a question.

You panic.

"No! I mean...I do, I..." You can feel the words tumbling out of you before you even realize what you're saying. "You just..."

"Is that why you want me to stay here? Just so you don't have to deal with me anymore?"

"No!" You shake your head violently. "Of course not! That's not it at all!"

But the words feel hollow, even to you. Because in some twisted, secret part of your mind, that's exactly how you feel. You want him to stay here, where it's safe, where he can't get close to you, where he can't hurt you. You know it's selfish, but you can't help it.

Steve's expression softens, and he takes a step closer. "Be honest with me."

You make an effort not to move.

"I'm sorry," you manage to say, your voice barely audible. "I don't want you to come with me, but it's not because...I just...I don't think it's a good idea. It'd be better for you to stay here, where you belong. You deserve...you deserve to be happy. Your life is here, your job...she is here."

"She?"

"Nance."

Steve's face twists into a bitter grimace. "What does Nancy have to do with anything?"

"I just mean...well, c'mon, she was your first love, and you still love her, it's clear, a-and now she's single again-"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second here," Steve says, his voice suddenly raised. "Nancy? You think I'm still in love with Nancy? You're kidding, right?"

You blink, surprised by the vehemence in his tone. But Steve has always been…protective of his feelings, refusing to really understand them. You had seen how he and Nance looked at each other when no one was around, how he would light up whenever she was near...even when you were in the Upside Down, fighting for your lives, Steve's eyes would sometimes drift towards Nancy, his expression softening.

It's obvious to you.

"Forget it," you say. "It's none of my business, I just...I want you to be happy."

"I am happy," Steve says, his voice low. "I'm happy with you here."

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. You want to say something, to apologize or explain or reassure...but you can't find the words, and with the way Steve is looking at you now, you're not even sure what it is you want to say anymore.

"Steve," you murmur in a small, quiet voice, your heart feeling like it's tearing in two.

He takes another step closer, and you feel your heart start to race. He cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm, and leans in until his breath is warm against your lips. "Don't go anywhere," he asks.

Right this moment, you're not entirely sure you'd be able to if you tried.

Your feelings are confused enough. Being this close doesn't help.

"Steve," his name rolling off your tongue is somewhere between a plea and a warning as you look up into his eyes, chest heaving. You tell yourself you want to pull away, that you simply can't find the strength.

"You really think that?" he whispers. "You really think I'm still in love with her?"

His hands are still cupping your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his lips part, and he slowly leans in, closer, until his nose is almost touching yours.

You fist your hands in the fabric of his shirt, trying to will yourself not to give in to this, to not feel this way, to not want this. "Please don't," you manage to choke out. "Don't do this."

His lips brush against yours, soft and hesitant. "Don't do what?" he whispers against your mouth. "Don't love you?"

"Steve." Desperation. Feels like the world is spinning out of control.

He pulls back, eyes searching yours. "What do you want me to do?"

Your throat feels tight. "Don't do this," you manage to whisper. "Don't choose me because you think I'm a consolation prize."

He frowns, confusion flitting across his features. "What are you talking about?"

You swallow hard, feeling the tears burning at the back of your eyes. "I don't want you to do this just because you don't want me to leave, or because you're lonely, or-"

Steve cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "I know that's not true, and you know that's not true," he says, his voice soft. "But if it's what you need to hear..."

He kisses you properly this time.

It's the kind of kiss that makes your toes curl, your heart skip a beat, and your stomach flip-flop. It's the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless, and a little dizzy, and more than a little bit in love. It's the kind of kiss that tells you, without a single word being spoken, that you are wanted, and cherished, and loved.

"Do you feel like a consolation prize when I do this?" he whispers against your lips. And he kisses you again, slowly, his weight pressing you against the wall. You feel the warmth of his body against yours, the hardness of his muscles beneath your fingertips. "Or when I do this?"

He trails his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of tiny kisses behind. You sigh, arching into him, and he chuckles softly.

"Steve..."

"Or this?"

He pulls back slightly, cupping your face with his hands, looking into your eyes as he trails his thumbs across your cheekbones. The softness of his touch catches you off guard. His gaze is intense, searching, and you feel like maybe he can see something there that no one else ever could.

"Do you really feel like a consolation prize?" Steve gently brushes his nose against yours. He smiles. "Because if you do..." He leans in, lips parting just enough for his breath to tease across your skin. "...I'll prove you wrong."

"Actually," you smile, feeling the warmth spread from your chest up to your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his neck. "I think I might need some more... convincing."

Steve grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, then." He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. "I guess that's what I'll have to do."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington drabble #🏷️ amy's flea market #amy's flea market

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