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despairots · 10 months

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could you do a story where miles from earth-42 and our miles are twins and we cant decide which one we like better as we like both of them? you can write the story however you want to!

━━━━━━━━ if i were you, i’d do me.

earth1610! miles morales x gn! hacker! reader x earth42! miles morales. fluff and if you like squint really really hard you’ll find angst. 18 and above please dni, unless your my moot or something… i forgot to change my requests to open but u can send me requests (only abt atsv) just like be patient cuz im daydreaming and shit 🙏

pls ignore the title its nothing suggestive i was braindead and was listening to my saved audios on tiktok this was thw first one on my saved so el oh el 🤕 i gotta keep my writing grind up. keep in mind that earth 1610 miles will keep beinf spiderman and earth 42 will keep being prowler. if y dont know sliver wolf from hsr, switch her up cuz reader is heavily based off of her

this’ll be left on a cliffhanger cuz like idk i just dont wanna make another part and sometimes things are better off with cliffhangers since you guys have creative minds you can come up with your own scenarios

where in a dimension, earth42 and earth1610 miles morales are twins, may look the same but have completely different hairstyles and different personalities also another weird, interesting fact, you’re a sucker for twins, especially them.

interesting fact about you, specifically you, is that you almost got caught by the government when hacking into their system to steal some information.

and of course, them having connections to spiderman, told him to go after this hacker who causes a lot of trouble for the government.

miles morales obviously being under that mask and friends with this hacker who knew that you hated authority (yes, you’re an anarchist), didn’t bother doing anything, probably just telling you to stop messing with them.

on the other hand, his twin bother, myles morales, encourages this behaviour. polar opposites but two cuties, and you, who got roped into romance with them.

“[name], what’d i say about hacking the government?” miles scolded you as you chewed on bubblegum with your feet propped onto your desk, holographic screens in front of you.

“i don’t know, me forgot.” you nonchalantly shrugged, spinning your chair to go back to your screens and swiping left to play the weeknd.

miles spinning you back and placing his arms on your arm rests, too close to your liking.

you smirked with a light scoff, “your brother likes it.” miles rolls his eyes at the mention of him, “i don’t care what he likes.” he snapped back, obviously lying.

miles leaned back with a sigh, “god, what am i gonna do with you?” “maybe get off my ass.” you muttered, not knowing if miles heard that, to which he did.

“i’m sorry, what?”

you jumped at that, quickly shooting your arms up and trying to find excuses, opening your mouth like a fish.

your voice’s overlapped eachother, unable to hear his twin brother opening the door to your room, mask off and everything.

he looked at you who kept stumbling on words.

miles spider sense went off and looked at the entrance, seeing the one guy who encourages your behaviour, “what - what did you tell them?” myles smirked and shrugged.

“i didn’t say anything, bro.” he placed his claws on your bed and sat down on it, “i am not your bro.” miles chuckled and sat down on your bean bag.

“um actually-“

“shut up.”

“cope.” you playfully stuck your tongue out at miles who smiled and rolled his eyes, god you loved his smile. i mean, what?

you don’t love them, boo, you hate them.

“dude, tell [name] that if i don’t catch the ‘hacker’ i’m gonna get my ass kicked.” miles and his brother made eye contact, “i hope you do.” myles replied with a playful tone.

miles threw his hands up, “you guys are actually evil.” you laughed at his comment, “we’re actually vigilantes.” myles pointed out, patting his brother’s shoulder (the bean bag literally beside your bed).

you smiled at the two with light pigment on your cheeks, “i really wanna kiss you guys—“ you paused your sentence with embarrassment, realizing you were saying your thoughts out loud.

the two paused and looked at you, blinking, “eso es adorable, amor—“ “get out.”

“¿qué dijiste, amor?”

“i hate you guys. kill yourselves. espero que te resbales y te caigas en tu próxima misión.” you rolled your eyes and buried your face into your hands as the two twins looked at eachother.

“you don’t mean that, amor.” you groaned at the nickname the two labelled you. it made you want to giggle, twirl your hair and kick your feet like a schoolgirl.

you blushed when you felt an arm sneak around your neck, hugging you against your chair with their head beside your ear, “te gustamos los dos, ¿verdad, amor?”

god, you couldn’t choose between the two.

[name] when they keep getting teased and literally cannot deal with it.

#kaz. 💫#earth 1610 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 1610 #earth 1610 miles #earth 42 miles #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #42 miles #42 miles morales #1610 miles #1610 miles morales

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undercoverpena · 1 year

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helen. simon.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader Warnings: angst. smut. preestablished situationship. blowjobs. war/wounds. Wordcount: 4.3k Rating: 18+, Explicit. AN: Helen isn't the reader's real name. masterlist for ghost.

“Helen, you copy?”

You press the radio, grab a pair of gloves and throw a tub of utensils on your tray.

Because if he was radioing ahead, it was bad.

“Ghost, you know that’s not my alias.”

“It suits you.”

Clutching the radio, you roll your tongue over your teeth. “Am I dealing with your handiwork or someone else’s?”

“You’re a medic, Helen. Not a coroner.”

“Ever the gentleman. How far?”

He didn’t answer, because of course he fucking didn’t.

The doors of your makeshift medic tent were forced open with a crack, watching Ghost carrying in a bleeding Soap. The radio in your hand quickly discarded, the gloves snapping against your wrist and fingers as you move closer, eyeing up the work.

Ghost nods in your direction once he placed Soap down with a groan, you roll your eyes, walking towards them.

You pull your tray on wheels close. “Boo, how did you let this happen to him?”

Your fingers brush over stained scarlet fabric, taking the scissors from the tray to begin cutting Gaz’s clothes free from his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be looking after him—“

“—I’m right here—“ Soap protests.

But you continue, as if he didn’t speak. “—Through and through?”

“Affirmative,” Ghost says, your eyes glancing to his as he holds your stare.

Nodding, you look down, offering a comforting smile. “This isn’t going to be a tickle.”

“I trust you, Doc,” Soap groans.

“Probably the best decision you’ve made,” you comment, grabbing some alcohol to disinfect.

Soap hisses as the alcohol hits, and your gloved fingers spread quickly over the site, your hand swapping the bottle for a needle.

“Slow breaths for me, MacTavish,” you smile, beginning your work.

Stitching is easy. Even if you’re being watched like a hawk.

You’re neat, gentle—that’s what you’re told anyway.

For you, it’s one of the nicer parts of your job for saying what you were ordered to do. Which makes you wonder why you were called ahead.

It’s normally worse, much worse.

The only explanation you can think of, is because of the person bringing Soap in wanted you to know he’d be here. That his presence would be around yours.

“You’re gentler than I imagined,” Soap mumbles.

Your lips curl into a smirk, glancing at him as you place your needle down to wipe the blood from the site. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“No?”

Shaking your head, dropping the stained cotton wool in a bowl as you briefly catch Ghost’s eyes before meeting Soap’s. “No. But don’t make it a habit of ending up here. It’s my choice to be gentle.”

There’s something about hearing a certain kind of laugh come from you.

When it used to be for him, it was bliss.

It was everything. It was like light, and warmth—both a beautiful mix of the sun and the moon, one warming his bones and one guiding him home.

It’s for that reason when he hears your laugh and he’s not in the room—that bothers him.

He’s aware he has no right.

Nothing should compel him to feel anything. He’s not jealous, because there’s nothing that ties him into being jealous. He’s a lone wolf, he doesn’t grow attachments.

Ghost doesn’t even show his goddamn face.

You are not his—he is not yours.

Something the two of you came to the conclusion of last time. Just two entities that seem to find one another across battlefields and missions.

Even if—truthfully—this time, he’s the one who recommended you. The one who made you be here.

Your list of skills were important, necessary. That’s what he told Price, his exact words if he remembers. A medic, a hacker, and a great shot if needed.

Most of all, he likes you close—likes knowing you are safe.

He shouldn’t.

His past enough evidence to showcase why he shouldn’t let people get close, why he should keep you far away from him. But, he can’t.

You being one of the few who have seen him—all of him. He hadn’t known your name when you’d cleared the tent, waiting to ask him what he needed.

It was the care, that made him move. There had been no other reason. Most, if not all, knew his identity was a secret. You having being briefed, most likely, and yet while that was enough of an explanation as to why you cleared the room, you still ensured it was.

It’s why he let his hands guide your fingers to remove his mask that first time, the blood from his gash coating both of your fingers until the mask was removed. He remembers how warm your eyes were even now and then how quickly they switched to being practical. To the small things like turning him fully from the view of the door to cleaning and stitching him.

Ghost had been sure you could hear his heart with how close you stood. How your thighs were on either side of his knee as you closed the cut on his forehead from his fall. If you did hear, you said nothing.

Turning from him when you were done and saying you can put your spare on now, Simon.

You rarely used his name.

Almost as though maskless him was Simon, and Ghost was someone else.

He wanted to ask how you knew, who had told you of the spares he kept on his persons. But when you turned, staring into his eyes, he knew you just knew.

And so it was you he sought, practically seeking you like a bullet aiming for a target. You allowed him into your quarters, attending to wounds without the risk of others seeing him.

The name Helen came because he’d heard the talk.

The others discussing you, wondering in loud tones what you looked like under your tactical gear or your scrubs. If your grip would be as firm around their cocks as you were with a needle or scalpel.

He didn’t know what sat in his belly, but it was close to the fire when he sought you out. His mask half lifted as he connected his lips to yours, both needing to claim you and taste you simultaneously. His arm pulled you clean from the ground, your spine connecting with the door of your quarters as he ripped and stripped you of the few clothes you were wearing.

If he makes himself remember, he can still feel how gentle the pads of your fingers were when they lifted his mask that first time. How your eyes softened, his mask had fallen to the floor before you kissed him.

That’s when he should have known he was fucked, because he went back time and time again.

The two of you kept your distance. Except for the private moments behind watchful eyes, the moments he’d offer you a drink—hand brushing yours. His knee pressed against yours when you sat next to him at the few mealtimes you were able to sit for.

Then it unravelled.

He said things. You said nothing.

One day there, one day not.

Transferred he heard.

He didn’t want to know enough, worried a part of him would try to find you. Telling himself, it was for the best until Price invited him to join.

And then he got you back.

One quick word, and there you were.

All smirks, quick-tongued and glistening eyes once more. His eyes found you across briefings, the corner of your eye meeting his before your lips quirked.

He was content, happy almost… then there was Soap.

Soap let his eyes linger on your face for longer than he needed to. Soap, who made you laugh with ease, who you spoke to without need or cause.

And he’s not jealous.

There’s nothing to be jealous of. He saw to that.

So there's no reason for the anger bubbling inside of him as he stands outside, listening to Soap make you laugh while you check his stitches.

It’s rare to see Soap without Ghost.

For as lone-wolf as he pretends to be, Soap seems harder for him to shake.

It doesn’t shock you when they both walk into the briefings together, when they’re not far from each other. You heard, as did the rest, how good of a team the two of them were.

Bonded, they said.

Betrayal did that too.

Their trays come down, your eyes flicking up as you pull a piece of bread from your roll. They’re bickering about what you aren’t sure about, your focus on eating and not the fact you’ve felt his knee against yours.

The touch, the sign, almost making you lose your breath.

Ghost doesn’t move it, as if it’s purposefully there, wanting you to remember—as if you could ever fucking forget.

You knew what people said, the chatter. But you knew he knew the truth. That you never sought company amongst others. A rule, one you’d broken for him and him alone.

Not that he thought he was worthy of it.

He didn’t need to say it then, as he doesn’t need to now.

Ghost, once he’s let you in, is easy to read.

To some, he’s cold and distant, but it’s the fleeting in-between people miss. It’s also the way everyone else calls you your alias, except him.

They think it’s teasing, him being… Ghost.

But if they listened to the infliction in his voice, it’s not that at all. It’s as close to the way he says your name when he’s buried inside of you; it’s as close to how it sounds when his lips are by your ear, fingers around your neck as he makes your eyes roll in the back of your head.

It’s his way of—

“Chip?” Soap asks, pushing his tray towards you.

Pulling you from your thoughts, you swallow. Sliding your knee more against Ghost’s as you smile, shaking your head to Soap. “I’m good. How’s the arm?”

“Better. Thanks, Doc.”

You nod, dropping the rest of your roll down onto the tray and brushing the crumbs from your fingers.

“I never asked, why does he call you Helen?” Soap asks, jutting his head to the man beside him.

The one who has barely moved his mask to eat, even if his tray is full. You feel his knee move, and your eyes flick to him, finding his on his own tray.

“Helen of Troy,” you reply, just above a whisper, head tilting as you watch Soap’s expression. “The face that launched a thousand ships? I know you know first-hand his odd humour, but I think he really believes he’s being funny.”

“I don’t think it. I am funny.”

You roll your eyes.

“What’s the story behind Boo then?”

You laugh, pushing your tray away. “He’s a ghost from Super Mario. Not as funny or as complimentary, but relatable. While I don’t think he cackles down corridors, he is an annoying fucker who people should learn not to turn their back on.”

It also sounded gentler.

Like a pet name. Something which you’d done purposefully to annoy him, than be affectionate. But it stuck.

Like all things did between the two of you.

Before, you could imagine a life with Simon. The way his eyes soften for a millisecond when they land on you. It’s in those small moments you could have imagined a small home and a dog, maybe a roast on a Sunday and blankets in the winter.

But it’s Ghost who you have in front of you now, and it’s Ghost who drew a line under it all.

Now all of the memories are tainted with bitterness, all twisted reminders of times that weren’t this. Where he kept his distance, and you hardened yourself, so you didn’t close the space.

“Careful,” Ghost comments, his gruff voice silencing the two of you.

Your eyes fall to the table as you stand, smiling.

It wasn’t just that he thought you were beautiful, as to why he called you Helen.

It started as that.

But soon enough, he realised he’d launch a thousand ships for you himself—or, more relatably, in his line of work, make a thousand bullet rain down.

He’d caged it, though. Stuffed it in some dark corner where the rest of his issues were. It was fine there, it was welcomed and perfect.

Then, just as Ghost had managed to stuff it away, it came out when he spotted the enemy on the rooftop. Sneaking around, heading in your direction.

He’d advised against splitting up, even if he’d been overruled. Half of him wanted to yell at anyone and everyone that you shouldn’t even be on out here, not when medics—good medics—were hard to fucking come by.

It's why he doesn’t think when he leaves his place. His body moved without question. His brain knows your radio isn’t working, it’s been crackling, breaking up. At first, he thought you were being you—annoying. Until you called him Ghost in a tone, he didn’t care for.

It fuels him, that tone. His boots hammer into the cobbles as he hears the bullets.

Hand on his radio. “Get to the fountain, Soap. Ambush in progress. Now.”

Barely hearing him reply as his hand grasps his knife, throwing it at the one sneaking up before his arm finds you.

Ghost pulls you close, practically grabbing you; your gasp fills his ears before he throws the two of you through a wooden door.

It splinters around the two of you as you fall to the tiled floor with a thud. Hands on you, pushing you behind the counters as he shields you, pulling your body close.

His chin digs into your neck, heartbeat thundering in his ears, mixing with the bullets puncturing the air, wall, windows and anything else they can touch until silence.

Until nothing.

Both of you waiting, suddenly realising that your hands are around him, gripping his waist with the same intensity until his radio sounds.

“Ghost.”

“Soap,” he replies, feeling you shift, moving from him.

He knows it then.

Knows how fucked he is, especially when you don’t meet his eyes. An achievement which isn’t celebrated by the two of you.

Even if you got it, the hard drive. The thing they’d been seeking.

He avoids you.

Or does his best too. He does so until it’s hard to breathe, the tension thickening in the base each time he passes you, each time he hears someone says your name—your real name.

Not your alias.

Not Helen.

But your actual, fucking name.

The same one he’s moaned himself, the same one he’s whispered when the lights were out, and your body were against his.

You’re like a wound that never heals, and he can’t risk it anymore. Can’t chance bleeding out in front of everyone, not letting this fall apart—not driving you away again.

I don’t think we can be friends.

It’s all he says as he stands near your desk, knowing he’s leaving the base for a mission. Six fucking words that made your head whip up so quick he’s surprised your head remained on your neck.

All he thought was don’t give me the eyes. Don’t give me that fucking look that you do.

And you did.

That look made it hard for him not to take them back, to not close the gap between you and pull you so close and never let you go.

Why?

That’s all you asked.

Throwing your pen down, a little anger to it as your shoulders raised and your jaw tightened.

Why Ghost?

He doesn’t answer.

He just turned on his heels and boarded the plane.

The whole time he felt the answer rolling around his head, sitting on the tip of his tongue like an ulcer that hurt and annoyed him.

On the plane back, it worsened. It made him feel heavy. Worsened by images of that look you gave him, the one so reminiscent of the look you gave him all those years ago.

“You’re hard to be around.”

He watches you lift your head from your book. He didn’t even mean to come to your quarters. But here his boots were, the lamp giving your face a soft glow as he stepped through the open door of your space.

You close the book slowly, running a hand over your face before sighing. “Don’t come to my space then, Ghost.”

He closes your door, taking a long time to turn back to face you, but when he does, he sees it on your face. That same look.

“It’s why I can’t be friends with you. You’re too hard to be around.”

It’s a look which has haunted his dreams and hung in the depths of his nightmares.

“It’s not easy to be around you either,” you reply.

He watches, barely moving as you untangle your legs, slowly standing. For a second, you seem in two minds about whether to close the gap. Fingers twitching at your sides.

“You left.” You left me.

“I transferred.” You gave me no choice.

“Same thing.”

He watches as your chest rises and falls. His fingers move to undo his vest, his belt, throwing it down to take some of the weight off. Your eyes not leaving him.

“You hurt?”

He snorts.

Because no, not where you can fix him.

And he won’t ever admit the rest.

“You don’t have to be an arsehole,” you comment. “It’s a choice. A no is sufficient.”

You move closer before pausing again.

“You still hate me?”

It’s all he can ask.

Your face twisting ever so slightly.

Many wouldn’t notice, but he does. He knows each one of your faces, each twist of a feature and what it means. All the times he’s found himself watching, all of it benefiting him in the end.

But, even if your face is doing one thing, your eyes are doing something entirely different. Mixing between nothingness and pain, shimmering in the low light, transfixing him to the point it takes him a moment to realise you’re in front of him. Your hand on his masked-covered cheek before your thumbs hooks under it.

He lets you run your nails over his stubble, he lets you slide against his jaw as he remains perfectly still. More so when you lift it just above his nostrils, letting the back sit on the tip of his nose before you lift up on your tiptoes and you kiss him.

It’s instinctive, the way his arm comes around your waist and lifts you off the ground. It’s routine how your arms come around his neck and legs around his waist.

His hand in your hair makes you moan, that sweet, delicious sound he wishes would coat him forever. He wraps what he can in his grip before tugging, biting your bottom lip and saying, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You pull back from his lips, a look on his face he actually can’t read. This is why you must let your legs go, sliding down him, holding his puzzled gaze as you pull your cami top over your head. His gaze falling temporarily from your face to your bare chest, tracing the front of his teeth with his tongue before watching you snake your fingers into the band of your shorts and underwear.

It feels slow, even if it’s in his head, how you wiggle them down your thighs until they pool at your feet. Standing, bare, exposed just for him.

“I can’t hate you.”

“Come here,” he groans, hunger dripping in his demanding tone.

And you do.

You don’t drag your feet, you willingly move until your body is against him, lips groaning against his as you capture his tongue. Your hands make work of his trousers, his feet stepping out of them as he yanks his t-shirt over his head.

Then you grip his waist and his thighs, sliding down to your knees as you peel his underwear from his skin.

He hisses when you lick a strip up the base of his cock, sliding his hands free from his gloves so he can properly grip his hands in your hair.

Ghost needs to hold onto something as you take him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing, eyes staring up at him, looking every bit his Helen. Your tongue twists around the head, the air painted with gruff moans and hisses all coming from him as you slide your teeth down as much as you can.

He could fuck your throat.

Fuck, he wants to.

Instead, he pulls you to your feet, seeing the disappointment fading as he places you back up and standing.

He expects you to move his mask, to let your fingers trace the parts of his face you rarely see.

But you don’t. You just pull him with you, walking the two of you to your bed before lying down and pulling him with you.

It’s the way he holds you flush to him as if he needs to be inside of you—pulling you close until there’s no space. Your hand sliding between you both, his groan filling the space as you palm his want, his need through thin boxers as he runs his stubble against your neck.

Ghost slides his forehead over yours, the mask likely rough against your skin, eyes burning into him. “You’re never this silent.”

His fingers move from your hips to move his mask, but your hand grasps his wrist. Swallowing.

“I don’t want Simon.”

His head tilts ever so slightly. Suddenly not able to say a thing.

“Not tonight.”

It’s his turn to swallow. “Alright.”

And he lowers his palm to the space beside your head, caging you in.

“Eyes on me,” he says gruffly.

You are a coward.

A very sore coward.

You left Ghost in your room when he fell asleep beside you. You reasoned there was always something to do, and even if you were sure you had bruised bites forming on the inside of your thighs—you needed to keep busy.

Any other day, inventory bored the shit out of you.

Tonight, with the knowledge that a certain Lieutenant had almost made you forget your own name, it was wanted, needed.

A distraction like no other, which is rudely interrupted after only being here an hour.

His mask is back on. His clothes are as neat as they can be for saying they were thrown and discarded in a corner.

“Don’t do that again.”

You almost comment what, but the look, the fact he’s barely put on any black around his eyes, says he’s not in the mood.

"Leave. Don't leave like that again."

You shake your head. “That an order, Lt?”

“Damn right it is,” he says, his tone matching the expression he’s giving perfectly.

You swallow, staring at him. “Don’t do this, Ghost.”

“We’re way past, Ghost, don’t you think.”

Clicking your pen, you place it down with your clipboard, turning your body, so you face him. Properly.

“You’re being cruel,” you say, pulling your chair over as you seat yourself down. "And I know you know that..."

You roll your lips. “You have to be. Because you know how I feel… and yet you’re doing this all over again. I asked you when I first got here, if could we just be friends. And you agreed. And now...”

“I know.”

“So… what is with the knee, and the looks, and… I can’t do this again, Simon, I can’t try and get over you. I’m not that good, I’m not… I’m not that strong. Not for you, not when it comes to you, Simon.”

His eyes flicker.

It taking a moment to register that you said his name.

His real name.

The one you rarely, if ever, used, even behind private walls. Not because you didn’t want to but because it unlocked too much. It opened all of your locked places and unleashed the flurry of dreams and hopes that came with it.

And it’s all made worse by the way he says your name.

It’s soft and horribly gentle. He says your name just then like he’s trying to soothe you, but it just hurts.

It hurts because you love him.

You keep loving him. You try to build walls between the man you love and the person he has to be. It’s why you made him keep the mask on, it’s why you only whispered his real name when he brought you to climax.

It looks, from his expression staring at you, like he’s put the pieces of that puzzle together too, now.

You don’t expect it. Even after all the many versions of Ghost you’ve seen.

But, Ghost slowly lowering onto his knees, and not to spread your thighs, is unique. Especially when he just stares, saying so much without uttering a word.

And then, watching as one hand slides the glove off the other, your eyes following it as he takes your hand in his, clutching it, holding it. Something the two of you have never done outside either of your rooms—in the past or the present.

Slowly, as tears begin to prick, feeling overwhelmed by the silence and the loudness of the moment. Especially as his other hand takes your chin, pulling your face to meet his as he presses his forehead to yours.

It’s simple. Nothing too many.

But to you, it’s everything.

It’s more than a declaration, especially from him. And you get it, your hurt feelings vanishing, disappearing as he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Okay,” you whisper.

His eyes hold yours. “Okay.”

“It’ll be hard.”

“And worth it.”

You nod, letting a soft smile tug at your lips as he wipes another stray tear. "You may get sick of me, I'm very annoying."

"I already know that." You smirk, and he grips your hand tighter. “Still... you're mine. My Helen.”

You snort, “My Simon.”

masterlist for ghost.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley #cod ghost x reader smut #cod ghost angst #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader

2K notes · View notes

blackterrae · 8 months

Text

Ideas for Black!Reader Fic

I am going to try my hand again at writing. And I wanted to share some people and fandoms that I love. If you don’t know these shows/actors/franchises/movies/streamers I’m putting you on! For the following:

Johnny Depp- All his characters

Cameron Monaghan- I know that there are fics out there but it’s only always his Jerome/Jeremiah roles never just him or Cal Kestis

Anthony Carrigan- I loved Anothy as Victor Zsasz

Paul Dano- There are Riddler fics but not as many for his other roles

The Entire Cast of Hawaii Five-0 (2010) - Don’t even get me started on how good this show is! And the cast looks amazing!

Chicago Med/Fire/PD- These shows have so much potential for fanfic storylines!

The Game (2006)- Has great potential for slow burns and fluffs.

Star Wars franchise (1977-present) - I know I said Cal Kestis but there are also other characters like Anakin, Luke, Obi Wan,Boba Fett (etc.)

NCIS franchise- I honestly love this franchise and it’s characters!

Hamilton

Any/All Sports Men- Jude Bellingham,Lewis Hamilton,LaMelo Ball,Allen Iverson(etc.)

Berleezy - He’s handsome and he’s funny!

Coryxkenshin- I literally love him and his videos!

Albert Aretz (Flamingo)- Look … he may be the epitome of mediocre white man but I like what I like!

AMP- Duke Dennis, Kai Cenat, Agent 00, ChrisNxtDoor,Davis, and Fanum ( all I gotta say is love a black man from infinity to infinity🗣️)

Beta Squad- A British YouTube/ streamer group!

SOMEBROS- Berleezy, Rico, ,PG, Joe (etc.)

WWE- come on now, do I even need to explain!!!

Four Brothers- All the cast but Garrett Hedland in particular!

Peacemaker - Don’t get me wrong I love Adrian Chase but I want to see just as much Peacemaker x black!reader fics because 2 words… JOHN CENA

MAWS- New animated Superman show! Love!

Smallville - The entire cast is hot! Tbh I fell hard for Tom Welling when I was younger when he was in Cheaper By The Dozen. Plus they literally whitewashed Vixen. COME ON! Vixen is a black female hero btw. She was also with Jon (Green Lantern) at one point.

Justice League/Justice League Unlimited (2001 and 2004)- I mean I literally can’t find any Jon Stewart x black!reader fics and he was with a BLACK WOMAN!

Warner Bros Franchise (minus the looney tunes & space jam)- There are lots of popular franchises that this company has from Fast & Furious to The Matrix!

Peaky Blinders- Saw a Tommy shelby x arms dealer black!female reader fic on my previous account but even then I couldn’t find it again on that account. So it’s gone with the wind. And the cast (i.e the actors and other characters they’ve portrayed). Example: Cillian Murphy as Johnathan Crane.

The Bear

FBI (All)

Vinnie Hacker

Tiktokers

Blue Bloods

Will Poulter- I haven’t really seen any Adam Warlock fics

Slashers

Stranger Things

Dave Lizewski

Eddie Redmayne

Macgyver (2016)

Fresh Prince of Belair

Guardians of the galaxy- Explanation? Do I really need one?

On My Block

Descendants (characters will be the actors age in real life.duh)- Love Boo-boo Stewart & Mitchell Hope!

Matt Rife

Joey Bragg (Liv &Maddie) - What can I say I love dorks!

The Boys- Haven’t seen that many fics about the characters and a black reader

Once Upon A Time- I love dark fairytales sometimes because they remind me that not every story has a happy ending and you have to learn from them. But this series is good for any theme really.

Walker Texas Ranger (1993)

Top Gun

Magcon: Whether you saw their vines on YouTube or vine, you know who they are

Dolan Twins

Mission Impossible

Euphoria- Entire show has great storylines with the potential of drama in fics

Shameless- Especially Carl Gallagher and Lip Gallagher

Creed- Michael B Jordan need I say more

Keanu Reeves- There are very few fics about Keanu but I’ve seen a few of his John Wick x black!reader fics (chef’s kiss) but never see any of The Matrix Fics!Also Ted (Bill & Ted)

River Phoenix

Batman Beyond

Rider Strong

Danny Gonzalez

Timothée Chalamet

New York Undercover

Past-Present Singers & Rappers/ Groups -Bow Wow, Tupac, Lil Baby, Nelly, Omarion, Prince, Michael Jackson, Jon B,Usher, Central Cee, Måneskin, New Edition, BTS, James Bay(etc.)

Anime(Any kind!)- Would love to see other shows, I know hunterxhunter,aot,one piece (etc.)

Bridgerton- There is very little Bridgerton stories catered around a black reader.

Marvel- Now that’s not to say that there aren’t any in fact there are many but I never see (Tobey Maguire Spider-Man stories and it seems like everyone tends to focus on the famous Marvel characters like The Avengers but not on other aspects like X-men or better yet, heroes that haven’t even gotten their own movie but are just as amazing like Squadron Supreme , it’s equivalent to DCU’s Justice League.

Secret Invasion- Not gonna lie , I’m feening for Gravik.😳

DCEU- Another franchise that pushes its other characters to the side. For example, Hush (Thomas Elliot) is literally the epitome of Bruce Wayne gone bad!

Ross Lynch- There are so many roles that Ross did so well in Like Teen Beach Movie or Sabrina.

Highschool Musical Franchise (2006- present ) I’m not just talking about HSMTS (2019), I mean even further back than that. I don’t see any Troy Bolton x black!reader and that’s crazy. I also can’t find any Zac Efron x black!reader

Interview with a Vampire (1994) and (2022)

Austin Butler- He did well in his role as Elvis!

Vikings - There are a good amount but still!

Transformers

Suits

Saved By The Bell

The Goldbergs

Parks & Recreation

Leverage

The Outsiders

Heart of Stone

New York Undercover (1994)

Addams Family

Victorious

Matpat

ICarly

The Real Bros of Simi Valley (2017)

Think Like A Man (2012)

One on One (2001)

Scorpion (2014)

The King of Queens (1998)

G.I. Joe Franchise

Terminator

Beware the Batman (2013)

Any and all Asian Idols/Actors

Seal Team

Mortal Combat

Bill and Ted

Barbie

Detroit: Become Human

Will Trent

Tokyo Vice

Growing Pains

Graceful Family (Kdrama)[Any Asian Drama shows or movies would be great as well]

The Regime

If anyone needs ideas for these franchises/movies/shows/actors , then holla at me! I got you!

Also add more to the list if anything that you would like to see comes to mind.

Also tag black writers who you want to see this!

@sheabuttahwrites @shinsouscatpisssmell @cocoamoonmalfoy @heathenarmyimagines @cinewhore @cocoamoonmalfoy @stxxllaaa @glitterjuju @lilvampirina @breanime @blackmissfrizzle @afro-hispwriter @stargirlfics @lavenderursa @clydesducktape @pettyprocrastination @theblvckvenus @plantvenuss @punani @n-slayaaaaa @infernalodie @halfofmysoulsblog @iridecsense @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @supremethunda @thekrazykeke @canumoveurseatup-no @hiatuswhore @avintagekiss24 @ohcaptains @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @xsapphirescrollsx @sunflowertuliplily @bakarilennox @batfamily14 @ramp-it-up @blackreaders-assemble @royallyprincesslilly @funnyexel @blackterrae @slashisms @artemisthewh0re @shelbydelrey @toocriticalharlow @v-era-18 @vampsired @queenimmadolla @sinnerlillith @greengoblinswifey @apocalypse-shuffle

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yandere-daydreams · 28 days

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ahhhh i just miss the time when old otome games in general were super popular tbh.. everyday i reminisce about the times when the hottest topics between me and my old online friends were about mystic messenger, obey me, the arcana, etc.. T_T i really do miss those good times

i still think there are a lot of good dating sims, but truly NOTHING hit like hiding in an empty class room during your middle school lunch break bc you're going for a 100% complete run in mystic messenger and need to take a call from a fictional hacker who has ninety seconds or less to unpack his self-inflicted catholic guilt. now i'm only sleep deprived because of capitalism. boo.

#personal #anon ask

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annislittleshopofhorrors · 5 months

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My blog has been existing for more than 1 year. What was your

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shippadoracompulsiva78 · 5 months

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After the events of the mine and the last episode, Jake returns to our player after months of silence. But the others don't.

(bad english because it's not my native language, just some shit i did in the boredom of my own anguish and indignation)

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"But why delete my contacts?" M/C sighs in exasperation, their trembling fingers typing on the notebook's keys. Their heart were content for Jake's comeback, but their soul weren't fullfilled. There was a hole. A hole that only duskwood would heal. "I thought the others had forgotten me, yk??"

Jake's icon appears typing, hesitates and types again.

"Love, I didn't delete your contacts." M/C freezes in the chair. They frown, feeling their heart slowly sink into their stomach. "Yes, you did." They try to convince themselves, a little smile of denial spreading across their face. "You don't need to lie to me, I won't be mad. I've gotten used to your protective ways. But I don't think it was necessary..."

The sequence of responses was direct and painfully genuine:

"M/C."

"At no point, in all my time away, I did block your friends from contacting you."

Silence. The little smile still remained on their face: it was all a mistake, after all. Jake must have pressed some buttons without realizing it; even a great, genius hacker wanted by the government makes mistakes! Or the connection in Duskwood had been weak for the last 4 months, small towns always have these situations... Or maybe all their phones had died. At the same time. For 4 months.

Because they wouldn't do that to them. Thomas? maybe. But Cleo had no reason for that. Lilly now liked them, despite their previous disagreements. They still had to watch the horror movie with Dan, they were his "boo". Jessy was... their best friend...

The gentle vibration awakens M/C, blinking the tears from their eyes to see the message: "What happened?"

A sob rips from their throat. Their face contorts in bitterness and anguish, they shrink into the chair. No, it wasn't true. After all this time, they weren't going to do it. M/C did everything possible and impossible for them, for all of them. They forget to sleep, to eat, to experience the outside world just for them. And they promised them that they are important! They are important!!!

"They fucking left me, Jake."

M/C rests their arms on the table and sinks their face. Sadness, anger, humiliation took over their being as they cried in despair. And they cried the same way they cried when Jessy was attacked. When the pressure of finding Hannah was too much. When Jake disappeared. When Dan was in the hospital. When Richy was killed. When Richy killed them.

M/C's heart couldn't handle another betrayal. Not another.

#duskwood #duskwood richy #duskwood jessy #duskwood cleo #duskwood jake #duskwood thomas #duskwood hannah #💔💔💔#duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fandom

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eridanidreams · 4 months

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Snippet Sunday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon@violenceandviolets, and @artemis-crimson

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Sam was already at the Rock when Cait got there; he was deep in conversation with the dark-haired senior Ranger she'd passed a few times. She didn't interrupt, just headed up the stairs to the Marshal's office. He wasn't one to waste words or time. "Welcome back. Any luck finding out who stole the ship from HopeTech?"

Blake's crisp efficiency cut through any lingering haze from the morning, and Cait could almost feel her spine straighten a bit more in reaction. "With Ranger Pryce's help, we tracked it back to a known ship-jacker name of Grace Early. From what she said, I still think it was an inside job, but I've asked Ranger Kalu for assistance with that aspect. She's better positioned to follow up in HopeTech itself. She had some physical evidence—an encrypted slate—which I've handed over to Ranger Hadid. He's asked me to keep an eye out for more of them."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad to see you know how to work as part of a team. And, it sounds like you're making real progress."

"Not as much as I'd like," she said grimly. "I have a couple names, but shutting down the First won't help unless we can get a tie to whoever hired them." Blake nodded, and she sensed agreement and approval in his tightly-controlled emotions. "Since you have personal knowledge of the First, sir, I was hoping you could give me some intel on these names: Maya Cruz and Marco… something. Marco's a money man. Cruz was the go-between."

Blake grunted. "I served with Maya Cruz. Technical genius and expert hacker. Arrogant. Not a people person. Marco… about the time he got out of jail, we started hearing his name in connection with a smuggling racket. Based on what you've learned, I'd presume he's funneling his ill-gotten gains to the First. Autumn MacMillan's looking into that operation out at the Red Mile, but…" He frowned. "He runs a tight ship, but one of his suppliers isn't quite as careful. Sonny di Falco. He's got a little estate on Maheo I. If you want my advice, I'd follow up there first before jogging Autumn's elbow."

Cait nodded. "As for Cruz, she was suffering from some kind of serious illness; I thought I'd start looking at the Clinic."

"Best medical services money can buy," Blake nodded again. "Good call. With their privacy guarantees, it's ideal for someone trying to keep a low profile. Ranger Ben Armistead is posted there; I'll send him an update on the situation. He'll be expecting you."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

"You're welcome. Just remember, your priority is to gather more intel on the First. What are they planning? Who are they working for? Where are they headquartered?" Blake fired out the questions like bullets.

"Whatever they're planning," she replied, "it's going to be something meant to hurt the Collective. They believe that the Collective betrayed them."

"That's right," he agreed. "Your targets were locked up because they were loyal to their unit and Major Hull. They won't take kindly to you sticking your nose in, so watch your back." He gave her a stiff nod of dismissal. "Good hunting, Deputy."

Cait echoed his nod and made her way back downstairs, thinking hard. All in all, she was inclined to take the Marshal's advice, start with the easiest nut to crack. Sam was sipping a Boom!Pop while chatting with Helga; he gave Cait a casual little wave of acknowledgment when she entered the bar. Despite her best efforts to keep his feelings at bay, she couldn't help but pick up fragments of his good mood. Cora's visit must have gone well, then. She paused a moment at the jobs console, giving Sam time to wrap up his conversation.

He caught up with her just outside the Rock. "Mornin'," he said cheerfully, handing her a Boom!Pop Cherry. "Sleep well?"

The question made her damn near fall on her face—How could he know?!—before she realized how impossible it was that he'd be referring to—that. "Fine," she said hurriedly, trying to fight down the flush she felt creeping up her neck. "Just fine, thanks." She took a deep, determined breath. "Um. You?"

"Oh," he chuckled, "I slept juuuuuuuuust fine." Cait didn't have to see Sam's grin to know it was there, an air of lazy satisfaction that thrummed down that weird little connection she had to him, sent a tingle down her spine and made her insides tighten. With an effort, she shoved it down, but she couldn't help but be hyper-aware of his presence next to her, warm and solid, and all she had to do was turn around and bring her lips to his—

Dammit! What the hell was wrong with her? She shivered, running her hands up and down her arms. Sam—of course—noticed, but fortunately he chalked it up to the cool of the morning. "You know," he said affectionately, "you wouldn't be so cold if you grabbed a jacket. Why don't you take mine until we reach the ship?"

He was already starting to shrug out of it when she blurted, "No—!" That no was the hardest thing she'd ever had to say; she desperately wanted to say yes, to surround herself in his warmth and his scent… and she was terrified of what might happen if she did. Had to remind herself that they were just friends. That he loved someone else. "No," she managed to repeat more normally, even smiling a little to soften it. "I appreciate the offer, but a little cool won't kill me."

"A'right," Sam said, settling it back on his shoulders. "So what's the plan?" He seemed different today—his emotions seemed more—muted—than usual, like he was holding something in. Cait should have been happy about that, given the trouble she'd been having tuning him out—but instead she felt bereft. Again—what the hell was wrong with her? "Cait—?" He sounded concerned, and she shook herself out of her thoughts.

"Sorry." She gave him an apologetic smile. "Um, Maheo I. Marco's got a smuggling contact by the name of Sonny di Falco; he's got an estate there. Marshal thinks we're more likely to be able to squeeze something out of him." Sam's emotions flared cold hatred, and when Cait chanced a look at him, his face was set in stone.

"I know him," he said, and his voice was as flat and hard as his expression. "He's a slimy bastard. Big shot on Neon, 'til he did something to cross Ben Bayu. Couldn't have been too bad—he got out with his skin in one piece—and he's still got his fingers in a lot of pies. If he's working with Marco, that's bad news all around." He looked at her, a strange, almost desperate intensity in his gaze. "You watch yourself with him. He has a lot of charm, he knows how to use it, and he's good at getting his hooks into the innocent and naive and—twisting them all up."

"And which am I?" she asked sarcastically.

He exhaled harshly. "That first one. Cait—" he held up a hand to forestall her protests "—when it comes to dealing with people like him… you are. He likes to think of himself as a collector of people, and you? You're—you're unique. He's gonna take one look at you and—" He shook his head, and something dark and savage surfaced for a moment in his eyes. "Just trust me on this one, okay? Do not agree to anything. Do not take anything he offers. 'Specially not Aurora. He'll get you hooked on that shit faster than a grav jump to nowhere." He was holding in his feelings so hard it had to hurt—all she got was a vague sense of mingled anger, hatred, and fear that burned like acid.

"I trust you," she told him softly. "If you say he's bad news, I will be extra careful." She hesitated. "Are you going to be okay going in there with me?"

"Don't even think of going in with someone else," Sam growled, shifting his rifle a little on his back.

"Okay." Cait didn't hesitate to give him her agreement. "I'll make sure you're carrying a couple extra junk flushes, then. I… don't react well to Aurora, so if he does manage to slip me some, you might need it."

"If he does, he's dead." Sam's voice cracked like a gunshot. Mood he was in, she wasn't going to argue.

#snippet sunday #sam coe #fanfic #eridani writes #starfield #caitlyn lynch #stars through my fingers like grains of sand #coemancer

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ahlovelightaflame · 8 months

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Stay on Track ~ *Boo Seungkwan*

Summary: Seungkwan absolutely loves being a radio host and tv personality. He hates being in the mafia though. However, what he doesn’t realize is that staying in the mafia keeps you out of harms way.

Pairing: Boo Seungkwan X Fem!Reader

Genre: Angstyish Oneshot

Word Count: 3067

Warning: Swearing, mentions of being attacked and being abused (vague-ish), mentions of physical injury (vague)

Mafia Masterlist

“Alright everyone, it appears our time is up for today. Thank you all for tuning into Kwan Talk Radio and I hope to hear from you all tomorrow. Take care and stick around for my colleague Kihyun’s segment Key-hyun of Life. Thanks everyone!” As Seungkwan started playing the next song, Kihyun entered the studio with a smile.

“Thanks Kwan. Amazing show as always.”

He laughed. Of course it was, but he needed to still appear humble. “Thanks Kihyun. I’ll be listening to your segment on my way out.”

Kihyun nodded before starting to set up. Seungkwan, on the other hand, slipped out of the studio, where he grabbed his jacket, keys, and bag. Within an instant, you were at his side, scrolling through his schedule on your tablet. He tried to discreetly roll his eyes at your persistence to take control of his daily life. He knew exactly what you were going to say as soon as you showed up next to him. Nevertheless, he decided to humor you for the briefest second.

“What’s next?” His tone was dry but he really didn’t want to hear the answer anyways.

“Jihoon wants to meet with you about a counterattack on the gang that jumped Joshua and Hoshi’s team.” You explained, exiting the radio building and opening the car door for him, that was waiting outside.

He sighed, settling into the car. He shut the door, without waiting for you to enter. “I think I’m just going to go home since I had a long day.”

Before you could protest, he rolled up his window and the driver drove away. You sighed before sending a message to Jihoon about Seungkwan not wanting to show up to the meeting. Not even five seconds later, you received his relieved reply, saying he didn’t want to have that meeting anyways.

As his chauffeur drove him back to his place on the outskirts of town, Seungkwan sighed as he rubbed his temples. He knew what he did was wrong and he made a mental note to send you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite snacks tomorrow. He didn’t hate you; far from it, actually. He really cared about you and you knew that. When you first became his assistant, he was hesitant to relinquish his schedule to you. He was so used to doing it himself, but with his growing popularity as a radio personality and influencer, he needed the help to balance between being in the public eye and doing mafia work. So you took on the job. It took him some time to get used to you, but eventually he came around to relying on you for help. In the beginning, the two of you were friends.

But things changed as his popularity grew even more, he started to change. He was offered a position on an evening talk show recently, which made it even harder for him to make time for the mafia. Now, the boys were pretty chill about having a life outside of the family, but when they needed you, you had to be there. And Seungkwan was really dropping the ball on that part of his life. In all honesty, he didn’t think he wanted to be a part of it anymore.

He’s been meaning to tell you about that, but he didn’t know how. Despite being very understanding with everything that entailed with his hectic lifestyle, you weren’t a big fan of him quitting. Every time he thought about turning down a job or not taking an opportunity presented to him, you’d tell him to try it. You always said it was your job to organize his schedule and make sure he wasn’t overwhelmed.

But he didn’t want to be in the mafia anymore. He wasn’t really needed anyways. Jihoon had a strong and capable team with Minghao and Joshua. Minghao was the best hacker in town and Joshua had connections upon connections with different people. What did he have? He was in the public eye. If anything, he would only cause the destruction and ruin of the gang. Even if he didn’t want to be a part of their organization anymore, he didn’t want anything to happen to them.

The car rolled to a stop, Seungkwan’s driver notifying him that he was at home. He thanked him before telling him to take a dinner break before he needed to leave for the film studio for the talk show. He was going to shower, change, and get a quick bite to eat before heading out. If he was quick and stayed on track, he wouldn’t have to think about you at all.

Entering his quaint little abode, he sighed. Someone was cooking. He knew exactly who it was.

“You’re late. But I’m almost done, so you can shower and everything will be ready to go. If it makes you feel better, when I’m done setting the food out, I’ll meet you at the studio.” You called out to him.

When he made his way into the kitchen, you turned around to give him a small smile. He sighed again. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said the things I said or done the things I did.”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about that. Go get ready, please. Then, you can leave for work.”

“Okay, whatever you say. But please, stay for dinner. I don’t want you going hungry again.” He lightly scolded before making his way to the bathroom.

After his shower and changing his clothes, Seungkwan returned to the kitchen. You were sitting there, holding out a bowl of ramen with a tender smile. He felt his heart stutter in his chest, but he pushed the feeling away. He didn’t have time to think about that. He needed to stay on track.

He thanked you as he took the bowl. “You always know exactly what I need, don’t you?”

“It’s my job.” You teased, shoving his shoulder playfully.

Nodding slowly, he looked down at his food before saying. “Well, I was thinking. What if I made your job easier?”

You laughed. “And how on Earth would you do that?”

“I’m quitting the mafia.”

Your chopsticks clattered against your bowl as you started coughing violently. Seungkwan quickly started patting your back as you slowly regained your breath control. If he knew his words were going to cause you to react like that, he would have waited until you were in the car. Honestly, he didn’t know why he told you. It just sort of came out. What he was thinking about doing was to quit the mafia before telling you. But maybe it was better this way.

“You’re doing what?” You asked, eyes wide and bewildered.

“I’m quitting.” He explained. “I’ve become a liability. I’m too deep into the public sphere that sooner or later my background is going to be exposed and people are going to get hurt.”

“Well, what if people get hurt with you quitting?” You shot back defensively.

“I’m not risking the boys, Y/n.” Seungkwan stated. “I thought you’d be happy. Now you don’t have to worry about getting all tangled up with someone who does illegal work. My record will be clean now and so will yours. I’m setting us both free, if you think about it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think about it that way at all. I don’t understand why you’d want to quit. Sure, it’s not entirely legal, but they’re a family. Families like that, they don’t leave each other behind. They take care of each other and look out for one another. Are you really willing to leave all of that behind?”

Well, you did have a point. Sure, he’d still see everyone around, but not as often as he was used to. Or maybe they would cut him out entirely? The Boss could be pretty unpredictable. Even her paramore Seungcheol couldn’t always guess what was going on in her mind all the time.

Seungkwan shook his head. “No, I’m sure of this decision. I’m protecting them if I leave now before my fame becomes too great. It’s the only way to keep them from danger.”

You sighed. “Will you at least sleep on it before you make a final decision? This isn’t something to be taken lightly. I want you to make sure you’re prepared for the consequences of whatever you decide. Please, will you think about it more, for me?”

Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it. For you. But we should get going, or else we’re going to be late.”

Glancing at the time, you answered, “You go on ahead. I’ve got some work to catch up on. Jihoon said he needed me to organize some of their files. You’ll be fine without me, I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure. You go or you’re going to be late. Go on! Shoo!”

He chuckled before slipping out the front door. “Bye. See you tomorrow.”

Waving, you watched as he shut the door behind him. With a sigh, you began biting your thumb nail. You knew it was a nasty habit, but you needed to think.

You should have told him. You should have told him all about your situation and just how much his decision affected you. Really, you thought his boss or even Seungcheol would have told him about where they got his personal assistant. They should have told him that you used to be an enemy that was saved from being beaten to death in an alleyway.

Before you were Seungkwan’s personal assistant, you worked as a runner for a rival gang. They were far more bloodthirsty and triggerhappy than the Seventeen gang. You were always afraid of being hurt in one of their many senseless brawls or being taken advantage of when they were too inebriated to see straight. One day, you were unlucky and jumped in that back alley. If it wasn’t for Vernon and Seokmin, you probably would have been killed that night.

Taken to the big boss and Seungcheol, who looked far too cozy to be a boss and her second, you were interrogated over tea. You explained that you held no loyalty to them and you wanted nothing more than to leave them behind. Though the big boss suggested a normal life, perhaps working at the Chewy Cafe, Seungcheol interjected that you could be useful or a spy. In other words, they needed to keep you close. You weren’t going to protest. As long as they weren’t like the last gang, she didn’t care.

So she met Seungkwan. And even though he was a little standoffish at first, you both eventually warmed up to him. And then you became very close friends.

And then you fell in love.

Shaking your head, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It was Hoshi. At least he was a friendly voice and you just needed someone to talk to.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/n? Are you with Seungkwan?” He asked.

You shook your head out of habit. “No, I’m not. Why? Is something wrong? Does he need me?”

“No, I was just wondering where you were. Are you still at his place?”

“Yes, I-”

The world went black and the phone fell to the floor.

Seungkwan didn’t know that you had been attacked until a commercial break in his show. On his way, he had called Jihoon to let him know that he was no longer a part of the mafia. He tried to talk him out of it, but it was half-assed. Seungkwan wasn’t surprised though. He knew Jihoon didn’t like being in the mafia either. However, Jihoon did promise to give you protection until you were settled into a new life. It was what Seungkwan wanted. You deserved a better life than the one he was giving you anyways.

Arriving at the studio, he was distracted. It wasn’t normal for him but he was thinking about his new found freedom. Something about it felt bittersweet to him. Sure he was going to miss his friends, but it needed to be done, and he could always make new friends. However a small part of him had introduced the awful idea that once you found out about your new found freedom, you wouldn’t want to see him again. He hoped his harshness hadn’t pushed you away for good.

The show was uneventful and boring. Seungkwan just wanted it to get over as soon as possible so he could go home and talk to you. While he was glancing behind the cameras, he noticed Chan, frantically waving his phone. It was then that he could tell something was wrong.

During the commercial break, he answered the phone that Chan practically shoved in his hands. “Hello? What happened? It must have been something bad if you had to send a lackey-”

“Y/n was attacked at your place.”

Seungkwan almost dropped his phone. “What do you mean she was attacked, Cheol?”

“I mean while you were out leaving all of us behind, your little assistant was assaulted at your place by her former gang. She managed to take a couple guys out after being dealt a major concussion, but it was Hoshi who dispatched backup. Your stuff is being packed up as we speak and being moved to the mansion. You better get here as soon as possible. Boss is still looking after her with Mingyu.”

He nodded. “Yes, I’m on my way.”

After quickly explaining to the crew, they allowed him to leave to make sure you were okay. With Chan in tow, he stormed to the parking garage and sped to the mansion. Chan tried to talk to him once, but when he was almost punched in the jaw, he kept his mouth shut the whole way back. Besides, he was too terrified about Seungkwan’s reckless driving to say much without wanting to vomit.

Arriving at the mansion, Jeonghan pointed in the direction of the infirmary. “She should be getting out soon. I’ll take care of the kid. You go.”

Seungkwan gave a curt nod before heading to the infirmary. As soon as he saw it, Mingyu left with the boss, both of them looking relieved to see him.

The boss grabbed his shoulders before he could storm in there. “Before I allow you to go wake her up, we need to talk about some things.”

“Hell yeah we need to talk about things.” He shrugged her hands off of him. “What the hell do you mean by her former gang? What haven’t you been sharing with me? What hasn’t she been sharing with me?”

“Easy.” She stated. “Look, we found her in an alleyway one night, looking about the way she looks now. We knew she could be useful and she was willing to prove herself. Around this time, you started bitching and moaning about a new assistant, so we gave her to you to test out. She did really well given her circumstances, until earlier today, when you quit. As soon as you quit, we can’t keep her on and she’s out of our protection. It was a matter of time till her former gang found her again. So now you have a choice to make, Boo: either leave this life and risk hers, or stay on for her sake.”

It was an unfair choice, they both knew it. But considering you weren’t a real member and just a ward of the gang, he was the one who had to make the call. It was a big decision, but knowing the risk, it was one he made without hesitation.

When you awoke, you hurt like a bitch. But you were more surprised by the fact that Seungkwan was sleeping in a chair across your bed. He was snoring slightly and it made you smile, sort of. Your face still hurts from the beating it had taken before you got here.

“Hey.” You croaked out, trying to get his attention. “Get your ass up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Seungkwan jerked awake, and though he looked pissed at first, he relaxed seeing you awake. “Good morning to you too.” “It’s night time, Kwan. I may have just woken up, but even I know that it’s got to be the ass crack of dawn.” You tried to laugh, but your chest hurt too much. It didn’t help that you had a relatively low pain tolerance to begin with.

“Alright, alright, take it easy.” He handed you a cup of water. Thank God only one of your arms was broken. “Also, I know everything now.”

An uneasy feeling found its way into your stomach. You weren’t sure if it was from Seungkwan knowing your past or from some head trauma you probably had. Either way, it wasn’t good. “Oh. Look, I’m sorry. I should have told you before, but I didn’t want you to think I was some spy trying to get your personal information. I was just looking for a new start, away from the abuse I suffered-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He sighed. “I had no idea what you went through, and I still don’t really know for sure. But that doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I care a hell of a lot about you and I worry about you all the time, even if it doesn’t seem like it. So I decided I’m going to stay in the mafia, to keep you safe.”

“Kwan, you know I can take care of myself.” You said.

“Tell that to your face.”

Again, you tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. He winced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You wheezed. “But are you sure this is what you want?”

He nodded. “I talked to the boss and we worked some things out. Everything is going to be fine. Nothing is going to change too drastically. But she did offer you a permanent position in the team.”

You hesitated. “Can I think about it?”

Again, he nodded. “She’s giving you all the time you need, so take it. Besides, you need to first focus on getting better. I can’t have my assistant in pain when she’s fixing my schedules.”

“Yep, things sure aren’t changing.”

With a chuckle, Seungkwan shook his head. “Of course not. I need you to keep me on track.”

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