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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

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lunememes · 1 year

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🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both! )

001. a tattoo parlour, buzzing with machinery and walls lined with artwork . 002. a shopping mall, crowded and loud . 003. a cabin in the mountains, taking shelter from the snow storm. 004. an abandoned tea party, occupied with broken dolls . 005. the shooting range, empty casings clinking on the floor and sulphur in the air . 006. a music room, filled with melodies of an instrument . 007. an empty auto shop, hood of a car left open and quiet music coming through speakers . 008. a bright arcade, coins falling from machines and claws grabbing at soft toys . 009. the kennels, filled with barking dogs and excited companions . 010. a restaurant, where everyone is eerily quiet and staff are overly friendly . 011. a riding arena, with trained riders atop proud horses . 012. a mini golf course, sails of a windmill obscuring the path ahead . 013. a zoo, filled with an array of unique animals . 014. the docks of a bay, boats lining the decks . 015. a pond with ducks, seeking food . 016. a museum, displaying ancient bones and pottery of a history long ago . 017. a closed down prison, ghosts of violent history echoing in empty cells . 018. a quiet train station, lights overhead flickering and announcement board displaying errors . 019. the vast desert, scorching heat baring down at high noon . 020. the dark woods, filled with strange hanging symbols made of sticks . 021. a deep hole in the ground, covered by leaves and sticks . 022. a wishing fountain, base lined with copper coins of past wishes . 023. an abandoned picnic in an empty field, flask still warm with coffee . 024. a barn filled with hay and tools, old wood creaking in the wind . 025. a graveyard in the dead of night, wind howling through the trees . 026. a crumbling bridge above a raging river . 027. the refreshing waters of a lake, away from prying eyes . 028. the crossroads, in the middle of nowhere . 029. a cosy bonfire at summer camp, marshmallows roasting on the fire . 030. the top of a radio tower, with the perfect view of the surrounding area . 031. a lone phone box on a street corner . 032. a large elaborate temple dedicated to a deity, offerings still intact . 033. a drive-in movie theatre, cars empty and projector casting only light onto the screen . 034. a strange trail of breadcrumbs on a woodland path . 035. a haunted mansion, ancient paintings watching every footstep . 036. a decrepit mine located out in the hills, believed by locals to have a powerful curse cast upon it . 037. the edge of a cliff, overlooking the rough waves and distant sounds of approaching danger . 038. a road trip across country, music blaring through speakers . 039. a flower shop, filled with bouquets and a sweet aroma . 040. an airport in the early hours of the morning, deprived of sleep . 041. a train on its way to its destination, a sleeping passenger resting on a shoulder . 042. an abandoned shack filled with strange books of the occult and something mysterious bubbling on the stove . 043. an empty throne room, moonlight glimmering through tall windows . 044. an underwater tunnel in an aquarium, fish swimming overhead and sharks looming in the distance . 045. deep within unmarked cave located in the side of a mountain, lit only by a flare . 046. the dusty streets of a western town, watched by wary residents . 047. the back of a vast library, surrounded by books, when a black book falls from the highest shelf . 048. a room of an asylum, an abandoned camcorder left in the middle of the room . 049. the shores of an unknown beach, washed up from the ocean . 050. the deck of an unsteady ship, waves crashing against the haul and rain lashing down from dark clouds .

#setting prompts #rp meme #drabble prompts #rp memes #rp prompts #setting meme

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sleekista · 4 months

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they’re idiots

patri guijarro x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: i love patri sm, and again naturally if my writing needs to improve just gimme a shout

TW: mentions of panic attack

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

The game was won, it was a very nice win. A comfortable 9-1, and that was fine. What wasn’t fine however were the fans after the game. In one area in particular they just kept throwing shirt and anything for us players to sign. I see Patri, my girlfriend getting frustrated at everything that’s happening and it doesn’t take a genius to see how overwhelmed she is.

Over the past few weeks it seems that the hate towards her has become obscurely large. How could anyone hate her? Especially now that she’s just gone and scored two. As much as she likes to say it doesn’t bother her I know it does and I hate to see the way she loses confidence over meaningless peoples opinions.

I walk over to the section in which fans are screaming, at this point i’m not sure how we can call them fans if they act like this. Alexia and some of the others are kicking game balls into the crowd. I stand right next to Patri, placing my hand on her lower back. She looks surprised, but continues with the overwhelming amount of fans who came to watch.

Around 5 minutes later, I can’t stand to watch her practically near a panic attack. So I say goodbye to the fans and drag her into the tunnel with me, leading her toward an area where no one would be for the time being.

“Patri? Amor, can you look at me?” I whisper, touching her forearm softly. She hesitates and looks up.

It’s then that I can see how conflicted her eyes look, how they’re slightly covered in a layer of tears, how it looks like she’s struggling to breathe. I immediately know what’s wrong.

“Hey, hey. Sit down on the floor with me. Come on.” I guide her making sure her back is rested against the wall. She looks straight up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay. My heart breaks a little.

“Amorcita, breathe with me. Feel my heartbeat got it?” I take her hand and place it on my heart as I start making exaggerated breathing patterns to help get her back to reality.

“There you go, just like that. You’re ok, they can’t see you. They can’t harm you. It’s just me.” I notice by her movements that she’s coming back. Something which I smile lightly at.

“Gracias” She says so lightly that I can barely hear her. All I do is smile.

We sit against the wall, no words need to be said. Until Alexia in all her glory strides down the hallway in her white fit.

“Hola.” She greets with a smile coming to stand in front of us.

“I suggest you two get back to the changing rooms. Nearly everyone is there, they sent me looking.” She then shifts her focus to my girlfriend.

“Patri, I’m sorry you have to be dealing with all of this stuff. It’s not easy. Just try not to get too worked up. Only makes it worse for yourself.”

“Thanks Ale.” She looks up at the captain who smiles before heading back to the change rooms.

“Well, we should probably go. After our showers, we’ll go back to the apartment and I’ll take your phone.” She looks at me questioningly. “So you don’t go into a spiral of bad thoughts. I know how you are. I won’t let that happen. Ok?” She nods and I pull her up heading back into the changing rooms. The girls all look happy but also worn down, I can empathise with that from all the trainings and games we’ve done.

Still there is a slight buzz in the air after the impressive win. Even if some exhaustion is the cost.

- - - - -

When Patri and I arrive back home, I stick to my word and she hands me her phone reluctantly. I put both of our phones in my bedside drawer and arrive in the living room to be greeted with Patri on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table and one of the Hunger Games movies starting to play on the tv.

I walk over smiling and sit down on the couch cuddling into Patri who only smiles. This is a good way to end the day all things considered.

“Te amo, Patri.”

“Yo también te amo, cariño.” She kisses the top of my head, turning her focus back to the screen.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro #wlw #gxg

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yorshie · 1 year

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Pick Up The Phone

Bayverse x FemReader PART TWO

tags/summary: violence, torture, cussing, hurt reader, angst, uhhhhh symptoms of shock? (I'm not to the point where I am writing an outright relationship but the undertones are there)

Reader has a date go sideways and the turtles come to the rescue, but there's a difference between seeing violence on tv and seeing someone you care for commit it.

Set in 2023 (Turtles aged up)

Leo would have called this an 'I told you so moment’.

You wished he was here, would have listened to his lecture on being more careful and not letting your guard down, if only for the fact that suffering through a powerpoint on ‘fifty ways today could go wrong’ would be happening on the way to the med bay, where hopefully Donnie would inform you that your arm was, in fact, not broken, and you were just being a little bit dramatic.

You deserved a few moments of dramatics at this point.

Your phone buzzed again, loud and angry in your hand, but you ignored it, knowing it wasn’t the number you wanted, needed. The screen was cracked, half the touchpad dead, and you weren’t even going to try to answer unless it was one of your friends.

Your face felt hot, sticky, but it was your arm that gave you worry. It had settled into a prickly pain that felt like a coiled snake, skin feverish and swelling quickly to the point your long-sleeved shirt felt constricting. Thank god it was dark outside, not many people around, easier to hide the side of your body that felt like it had shattered when you went down the stairs.

You paused under a street lamp, looked left and right, behind. The coast was clear, you felt far enough away. Your right hand pressed, shaky, on the screen, and you cursed, your fingers catching on the cracks as you fought with the half dead technology to hit a number, any number, on your short list.

Finally, failing, letting out a rough hiss, you jammed the phone on its side against your chest and held the button for assist.

It dinged, and you tucked your chin, whispering, “Siri, call Leo.”

“Sorry. Did you say ‘Call Leo’?” The answer, loud, carrying, had a shiver break across your shoulders, a cramp starting in your neck as your body tried to compensate the weight of keeping one side stationary.

“Yes.” It came out angry, even quieter, but the phone heard, and you watched as the screen changed, for once not trying to hit the speaker button.

The damaged screen was hot against your face, and you cradled it against the right side, unconsciously moving away from the light as you caught the distant shadow of a figure moving towards you.

The voicemail beeped, and you felt your face fall, not bothering to listen to the whole automated message. You set the phone back on your chest, pressed firm on the half lit ‘hang up’ button, fought a sniffle as it didn’t work.

You hissed out a breath again, pressed your forehead against the screen, and gritted out, “c'mon Leo, please- please, get your phone, please.”

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

“Hey, we on for movie night tonight?” Raph’s voice echoed throughout the lair as he hopped the turnstiles into the main room, depositing a pack of soda onto the common area table as he went.

“Don’t know,” Mikey’s voice floated from far above, and Raph ducked as his brother swooped down, the propulsion on his skateboard whining as he banked hard and jumped over a pipe. “Babycakes said something about having plans, told me and Donnie to not wait up.”

“Plans?” Raph frowned, cast his brother a look over his shoulder as he paused.

“Yea, Dee thinks it’s that guy we’re suppose to pretend to not know about.”

“Well, you’re doing an excellent job of that,” Raph sassed, already moving, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He stuck his head into the lab, careful not to move past the neon tape marking the entrance. “Hey, Don? You hear from girlie tonight?”

“No, not recently, but that’s not surprising.” Done answered, popping up from a workbench and moving towards his brother. “I sent a couple messages to her earlier, but I think she muted her phone, hasn’t answered.”

Before Raph could comment, he heard Mikey’s voice again. “Yea, she hasn’t even responded to the epic battle of cat gifs today, and we’ve had that thing rollin’ since Tuesday.”

Raph snorted, loudly, just to let Mikey know he was ridiculous, but Donnie hummed, brows shifting in confusion. “Hm, well… maybe Leo knows something.”

“Knows something about what?” Came the reply, the eldest stepping out from the dojo, swords clasped in his hand instead of strapped across his shell.

Raph jerked his chin towards him, “You talk to princess today?”

Leo paused, looked from Raph to Donnie. “No, but my phone’s been up in my room. Usually if she wants to talk, she does it in person.”

“Just go check your phone, numskull.” Raph gestured, and Leo scoffed, walking up the ramp to his room.

Donnie was already returning to the lab, grabbing his phone where it sat on the main desk. He frowned at the screen, calling back over his shoulder to Raph. “Got a missed call from her, just now.” The phone buzzed again, lighting up slightly brighter in his face. “Aaand now a voicemail.”

Raph moved to Donnie’s shoulder, crowding up into his space, as Donnie flicked the device open and navigated to the phone app.

“Donnie?”

They both froze, twin shivers working across their shells and down their legs like ice water at the hissed voice.

“Donnie, please, please- I need help-.”

It sounded like - like crying.

Raph was suddenly alone, a Donnie shaped hole next to him, as the taller brother all but teleported to his main station and started typing furiously on one keyboard.

Muffled, a harsher voice in the distance, and then your breath heaved out across the speaker, loud and uneven, the slap of footsteps echoing in the background. Raph could hear the next words from clear across the room.

“I’m not going back with you, leave me alone!”

“Donnie! We got a problem!” Leo was back. Raph spared him a glance, feet cemented to the floor, and saw the flash of an Otterbox in his hand.

“She called you, too?”

He saw Leo mouth the word too, before Donnie’s voicemail started up again, and he went silent, still.

It was that harsher voice again, this time clearer, closer. “Hey, c’mon, at least let me take you to the hospital-”

Raph felt something knock into him, saw Mikey shrug his shoulder out of the way, uncharacteristically solemn as he asked: “Donnie, where we goin, bro?”

A loud ringtone blared throughout the lab before Donnie could answer, and Raph all but ripped the seams on his pocket trying to get his phone out. He cut off the cheery jingle about sunshine, Donnie’s hissed “speaker, speaker” reminding him to hit the extra button instead of just screaming into the receiver:

“Princess!?”

“Raph?” And oh, the pain in his chest at that one word.

“Where are you, talk to me.” He felt crowded, Mikey against one shoulder, Leo at his back, but he fought the urge to shake them off.

“Who the fuck is Ra-”

“Your worst goddamn nightmare, if you don’t quit following me, asshat!” He could have kissed you for that, but that ball of ice in his gut solidified at the angry answer fired back:

Oh, so this is why you were guarding your pho-” The voice cut off, and they all heard the painful gasp that followed, your hiss audible.

“Donnie, work faster!” Leo all but shouted, but Donnie was already flying, grabbing gear as fast as he could. They scrambled out of the lab, Raph and Mikey racing for the dojo, hot on the others’ heels as they leaped the turnstiles and raced to see who would get out to the tunnels first.

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

Your call with Raph got disconnected in the struggle, but at that point all the despair, all the pain, got balled up in the center of your chest and turned into rage. You had minutes, maybe fifteen at the most, before the calvary arrived, and the idiot currently trying to haul you back to the street by your good shoulder would be in for a world of hurt.

“Stop! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!”

He ignored you, still pulling you away from the alley, from the manhole cover you’d been trying to pry open.

“You aren’t thinking clearly, why the fuck are you trying to go down into the sewer?”

“Let. Me. Go.” You stepped forward quickly, stomped his foot, jerked back just as fast.

“Fuck, you little bitch-”

The manhole cover behind you rocketed off the ground, disappearing into the dark with a loud crash and you felt like laughing at the sheer relief, your arm suddenly free as the man grabbing you was unceremoniously jerked away.

He was emitting a high pitched whine, the sound disappearing the harder Raph squeezed.

That relief bubbled away at the sight of violence, big hands slowly squeezing. You looked up at his face, expecting murder, bracing for it.

Devastated by the look of hatred in its stead.

Someone's arms wrapped around you, Mikey, you distantly thought, but you pulled against the warm push of muscle. “Stop- stop him-”

“Back off, Raph,” Leo barked, and you shivered as Raph dropped the man with a thud.

A quick glance around made you realize that, while relief had been your first emotion, something much darker had a hold of the turtles.

Donnie took up your vision as Leo moved past, large hands cool as he took your face between them and together with Mikey tried to turn you away.

Craning your neck, you could just make out the hiss of steel being drawn as Leo stopped over the crumpled figure on the ground.

A fear wormed its way into your heart, beating louder and louder. “Wait, wait- stop. Leo! Stop!”

He pulled up short like a puppet on strings, and you curled your good arm across Mikey’s bicep, trying for just a little wiggle room. Donnie’s thumbs still tracking across the bad side of your face as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“I need-I need you guys to take me to the lair.” The words left in a rush, your tone almost panicked, desperate that they take the bait. “Please, Raph. Leo. Please, I need you all to take me to the lair.”

“She’s got a broken arm,” Donnie called, as if you hadn’t spoken. “The head wound seems superficial, but it’s a lot of blood.”

You swatted away his hands, kept your eyes over his shoulder, tip toeing, pulling against Mikey. “Leave him, its not worth -”

Wrong thing to say. Raph moved faster than you could think. The crunch of bone against pavement the only warning before a high pitch scream left the man still on the ground.

The near growled whoops was darker than you had heard his voice before, but Leo only huffed a low chuckle that did nothing to ease your fears.

“Don, She’s nicked here,” Mikey’s murmur jerked you back, made you realize the calloused hands on you had moved. His grip had shifted, one arm across your chest, the other pulling at the hem of your shirt, thumb tucked into the crease of your hip.

Donnie’s finger moved to cover the broken skin, and you hissed, breath broken, babbling: “Stairs. Stairs- I fell down the stairs leaving-”

“Oh?” Leo’s voice reached you, and you cut yourself off, jaw snapping shut despite the fact that the tone wasn’t aimed at you. “I didn’t know you were called ‘stairs’. Nice to meet you.”

You couldn’t see what he did, but whatever it was pulled out a gargled whine.

Your hand finally unlatched from Mikey’s wrist, grabbed a hold of Donnie’s arm, tightened until you knew your nails were digging in. “Donnie- Donatello! Listen!”

Hazel eyes snapped to your face, and you continued, desperate to establish contact. “You are better than this, you all are better than this. Call it, Dee. Get me to the Lair."

His eyes flickered, you felt hope. “I’m really tired, Dee. My arm hurts so bad, please.”

His mouth pulled up at one corner, as if he knew what you were doing, saw straight through to the panic. He straightened to his full height, and you let that relief blossom, felt the pain in your arm again as he turned.

He whispered something, low, to Leo, and you watched, helpless in Mikey’s grip, as they turned in unison to your failed date.

“If.” Leo lowered himself, and you saw the sway of the blade in his hand, saw the way the man seemed hypnotized by the threat. “You. Ever. So much as think ill of her, we will know. And we will find you.”

Mikey’s chest vibrated under you back as he chuckled, his lyrical tone causing you to shiver. “Look at the big man quiver. Fucked up the wrong tree, bro.”

You bit your tongue, hard, fighting the urge to try and hurry them, goad them into leaving faster, knowing it might snap whatever hold you had and they’d go back into torment mode.

You didn’t release your breath until you all were in the tunnel below, good arm coming up to wrap around Mikey’s neck as he shifted you, careful of your bad side, gait long and even as they ate up miles.

Finally, a good ten minutes in, and you finally raised your head from his neck to ask, “Is my arm really broken?”

Heard Donnie hum an affirmative, and lowered your nose back to tuck against the juncture of Mikey’s neck. “Just one break, in your forearm. I’m hypothesizing you stuck it out to break a fall?”

“I really did take a trip down the stairs,” it felt wrong to try to inject humor, but they were so silent except for the sound of their feet on the cement. You tried to fill the silence again. “He only pushed me against the wall, only tried to get my phone. If I’d been smarter-”

A heavy hand, finger curling under your chin, and you let him, met Raph’s gaze, “If you say ‘only’ one more time, I’m turnin’ round.”

You made a strangled nose, disappeared back into the safety of Mikey’s hold, felt his hand soothe the shiver that had started in your shoulders, down your spine.

Donnie kept the med bay sterile, bleach clean. The white tiled walls boxed you in as Mikey set you on the patient bed, gently removing the grip you had on his wrist so Donnie could take his place.

They filled the room til the space was fit to burst, and you felt the tension, drowned in it with every pass of the soft cloth Donnie rubbed across your face, every brush of your knee against his leg. You had no idea who was wound tighter, you or them.

Finally, when Donnie moved back and you blinked at the harsh light after minutes of keeping your eyes clenched tight, Leo sighed. A deep, chest rattling exhale of breath, and it was like those imaginary puppet strings were finally cut, and you slumped your good shoulder against the wall behind you.

You could almost see him open his mouth even though you were faced the opposite way, and belatedly remembered how you had looked forward to his powerpoint presentation earlier. A smile worked its way onto your face, a twisted thing, gone as soon as you felt the atmosphere shift again.

“The fuck you smilin’ about?” Raph. And you swallowed heavily, mind flickering back to big hands squeezing.

“Raph.” Leo’s reprimand was soft, different from the bark earlier. You suddenly wanted him to snap, wanted the anger. Wanted them to at least stay on one page so you had a hope of processing it.

You felt tears, now of all times, escape their ledge, start tracking down your face as Donnie moved to your arm. You stared at a point over his shell, where the wall met the ceiling, and held it.

“Ah, shit, princess. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” That big hand again, cupping your cheek, and without thinking you curled your face away, heartbeat painful, imagining the strain to squeeze the life out of a man with one grip.

His hand hung in the air, suspended, then dropped, and you tracked it all in slow motion.

Donnie interrupted, “I’m gonna look at your ribs now, kay?”

You nodded woodenly, sucked in a breath at how cold his hands felt against broken skin.

“You’re gonna feel a little out of sorts for a bit,” he continued, and blessedly Raph moved away. For a heart stopping moment you thought he was leaving, but he only leaned back against the closed door. You tracked over him, then around the room, realized he had gone to the wall furthest from Leo.

Donnie pulled your attention again, “you’re likely already experiencing some shock symptoms-”

Donnie was almost always right, you realized, because at that moment you blurted out: “Thank you, for- coming to-” The words stuck, and the tears wouldn’t stop, and you could still see Raph’s hand hanging in the space next to you. Your arm burned, your ribs ached, but you needed to say it, needed them to know that-

“Hey, babycakes, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Mikey was on the bed behind you, legs sliding on either side of yours, holding you steady with a warm hand on your good hip, and you breathed in sharp, your shiver turning into full body quakes.

Donnie kept a hold of your bad arm, held it out, kept it steady as he continued to work on it, probing the break carefully.

Leo moved, silent, in between a long blink, grip on your calves soft as he dropped to his knees, caged you in between Mikey’s thighs and his plastron.

Raph sighed from where he stood, and you heard more than saw him push off the door, steps loud as he moved to your free side and once again raised his hands.

They curled along your jaw, too big, too strong. Grip careful as he wiped away the tears, cradled your head to keep your chattering teeth still.

An echo of the earlier violence, but at this point you didn’t care.

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agentmarcuspike · 6 months

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frankie morales x dominatrix (+ ex!reader)

synopsis: after breaking up with you on a self sabotaging whim, frankie finds his way back into familiar arms to cope content warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction, sub!frankie, destructive and avoidant behavior, sex work, joi (jerk-off instructions), masturbation (m), degredation kink, vague descriptions of dissociation, dom's name is jessica (after my hero @hier--soir), cum, some pain and tears related to jerking off (stop if it hurts, guys!), military related trauma, very brief attempt at aftercare word count: ~ 2.7k a/n: my first frankie fic! thank you, han @swiftispunk, for proof reading af, for encouraging me to conquer my p0rn shame, and of course for writing such an inspiring sub!frankie. we love him (and u)

Frankie knew it wasn’t fair to you. He knew he’d cause you pain by ending things after twelve amazing, promising months. But compared to the inevitable pain he was doomed to bring everyone he loved and cared for, it was nothing.

He’d been clean for a mere week when you met, and the rush you gave him had been enough to replace the rush of a high. For a while. But when the withdrawals and unrest returned, and the butterflies could no longer keep the cravings at bay, you’d held him through the tremors, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, and at no point had you judged him for his past or his way of coping. You’d loved him.

And you still did.

Did he love you too? Most likely. Probably. Yes. Which was why he had done what he had. Because you deserved someone better for you. Someone without his history, his trauma, his wounds. No matter how much he loved you for tending to them, you shouldn’t have had to. And that’s why he’d left, on this gloomy Sunday evening, with no other explanation than, “I’m sorry.”

It’s also why Frankie finds himself roaming the chilly city, street lights blurry, all noises softened by a thick layer of apathy. He has no idea how long he’s been walking, no idea whether he’s tired or not. He feels like a shadow of himself, with no wants or needs, no ambition or goals. Just a body moving, constantly moving, to avoid having to think or feel. But as a bicycle quickly swooshes past him on the sidewalk, almost knocking him over, he stops in his tracks and looks around.

He finds he’s made his way to the other side of town. The air is thicker here somehow, heavier with desperation than in the area he'd tricked himself into thinking he'd belonged in for the past couple years, amongst white picket fences and successful neighbors.

Here, the atmosphere is familiar. People seeking shelter between dumpsters, some asleep, some chasing relief in a fashion Frankie is all too acquainted with. A single buzz goes off in his head when the urge comes back to him. It would be so easy. He knows where to get it, knows how it works. Where to go, who to see, what to say. It would give him the energy to do whatever he could to keep this heartache away.

So he sets his legs back in motion. At the end of the street, they make a conscious right, a left, and then his mind is wandering again, off in a different direction than his feet. And then his feet stop. He’s standing outside of a regal looking building. Off-white stone façade, adorned with French balconies and decorations, art deco mascarons staring down at him with empty eyes.

Two white columns frame the heavy front door he’s walked through so many, many times. Not since you, though. Frankie has not had the need to visit this place since you first locked eyes with him.

Without a second thought, before he can change his mind, he rings the doorbell and he’s buzzed inside. With every heavy step up the marble stairs, echoing off the shiny walls, the lights in Frankie’s brain turn off one by one. As he reaches the fourth floor, he’s merely a shell of himself, a puppet on a pair of floppy strings, longing for someone to take control.

He stands still on the landing for a minute, breathing slowly, deliberately, waiting for his arm to rise and knock on its own. It doesn’t, so he orders his hand to place three quick raps on the door.

A few seconds later, a woman comes out. Her hair is tied up, haphazardly moved out of her face and neck with an elegant claw clip. The hand she’s not using to hold the door open is placed in front of her, fingers in a fist clutching the two sides of a silk robe together, careful not to expose more of herself than what’s already poking out from underneath the short covering.

“Frankie…?” she asks, brows raised in surprise.

He gives her a nod and a weak, “Hi” in response, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. “Jessica,” he mutters.

The woman takes a step over the doorstep, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

“I didn’t expect you! We didn’t have an appointment today, did we?” Her voice is slightly panicked, worried she’s forgotten, her eyes darting quickly down to the non-existent watch on her wrist.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, opening and closing his fidgety hands. “I just…” His voice cracks, he swallows and tries again.

“I just need two minutes.”

Something in his core refuses to let him look at the woman in front of him.

He knows her well, knows she’d never judge him. She’s seen him in much more vulnerable positions than this, and yet, something about being so emotionally affected in front of her has him staring at the floor.

She leans down, bending at the waist and tilting her head to find his eyes, making him look at her. When he does, his voice is weak, but assured. He knows what he needs. “Please.”

The plea is enough. Jessica gives him a subtle nod before stepping aside and letting Frankie in.

He automatically kicks off his shoes and parks them by the door. Straightening back up, arms fixed by his sides, he awaits further instruction.

“Clothes off, sweetie,” Jessica commands softly. “And wait right here for me. Be right back.” She disappears from the hallway and into the living room, leaving Frankie alone to undress. He makes quick work of it, not bothering with all the buttons, careless about whether they end up inside out or not.

He sheds his clothes like he wants to shed his skin and grow a new one. A brand new layer, thicker than the one he has, one free of marks from your bruising touch.

On autopilot, he drops to his knees on the tiled hallway floor, hands clasped behind his back, easily and comfortably slipping back into the familiar cadence of compliance.

The hard cold surface keeps him from crashing into the floor, from falling through it, by burrowing into his knees, stone against bone. He forces all of his attention to the sensation; the dull ache in his kneecaps, the strain in his thighs. The feeling of staying in position despite the discomfort fills him with a sense of pride and control only certain things can give him. One of them is playing the part of soldier, fighting on someone else’s behalf. The other is this; surrendering completely to someone else’s needs and wishes.

Jessica is back a quick minute later.

“Come in, Frankie.”

Hands on the floor for support, he rises and follows her.

The room isn’t new to him. He’s seen it before, but only in passing, on his way to her bedroom, to the bathroom and back again. But he’s never spent time there, or had the opportunity to really see her private space. It’s a stark contrast to her cold and minimal bedroom. The space isn’t big, so the green velvet couch placed in the middle of the room instead of against a wall is a bold choice. To the left and right of the sofa sit two small side tables, the floor space covered by a massive persian rug.

Jessica gestures to this rug as she sits, legs crossed and arm thrown casually over the back of the sofa, causing her robe to cleave at the top, showing off her clavicles.

Frankie finds his place in the middle of the carpet. He should feel vulnerable, fully naked in a new environment. But Jessica’s mild authority, untroubled by the situation, keeps him calm.

“You just need two minutes, you said?”

Frankie nods.

“Very well, then. Two minutes is what you get,” she declares. And then, demanding:

“Kneel.”

And Frankie does. One knee at a time touches the soft carpet beneath him. His hands come down to support him before he sits back on his heels, head bowed, only looking up at her through his lashes when he hears her shuffle.

From the side table to her right, she picks up a round egg shaped gadget and turns the top and bottom halves in opposite directions. For a second he thinks it’s gonna vibrate, until he hears the ticking. Jessica puts the kitchen timer back down on the side table.

“Those are your precious seconds, big boy. You better start touching yourself.”

Frankie’s hand automatically shoots down to palm himself, already half hard from excitement, but seeing his hesitant movements, she clarifies.

“Two minutes to come for me, or you’re not gonna be allowed to come in a very…,” She drags out the pause between the words, “...Very long time. Understand?”

Frankie nods.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is hoarse with anticipation. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” She gives him a wink. “Now go on, make yourself come for me.”

Her command, combined with the ticking sound of time passing, has him quickly tugging at himself, eroticizing anything and everything he can see around him to get there; Jessica’s toned and shiny calves, the way a stray piece of hair has escaped her claw clip and softly caresses her cheekbone. His hand is tight around his cock as he fists himself frantically. Precum starts to gather at his tip, glistening in the soft lighting, and he smears it over his length.

Jessica spreads her legs on the couch in front of him, making Frankie groan with impatience, but she quickly places a hand in her lap, blocking his view.

“Look at you. So needy, so whiny.”

Frankie moans, not meeting her gaze, the quick pumps of his wrist making him sore and frustrated and he can feel something building, but he’s not quite there yet.

“I haven’t even undressed and you’re all worked up.” Her voice is soft and obnoxiously affectionate. “How pathetic.”

He finally looks up at her face, his sad eyes begging for more; Frankie wants her to look at him too. Wants her to see him. But she doesn’t pay him any mind, she’s only eyeing the ticking clock.

“One minute now,” she tsks. “It’s all the time you deserve, to be honest.”

And now she looks at him. Her gaze is sharp and domineering, but there’s something round behind it. Something in the shape of worry. It quickly disappears when she speaks again.

“You’re not worth any more of my attention,” she continues. “A disgrace, that’s what you are. Just a dirty, filthy masturbator.”

As she shifts slightly in her seat, her robe slips off of one of her shoulders, exposing more of her skin and chest. Frankie swallows harshly at the sight.

Mouth agape, tongue poking out to wet his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the command, his one objective: come. The soft hairs of the carpet are starting to feel like knives, boring into his skin, a welcome pain were it not distracting him from the task at hand. He shifts ever so slightly from side to side, relieving his knees from the hurt in turn.

Jessica must sense his discomfort, because she purrs,

“You’re not gonna come all over my carpet, are you?”

Frankie shakes his head frantically and begins to walk on his knees towards the shiny hardwood floor.

“I’d have to make you clean it up,” Jessica continues.

Tears are pushing behind Frankie’s eyes as he nears release. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth, trying to block out the timer’s insistent ticks.

“10 seconds, now,” she informs him. He squeezes his cock even harder, pumping himself with short quick strokes. Blood rushes through his ears, muffling Jessica’s voice as she counts down.

“Five, four…”

He’s outside of his body. His breath hitches.

“Three, two–”

As the room fills with the shrill of the alarm, Frankie’s cock pulses in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot cum onto the floor. He keeps going, using his own spend as lubrication, choking his hard length until he’s shuddering, hunched over, sweaty and teary eyed.

Frankie’s body slants forward. He steadies himself with his hands on his thighs, blinking slowly as he concentrates on catching his breath, returning his body. Jessica is patient. She waits until his chest fills and empties itself of air at a reasonable pace, and then she stands up and walks towards him.

His head shoots up when she reaches him, but she places herself behind him, a comforting hand on each of his shoulders, and bends down to kiss his head.

“Stay,” she whispers as she gets back up and moves to leave the room, Frankie left on the floor with his thoughts and his mess. He wonders if he should clean up–even if he had managed to avoid the carpet–but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Jessica is back. She’s carrying his things, his shirt hanging over her arm as she works to turn his other clothes right side out.

Slowly, carefully, she helps him back into what he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. One hand through the sleeve. Then the other. Stepping into his underwear, then his jeans, one leg at a time. She saves his hat for last. Before placing it over his messy head of curls, she cups his face with the palm of her hand.

She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips barely brushing his skin. Frankie blinks. Accepting softness from Jessica isn’t new to him, but the words she gives him after take him by surprise.

“I’m proud of you, Frankie.”

Her eyes are earnest, open, genuine. He almost finds it in him to believe her, and allows himself to lean into her touch, resting his heavy head on her palm for a second shorter than he’d like to, breaking away when the darkness behind his closed eyelids makes way for pictures of you holding him, him leaning back on you.

He quickly reassesses, telling himself this is your job, that he’s a customer, that he hadn’t even made an appointment. He should tip you at least 200%. Shaky hands dig into the pockets of his jeans, pulling out no more than two twenties.

Swearing under his breath, Frankie starts to panic.

“I– I didn’t…” he begins. “It was so spontaneous–”

She shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.” Her smile is heartfelt, which embarasses him even more. “I’m just glad you came.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, I wanna pay. I mean, speaking of coming, let me at least wipe my cum off your floor.” He gestures to the sticky mess slowly coagulating on her floorboards.

Jessica snickers.

“Do you do the dishes when you’ve eaten out too?” She raises her brows, and he chuckles, shaking his head quietly.

“It’s all part of the service, baby. Come on, let me walk you out.”

On the doorstep, he gives Jessica a quick kiss goodbye. He thanks her again, and she thanks him back, though for what he’s not sure. Visiting? Choosing her? The company? Either way, he takes her gratitude and shoves it in his pocket with the twenties. When he reaches the lobby, passing a wall full of mailboxes, he quickly locates hers, and swiftly shoves the two bills into the mouth of it.

Frankie’s feet start moving down the street, and his head absentmindedly follows. His skull is no less heavy, the feelings just as painful, and pictures of you still project onto the insides of his eyelids every time he blinks. But a lightness now coats his mind. A sense of victory. He resisted the easy way out. He chose to stay sober, even though he could’ve so easily gone back to his old ways of burying any unwanted feelings in torrents of snow.

And with that feeling of achievement, of growth and gain, he realizes where his feet are taking him. The tall buildings turn into houses, the shop windows into white picket fences. In the distance he makes out the house you’ve made a home together. He prays you’ll open the door. That you’ll give him some time. He just needs two minutes.

i have a feeling tumblr is limiting my posts or something, and i don't have a taglist, so here are some absolutely no pressure tags for people i think might enjoy this/who have liked my previous fics?? let me know if i'm wrong!!

@joelsversion @joelscruff @missredherring @iamasaddie @toxicrecs @eupheme @sweetercalypso @mrsmando @lunitareads @amanitacowboy @tieronecrush @psychedelic-ink @perotovar @thetriumphantpanda @joelsgreys @undercoverpena @pedgito @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #my writing #pedro pascal characters

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lovingapparition · 10 months

Text

i’ve got a river running right into you.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn

Warnings for descriptions of medical gore.

Ghost gets hurt. Ghost is touch starved. You just want to help. It’s awkward.

NOT COMPLETE / NO BETA

It's loud in the medical bay. The lights overhead buzz, adding their hum to the sound of clinking medical instruments, shouted calls for supplies, and the pained sounds of the injured. No set of hands are still as the wounded are wheeled in on gurneys or dragged in by their fellow soldiers. There's too much iron in the air to really adhere to the stricter medical protocols, and it's a scramble for everyone to assess and treat the damage in front of them. Each doctor's movements are efficient and practiced; stitching a wound just as a soldier would clean a gun.

Just another day on the job.

You were hustling from one sectioned off bed to another, caught in the flow of all the action in the medical bay. The thin curtains between beds did nothing to muffle the chaos of the situation. Too many bodies were moving in and out of the area, it was almost dizzying. Your section of the unit had been chaotic for the better part of three hours, leaving you no time to stop and breathe. It seems things had gone south on the recent mission. The details of which were lost on you, but they didn’t matter now.

Stepping behind a curtain, you immediately get to work assessing the situation the soldier on the bed has found herself in, and you set about putting her back together. She's only caught minor fragments of shrapnel in her upper arms and chest. Nothing deep and nothing dangerous. It doesn't take you long to patch her up, thankfully. As you work, your brain vaguely registers that your medical team must be shifting focus to the less severely injured of the bunch.

You and the soldier both breathe a shared sigh of relief as you finish up her sutures. She only needs a few, and you tell her to return in about a week to check in before they can be removed. As you fill out her paperwork with a quick hand, you notice that the sounds of the room have hushed. You must be reaching the end of the torrent of injured soldiers.

Though small, your team was incredibly efficient; working like a machine during frenzied moments like these. Every second counted, nothing could go to waste.

You briskly step into another curtained area to see a broad, masked man on the gurney. The poor bed looked like it might strain under the weight of his bulky frame and plethora of equipment. For a moment, you can't even tell what's wrong with him. Stepping closer, the scent of fresh blood hits you just as you notice the dark wetness blooming on the upper right thigh of his gray fatigues. It looks like he’s used his own belt as a tourniquet. Your eyebrows scrunch down as you move to his side, your gloved hands automatically moving to his mask.

"Are you awake? Hey-" you're interrupted with a stiff, gloved hand gripping tightly at your wrist. Looking through the skull mask's eye sockets, you can see the whites of his half-lidded eyes starkly against his eyeblack. He's staring evenly back at you.

"I'm awake," he rumbles, low in his chest as if through water, "leave the mask." The directive is clear, even through the murk of his discomfort. You're not sure who this guy is, but from his tone he clearly expects to be obeyed. You knew there was a special operations unit active out of the base, and you can only guess that he's a part of it. Those types tended to be.. odd. This guy fit the bill.

The exchange doesn't last long though, and you immediately move down to visually assess the rest of his body as you open a new emergency medical kit. "Can you feel anywhere other than your legs that you've been injured? Have you hit your head at all?" you ask, running through regular questions since he seems to be lucid enough to give clear answers. He watches you intently, blinking slowly and almost lazily when you look at him, trauma shears in hand.

He simply shakes his head, grunting what sounds like a negative response. Great, how very helpful. You sigh as you work the shears beneath his pant leg. Without even looking up at him you slide the shears up, cutting half of his pants away to reveal the mess of both fresh and congealing blood on his thigh. Without a second thought, you cut through his briefs, pushing them aside just enough to allow him privacy as you get a better view of his injuries. The belt stays for now, it’s probably the only thing keeping him from passing out.

It's not great. He definitely needed to be seen sooner, and you're worried about exactly how much blood he's lost. Some of these wounds are deep and still bleeding. Small bits of metal are visible through the clots. You can see bruising already beginning to form on the skin around the lacerations. The hot iron scent of his blood floods your nose, thick in the air between you.

"I need help in here- I've got shrapnel, heavy blood loss and I need extra hands!" you shout to your team without looking up, busy flushing his wounds with saline to clear any loose debris. Your hands are practiced and steady, one hand deftly wiping the blood and saline as you work. The man shifts, a strained breath escaping him. You spare him a sympathetic glance, knowing this part made many uncomfortable. Why had no one tended to him? He should've been among the first.

Evidently, so is the man in the bed.

Before you can ask, your colleague steps in and immediately gloves up before getting to work with you. Together, you clean and stitch the man's wounds. He remains almost totally silent for all of it, save for the soft grunts as he's sewn back together. Even with the local anesthetic, it's still a bit uncomfortable. Throughout it all, he peers at you, his pale eyes flitting between your hands and your face as you work. At one point his gloved hands twitch at his side like he wants to move them. He doesn’t.

Your colleague quickly removes the man’s vest, knowing just as you do that there could be more injuries beneath it. The vest goes in a chair by the bed for later. The black shirt shirt he's wearing beneath it isn't torn or bloody, but you’re aware of your colleague’s intention to begin feeling for broken ribs as you get his IV drip ready.

His hands catch your colleague’s wrists with a quickness you wouldn’t have thought possible given the amount of blood he’s already lost. “That’s enough,” he hisses. Your head snaps up, and you can only see the tight narrowing of his eyes through the mask. Before you can react, your colleague jerks from his grip.

"I need to get these pants the rest of the way off, and then we're done. I'll get you cleaned up and finished for the night," you explain, falling back into your doctor mindset and practiced speech to ease the tension. He makes no response to this, so you take his silence as the go ahead. It's not like his pants were salvageable anyway.

"Are you gonna be okay in here? I have to go check on someone," your colleague asks, clearly annoyed. It wasn’t anything new to have a rude patient, but everyone’s nerves were fried after the hectic shift. You couldn’t blame them at all.

You wave them off, tired. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got him. Shouldn’t be much longer anyway.” They head off, and you turn back to the man, sighing. He’s clearly had a rough night, maybe he could use the benefit of the doubt. You were certain that you’d be a bit pissy after catching some shrapnel.

"Do you think you can get into a clean bed without ripping those stitches?" you ask tiredly as you remove your gloves. Without looking up, you move to unlace his boot. You swear you can feel him watching your fingers loosen the laces, watching your hand wrap around his ankle as you pull the boot off. His stare holds a weight in it you've never experienced before. When you look up at him, he's ready looking away.

You offer him a fresh towel for privacy as you cut his pants and briefs the rest of the way off and gingerly slide them from beneath him. They go straight in the red trash bin specifically for biohazard waste. You gingerly clean his thigh one last time and apply a thin layer of ointment to his sutures to encourage healing before you wrap his thigh in gauze. He helpfully spreads his legs enough to allow you to securely tape the gauze in place. His skin is warm, even through your gloves.

You blink once, twice, forcing the thought away as you finish up.

"I can." is all you get out of him. You sigh, it's been a long day. His boots join his vest in the chair, and you roll a clean cot into his room. This one has a thin cotton sheet and a blanket on it. You could almost swear his head is cocked, ever so slightly, with a question, and you answer it without thinking. "You're sleeping here tonight. You've lost a lot of blood and you'll need IV fluids to recover. It's not much, but it's better than that gurney."

He huffs, you can only guess he’s annoyed, but he looks the bed over. The cushioned pad was minimal at best. He would definitely feel it in the morning in addition to whatever pain arose from his stitches. “Look, I’m going to override whatever authority you think you have here. It’s safest for us to be able to watch you, just for tonight.” It’s your turn to leave him without room to argue.

For a long moment, he looks at you indignantly, like he’s not covering himself with a thin towel and your sutures aren't in his thigh. Then the tension slowly eases out of his shoulders, and he nods once.

You don't look away as he slides his legs around to the edge of the gurney, one massive hand still covering himself with the towel for decency. It's nothing you haven't seen before, and you're more concerned with whether or not he's okay to stand without support. You step closer, clearing your throat to cut the silence.

You roll an IV pole to the side of his cot and hand the fluids you’d prepared earlier on it. “Okay, last thing and then I’ll fuck off for the night, I swear,” you tell him dryly. He huffs, a short sound that’s close to a laugh, you think.

"I'm here, if you need a hand," you tell him, more confidently than you feel. Seeing him standing now you realize he's nearly a full head taller and twice as broad as you. Your hand finds his elbow, and to your surprise he doesn't tell you to back off as you help him ease into the bed.

A low, cut off groan escapes him as he sits tentatively on the edge of the bed. When he eases back to lay down, his shirt rides up just enough to hint at the bloom of a purple bruise draped over his side. His eyes are pinched shut as he slowly settles into bed.

He doesn’t get the chance to try to help himself get comfortable. “Here, just let me. I’ve got it.” You tell him quietly, batting his hands away from the sheets. You gingerly help him maneuver his legs into a comfortable position and tuck the blankets loosely around him. Another stolen glance at him tells you he’s still got that dreamy half lidded look. It’s enough for you to not exactly trust him with getting settled in bed on his own.

“I’m going to give you an IV to replace the fluids you lost and some light pain medication. Then we’re all done,” You tell him as you add more of those shitty military issue pillows to the bed. It’s the least you can do to make him comfortable. The local anesthetic won’t last him the entire night, and you’re certain the rest of his body must be sore from the aftermath of the mission.

Placing his IV goes without fuss. He's slumped back against the pillows, breathing evenly as you fill out his paperwork for his overnight check in. You'd managed to fill out most of it, but you still didn't know his name or what unit he belonged to. "Hey, what's your name and unit? I need to fill this sheet out for my records,” you ask, not even looking up.

"Ghost. One four one," each rumbling word has you bristling, your face paling. Oh hell.

"..Thank you sir." Your throat feels like it’s closing up. You don’t even bother asking for his actual name. You’d heard about a Ghost on the base, but you’d never seen him; never thought you would. It was all just rumors, something to shoot the shit about over dinner in the cafeteria.

You wanted to sink into the floor. How could you have missed the literal skull mask? The hectic rush of the day coupled with your exhaustion must have completely cleared your brain out of any irrelevant gossip, and now it was biting you in the ass. For the last half hour you’d been practically ogling him and talking to him like he was any other soldier on the base.

The rest of the shift moves by in a blur, it’s mostly paperwork and cleanup since everyone has been seen too. You luckily are not chosen to pass food out, so you’re saved the further embarrassment of having to interact with Ghost even more. With any luck tomorrow morning would be the last you two ever speak, and he could go back to being invisible to you, and you’d be saved from dying of embarrassment.

A low chuckle rolls from his chest, and your head sharply snaps up. You fight the urge to apologize and dig your hole deeper. You can feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you realize he’s laughing at you. You had heard rumors about his particularly efficient methods of combat and data extraction from captured enemies; some of the things you’d heard made your spine chill.

You can only smile nervously back at him and tiredly drag your hand over your eyes. You can only cling to the last vestiges of professionalism that you have left. “You’re all set here. Once things calm down someone will be by with some food for you, if you feel like eating,” you tell him, your mouth dry. He hums softly in response, and you figure the pain medication has started to take effect. “I’ll be back in the morning to check in, have a good night, sir.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost #cod #cod mw ghost #touchstarved #medical gore #slow burn #fluff #this is SOOOOO SOOOOO self indulgent and that's why it's such a slow burn lol #sorry guys like nearly nothing happened #just some *gasp* charged moments*#anyways. i've got this pretty much planned out i just gotta write the rest of the goddamn thing now #AHHHH #it'll probably get spicy who knows !#my writing

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look-at-the-soul · 22 days

Note

Cia I adore this gif you sent! (Thank you for the inspiration!!) I immediately got the idea but other stories came to my mind first 🤭

Still loving you

Robert Fischer x reader (and it’s also part of my grandma tribute) ♥️✨

Word count: 3,246

Robert waited next to the carrousel, there had been trouble with the system and people had to wait in order to pass with a custom. He just hoped this would be solved quickly because he had a meeting in…

That laugh and that voice only belonged to someone. Turning around he stopped looking at the screen on his phone.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

¿Y/N?

Robert felt his body froze, his heart rate increased and memories came back and hit him like an avalanche. After all these years.

Flashback:

Y/N felt her knees go weak the moment she saw Rob stepping down his vehicle. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a silky black tie and that effortlessly hairstyle that suited him so well, his face seemed to be made by a Greek God.

It was odd that he asked about her appointment at the salon, perhaps he’d send his driver to pick her up for the gala…

She tried to grab his face to give him a welcome kiss, but Robert stopped her, giving Y/N an emotionless stare. She soon was aware of his cold reaction.

“What’s wrong?”

Robert shifted his weight from one foot to another uncomfortably.

“I’m going to the United States.”

Y/N blinked confused by his statement.

“What? When?”

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but instead he decided to hide his hands inside his pockets. “Tomorrow night, it’s all settled.”

“But.. but I thought you’d be starting on the September course.”

“No, I enrolled in the summer program.”

“Okay, I could cancel my Venice holiday and meet you there then…” Y/N proposed, thinking of some way to make it work.

They had just graduated and she was hoping they’d take the next step in their relationship soon, so moving in while he focused on his master degree in a foreign country sounded promising.

“I could start hunting apartments right away, are you staying in a hotel meanwhile babe?” She smiled again, thinking it could be good he took the lead and moved there first, so he could explore the area and find potential places. “But first I’d need to fly there, do you think your Dad would still let me use his private plane? He had said before anytime, but since you’ll be there…”

“Y/N…” the way he said her name, made her look at him. But she didn’t like what she found in his eyes. “This is why I needed to see you. I’m going away for a couple of years, we’ve to end this. Right here, before I go.”

And she couldn’t hear anything else he said, because her ears were buzzing, she felt like she was underwater and that someone was stealing the air from her lungs.

“But I could fly over and be there, lots of people have a long distance relationship nowadays.”

“Don’t make this more difficult.” He begged, making an effort to keep his emotions at bay.

“You can’t be serious.” Y/N blinked nervously, trying to find for a sign in Robert’s face that this was a bad joke.

She waited a few minutes, eagerly to hear him ask her to come with him, that he was only messing with her, he was always joking.

But when he didn’t back off, she swallowed hard.

“Really? You can’t even tell me a valid reason to break up with me?” Tears would start falling any minute now.

“You know I’m going to start my master degree overseas. It’s for the best.” Robert tried to excuse his sudden decision.

“The best?”

She barely had time to process the sudden news. How long had he been planning this?

Anger took over her, pinching the bridge of her nose, she tried to control her emotions. “You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want Robert! Go and study your goddamn master, I hate you!”

Taking her purse, Y/N rushed, needed to get to her car as fast as she could. She had dreamed Robert would ask her to go with him to the United States, to live together and then, get married. But instead he broke her heart? He was he love of her life, they had plans together for the future, they were good… or at least she thought so, now realizing how selfish he really was.

Tears ran free down her face and she cursed in frustration now realizing how selfish he really was. The son of a bitch, he didn’t care about anyone else but himself.

Y/N never saw the way he broke into a crying mess. Feeling guilt eat him alive for causing her such pain. But he was suffering as much as her or probably even more, she had been his rock, his safe place to hide, he could be real and honest with Y/N. But now, not only she was gone, but that part of him as well.

Robert kept his head down during the entire ride to the charity event his family was hosting, thankfully his driver kept quiet. Images of Y/N giving him a look full of sadness and disappointment for breaking up with her filled his mind, he hoped the image would stop haunting him at some point. He didn’t want that to happen, but he was convinced if he focused solely on his studies, he’d make his father proud.

They were still young, he wanted to prove he was worth of the Fischer company and he needed to work hard to achieve that.

Putting on an emotionless expression, he took a few shaky breaths to mask the fact that he was dealing with a broken heart.

Walking past the directors and board members of the company, he shook some hands, everybody was expecting a lot of things from him, he had a very important place to fill in…

“Darling, over here!” His grandmother’s voice caught his attention among the people. “Where’s Y/N?” She turned her face around, searching for her.

“She isn’t here grandma.”

His maternal grandmother gave him an expectant look.

“Why not? She was so excited yesterday.”

“I just broke up with her.” He explained uncomfortably, his jaw clenching.

His grandmother couldn’t believe his words, Y/N was the most charming girl she had ever met, she had Robert drooling over her, her family was respectable, she was well educated, smart, funny, beautiful, everything anyone would kill to be.

“I need to focus on my maste-”

But his grandma was already shaking her head and giving him a disapproving glance.

“This is the worst decision you’ve ever made. And you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

(End of flashback)

And his grandmother was right, he did regret it every single day. He finished his master and started working for his father’s company, he had made his family’s wealth bigger than he ever imagined.

But none of that really mattered, because he let true love slip away from him that night.

And now she was standing a few steps away from him. And she was still the most beautiful girl in the room.

“Why is that man staring at you?”

Zoe whispered at her friend confused. Was he even blinking?

Y/N frowned and turning her face around, she found the man that broke her heart years ago.

The world stopped spinning for an instant and the air escaped her lungs. She could practically feel her blood running out of her body.

All the memories flashing back at her, as if it was a movie scene. His cold words playing over and over in her mind.

No, time doesn't heal anything. It’s just a way to disguise the pain people say to cover an uncomfortable silence.

And she knew it still hurt like the first day because even after all these years, she still cared about him.

Robert managed to leave his initial shock behind, and he finally started moving towards her.

What should he say? Should he greet her with a kiss on the cheek or keep his distance?

The heaviness in his heart grew as he saw Y/N blinking, looking from side to side as if trying to find a way to avoid him.

“Y/N.” Her name on his lips seemed to burn.

She could feel her friends whispering in shock, they must’ve realized by now who he was because they knew the story.

How are you supposed to react in moments like these? Say it’s lovely to see you! No, because it wasn’t.

Could this be their chance to talk about what happened? He wondered if she had someone in her life. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came up.

“Robert.” She raised her eyebrows, but other than that, he didn’t get much. Except she folded her arms in front of her chest, in a protective reaction. “All right, let’s go.” She stammered to the girls, wanting to go as fast as she could.

“There’s a problem with the car rental, they canceled.” Zoe announced and threw a subtle glance in Robert’s direction, he was still standing there, looking at Y/N.

He noticed Y/N wasn’t wearing a wedding band on her left hand, she was carrying a book in her bag.

“We’ll get an Uber then.” Y/N proposed trying to make her friends start walking.

“It’s extra expensive right now, it’s rush hour.”

“I’ve a driver waiting for me.” Offered Robert. “I could take you anywhere.”

A heavy silence fell upon them, you could hear a pin drop. Zoe and Lisa looked at each other, not fully believing what was happening. Then, they looked at Y/N.

“This isn’t a good idea.” She admitted in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey c’omon we won’t be able to make it on time with this traffic.” Lisa pointed out.

Zoe gave Robert a suspicious look.

Whatever was crossing his mind, his ego dropped to the floor, he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

“I think a ride won’t hurt nobody, right?”

Before Y/N could protest, Lisa practically jumped on Robert, not wanting to give Y/N time to react. “I hope you’ve enough space in that vehicle because we overpacked.” And she grabbed him by the arm as if they were long time friends. “I’m Lisa.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Y/N grabbed Zoe’s hand for reassurance.

“Take a deep breath honey, this is not the right time to have a breakdown, you’re stronger than this.”

“Why him? Why now? After all this time…” Y/N’s eyes darted again towards Robert, who was walking several steps ahead with Lisa still hanging from his arm.

“I don’t know, but perhaps you were meant to run into each other, it was just a matter of time.” Zoe gave her friend a sympathetic look. “It still affects you.”

Her friend’s statement made Y/N stop walking.

It did. It still hurt her definitely. But it was only because Robert had been the love of life.

That was the truth, plain and simple, over time she of course started dating another man, but as soon as she realized things were about to get serious or that he would take the next step she decided to end the relationship not wanting to get married to the wrong man.

She wasn’t scared of marriage, she hated the idea of waking up one day and feel disappointed of the choices she made, it didn’t make sense probably for most of the people, but she rather choose to be alone.

Of course she never expected to see Robert again, there were a lot of things left unsaid between them. And all of those years apart didn’t prepare her to face him once more.

She remained quiet on their way towards his vehicle, the internal turmoil taking over with each step she took. And there he was holding the door open for her, giving her the sad and traumatized puppy eyes a pet would use after being scolded.

“I’ll go in the back.” Announced Zoe climbing in while the driver took their luggage.

Lisa gave her friend a curious look. “Can I go in the front? I get car-sick.”

That left Y/N sharing the second row of seats with Robert.

Y/N shook her head slightly while she tried to control her heart drumming like crazy, all their memories flashing her back in time to when they were happy, when they first kissed, when they first made love and of course, when he broke her heart.

A heavy and uncomfortable silence filled inside the vehicle.

Y/N tried to focus her gaze in the sighting they were passing through the busy streets, the man in the bicycle, the three women at the café, the elderly couple with their dog, anything but the man sitting next to her that was subtly looking at her and clearing his throat. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her soul.

“Where am I driving to Sir?” The driver asked, waiting for instructions.

Lisa gave him Y/N address, she had a small loft in the city and they’d be staying there for the book signing event.

A million thoughts crossed Robert’s mind, he wanted to apologize first. But after all those years? Y/N could hardly stand to be in the same car with him clearly. What could he say? How could he even even begin to justify what he did to her back then? There wasn’t a single valid reason for leaving her the way he did.

And for what? To get his father’s approval? To show the old man that he was worth to be his son?

He lost the best damn thing that could ever happen to him. He lost her over nothing.

But now he was willing to give everything for her.

When they arrived, Y/N thanked the driver, took her bags and mumbled a very lowly thanks to Robert through gritted teeth, then she excused to rush to use the ladies room, leaving Robert standing there in the middle not knowing what to do with a million words to say and a sincere apology trapped in his lips.

Zoe approached him quietly, she had known Y/N for over ten years and given her reaction to the odd encounter, despite all, she knew Y/N still cared about him.

“Can I ask you a question before anything else?”

Robert crossed his arms and gave her a nod.

“Are you single?” That was the most important thing to know first.

“Yes.”

Then, onto the next question. “Call me a witch if you want, I don’t know you… but I know her. Do you still have feelings or something? I know it got messy the last time you talked but...”

Robert allowed himself to let his guard down, the one he had built after losing Y/N. He never let another woman into his heart. His bed? Yes. But not his heart.

“I don’t think it matters, she can hardly stand to look at me for two seconds.” He saw the pain was still there in her eyes.

“She’s going to hate me for doing this but if I can help in any way it’s worth the risk…” Zoe assured him. “I’ve a book signing today at four o’clock, this is the address.” Noticing the confusion in Robert’s eyes, she added; “this isn’t my business but I know the two of you’ve an unfinished business.”

Robert stared at the flyer, wondering what was the right thing to do.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh it’s going to be hard, trust me.” Zoe then took her best friend side. “And if you hurt her again, I’m going to give you hell for ruining it twice.”

As the girls walked inside the apartment, Robert took his time to process everything, and taking his phone, he called his assistant to clear his schedule for the day, his mind couldn’t stop thinking of the series of events that just happened.

***

Robert took a look at his watch impatiently, then stared out the window of his vehicle and his eyes stopped at the women walking down the street. A grandma with what looked like her granddaughter, strolling with their arms linked, their eyes focused in the articles before their eyes and it made him think immediately of Y/N and her grandmother. How many times did he found them just like that, then they’d drive back into her grandmas house for lunch or dinner, the same with his grandmother.

When everything was simpler and happier. When they were together.

“Mr. Fischer, they are done signing the books.” His driver informed him.

Marcus didn’t ask him anything further, and without intention the man pressed him to make a choice. Walk in the book store and try to apologize to Y/N or drive away and leave behind a small possibility to get her back.

All damn day he kept thinking about her and what they had. How different his life would be if only he didn’t let her go that day.

But guilt was eating him alive, for the damage he caused her.

Did he deserve to be happy for once?

A bald man stepped out of the store, holding the door open and then he saw Zoe and Lisa walking out.

But when he saw Y/N hiding her beautiful eyes behind her sunglasses, he soon realized by just one look that he never stopped loving her.

“Y/N!” It was an impulsive move, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Wait…” he pleaded her, the three girls turned around to face him.

She gave him a confused look, not knowing what he was doing there or how he knew. Would the feeling of being incomplete without Robert would ever go away? Her heartbeat went crazy.

Knowing there was a possibility that Y/N could reject him, Robert cleared his throat and hid his hands inside his pockets. “I owe you a sincere apology, Y/N and I know it won’t take away what I did…” two pairs of curious eyes stared back at him. “I’m really sorry.”

Y/N stood there processing his words unsure of what to do or say. A million thoughts crossing her mind.

“If you want, we could talk? Privately.” He struggled to say the words, not because he didn’t mean it, because he was terrified of getting a negative answer. His next words came out as whisper whilst he looked down. “If you agree of course.”

Time slowed as Y/N took a deep breath, pondering on his words. Had she been waiting all her life for this moment? Was this the closure her heart needed?

She opened her mouth to explain him, she already had plans with her friends, but Zoe gave her a disapproving glance, reading her mind.

“I don’t know what will happen next,” Y/N said cautiously, “but I think a chat it’s a good start.”

“Thank you.”

As soon as she said those words, she felt free, relieved even for carrying the burden for so long. Whilst for Robert, this was the small light at the end of the tunnel.

They both knew it would take a lot of time to rebuild a relationship like they did. But at least this was the first step to try to get back the love they once had.

And without a doubt, he still loved Y/N.

Robert Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @ttzamara @gretelshelby @camilahpg03 @acillianproblem

@chishiyasan @allyly @fastfan @thomashelbyswife @lespendy

@onlydeadcells @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @cloudofdisney @blondie-22 @esposadomd

@stevie75 @justrainandcoffee @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @adaydreamaway08

@darleneslane @sloanexx @shaddixlife @forbidden-forest-witch @forgottenpeakywriter

@ange-thoughts @babaohhhriley @kmc1989 @allie131313 @everythingelseisextra

@nela-cutie @betty21rose @aphroditeslover11 @lau219

#that’s what Cill said #robert fischer x y/n #robert fischer x you #robert fischer fanfic #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x reader #cillian murphy characters #robert fischer inception

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accio-victuuri · 11 months

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YIZHAN’S 06.29 HK Event ( A Summary ) ✨

As the title says, this will be a timeline of sorts around the show. It’s always a treat to see them in one place so the next step is really to archive the story behind it. A mix of events, cpns & fandom reflections.

The last part of this is more on my words on why ( i think ) they didn’t interact or even see each other at the event, if you’re interested in that, you can scroll down and skip the others.

This is gonna be a long post, Enjoy! ^^

What is the event all about?

The name of the show is The Greater Bay Area Film Concert 2023 and the venue is in Hongkong. It is described as :

More than a hundred filmmakers, musicians, cultural and sports technology representatives from both sides of the Taiwan Strait as well as Hong Kong and Macao will gather on the banks of the Xiangjiang River to work together Write a new picture of Chinese-style modernization belonging to the Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area.

It is also a big event because it is broadcasted in multiple platforms:

CCTV 6 Movie Channel, Phoenix Satellite TV Chinese Channel, Phoenix Satellite TV Hong Kong Channel, Guangdong Satellite TV, Shenzhen Satellite TV, Radio Television Hong Kong, and Macao Radio and Television , Australia and Asia Satellite TV and other TV platforms live broadcast, China Central People's Broadcasting Corporation, Hong Kong TVB recorded and broadcast, movie channel Rong Media, 1905 Movie Network, Phoenix.com, Phoenix Show and other major media platforms of the whole network broadcast simultaneously.

I personally haven’t experienced an event they both attended — or actually even as individuals as endorsed as this. It is considered a “government” event and it would make sense that they will be present. Even if they are still considered “traffic” stars, this time, it works in their favor because they need the audience that these two will bring.

It is labeled as a “concert” but it’s truly a “party” for the 26th anniversary of Hong Kong’s return to China. The actual date is 7/1, but this is a primer to that, and why it’s taking place in HK. This is a touchy subject so I won’t go into detail and i feel like a good number of us are happy to see them perform but at the same time knowing what this party is about makes us feel off. It’s always been a popular theory among turtles that our best bet for a same event and interaction is for a government approved celebration. This way, their fans will ( hopefully ) be in their best behavior.

The same sentiment was actually passed on to turtles the day before the event. Reminding that it’s not like the other shows where you can say whatever.

Before the 629 Party:

By the last week of June, there were already some buzz surrounding the show and who will be attending. The most talked about being XZ & WYB. Melons were already releasing news about it but there were still talk about them not being in the same place.

It could be the same show but they will be in completely different places. It got cpfs excited, knowing how rough the past days were with all the YBO business, this is exactly what a lot of fans needed. some really positive news. Though there were some minor signs that all is well, a loud sign like this was so much better.

6.26, fans were talking about a potential double airport which turned out to not be true. However, this added fuel to the fire that they will both attend.

6.27 for cpfs was of course all about celebrating CQL’s 4th anniversary and well it was truly a special day. The weekend before, cpfs were already sharing face-to-face events and online materials on the actual day was a lot. It is the answer to the question of whether the cp fandom was already broken. The answer is a very loud No. Same day, Yubin also shared a video that showed a split second glimpse of them back in 2018 and eating hotpot. At this point, it was only a matter of time for them to be in the same event.

6.28, around 8:30 AM there were videos and then photos of XZ leaving and flying to HK. This lined up with melons that he will leave on this day. Even if there are no official announcements yet, it was the answer we were looking for. He was looking so good and his hair was tied up — which of course made us think of all the times they both had this style. the best. and also how they look so similar. twins!!!!

and well, how it is sort of similar to how lei yu’s hair was tied too in BTF.

There is a speculation that he was really supposed to fly 629 but that information was leaked so they decided against it. Or they booked multiple flights. The reason is @ the airport, there was a video of ZZ looking through his bag when he was about to go to the gate and it seemed like he forgot important things. So his staff had to leave and get it. It leads us to believe that he may not be prepared to go on that flight in particular.

They were also on HS as attending. This goes to show how no one is over BJYX. lol. It still brings the heat, because of who they are as individuals and moreso as a pair. There are so many guests, a lot of them really well-know names to the general public but the entertainment blogs know who to talk about.

10:00 & 10:15 AM Movie Channel weibo account announced the attendees and two very familiar faces are on it. The news we have all been waiting to hear has been confirmed.

It’s cute that the photos they used were from the recent Weibo Night. GG’s is what he used for the event poster.

11:25 AM Yibo-official shared that WYB is attending.

Next up, the program list was revealed and ZZ & WYB are confirmed to be performing. WYB = Wuming OST and ZZ will sing Run Without Care.

An event like this takes careful planning and while i do believe that them attending is not about “pleasing cpfs” — it doesn’t take away the fact that it feels like a gift to us. the drama from the past days. cql 4th anniversary. The universe is on our side on this one.

2:00 PM - ZZ landed in Hongkong. 🛬

3:00 PM - XZS posts about ZZ attending

In the evening, Movie Channel weibo account had a pre-show livestream related to the event and ZZ & WYB were talked about and evaluated.

6.29, at approximately 8:00 AM, Bobo is seen at the airport and is on his way to Shenzhen then to HK. Wearing a really cute Pokemon shirt!!!! People are saying he took this route cause he doesn’t want to be photographed by the public.

The HS bringing them together is also trending so early, #7 on general HS and #11 on entertainment. Everyone is so excited! HK based media accounts on weibo are also joining in and posting about the event with the boys as the main photo.

( these screenshots taken at the time of posting, however hours later, they were edited to include other acts in p2 especially. )

Some videos about them were also circling around, i don’t really think these are necessary cause it’s different when a cpf makes them and meant for the fandom audience compared to the “media”putting their own spin to it. Stuff like these are definitely a hit or miss and may be antis in disguise.

Around 12nn, WYB is in Shenzhen and on the way to HK. His itinerary really caused the confusion before. cause people really thought there was another event in SZ cause why would he go that route.

BJYX was also on HS before the event. In the regular one, that high up, not even entertainment.

6PM , WYB is seen attending the rehearsal for the show. There were also talks of how far they might be seated from each other.

The program started 30 minutes earlier than the broadcast of 8:00 PM. That’s why the fancams were released way earlier. Yibo left right after his performance and didn’t spend that much time with the other guests/audience.

XZ was seen around 9PM, he spent time in the audience then performed as well. He also left right after.

Both of them were all over HS. moreso GG.

Media Compilation 📸

• XZ Studio

pre show photoshoot fire one | two

live photos

XZ’s performance of 潇洒走一回

• Yibo-Official

pre-show photoshoot b&w

live photos

WYB’s performance of Wuming

CPN clues here and there

1. The joint event is on a Thursday, and as we all know, Thursday is a good day to see you.

2. The song chosen for XZ was part of a record released back in 10-28-1991. It’s the same birth month & year as him, but the date is such a good coincidence. 28. Ai Bo ( Love Bo ) 🫶🏼

3. Emphasis on Yibo’s moles in one of the YBO photos. Bobo is known for other things physically but not really his moles, so it’s interesting how it was highlighted. A mole is really more of XZ’s thing so i can’t help but feel like there is something there 👀 ; a connection being made.

4. I know some people were bummed that ZZ was not in the audience, or hasn’t even showed up at the tables when Bobo performed. Well, he missed alot too. It’s not like it was only Yibo’s.

Same thing with WYB leaving the event right after his performance. We know this is his usual MO but we had hopes anyway.

I know it’s heartbreaking but we have to focus on the positive that they are in the same event ! ✨we will get there, we just have to be patient and remember that their safety is the most important.

5. ZZ’s table mates are Yoshi ( WYB’s BTF co star and friend ) as well as Huang Bo ( WYB’s One and Only co star ). What a coincidence. 🫢🫢

6. This photo from XZS. 📸 what a great shot considering WYB performed Wuming.

7. Here we go again with their usual strategy of not posting at the same time when they are at an event. You can say that this was somehow coordinated by the people from the show. We noticed WYB was scheduled at the start to get traffic early, and then ZZ close to the last to get people to stay till the final hours.

However, XZS really posted and showed XZ after WYB’s performance of Wuming was broadcasted. The screenshot i’m posting shows Movie Channel posted at :52, but that’s a bit late cause minutes before that other accounts have already shared. Even me. I was uploading the Wuming performance here on tumblr when XZS popped up on my Weibo notification.

Interpret it how you want, but the two are not here to “compete”.

A fan was able to see them shooting these materials 628, so they could have posted it anytime before the actual broadcast but didn’t.

8. Let’s go back to ZZ’s photos lol. It’s 18 photos uploaded but the actual number of shots is 33. What a good combination! Also his posting time is 20:50, or that can also be 8:50. 8/5. Yibo’s birthday 😭

9. The Movie Channel weibo accounted posted a video cut of their performance. Just them. And put a caption like “ it’s like the same stage” cause they did perform on the same stage, just at different times 😂 but then it was later edited out / deleted. Lol. Here is the video someone saved of the cut.

10. The IP address in ZZ’s video post is in Guangdong. Again, i’m not sure how these IPs work or if a staff is posting for him but the thing is this place is close to Shenzhen. WYB is rumored to be going from HK to Shenzhen again so who knows. It’s all CPN anyway ☺️

11. ZZ’s pants, it has a heart that is outlined with a color green.

There are probably more out there, but these are the interesting ones i’m including as of now. If some “big” ones show itself then i will just make a separate post on it. I find that the sweetest candies from events happen weeks or months later. When we get more “clues.” In the meantime i hope enjoyed these ones.

========================

Personal thoughts on “not interacting” and the reality of being a BXG.

I’m using this post/photos from one of my favorite BJYX fansite to start and give a general theme of what my stand is with this whole thing. “no need to prove it.”

I think most of us dare hoped, but the reality is, when it comes to same events with them, we should always manage our expectations. do not expect anything. There are some who are frustrated because of what they think ZZ/WYB should do or act around each other — as if we really have a say on that. As someone who has been on here for quite some time, it is a fact that being a BXG is hard. You don’t have to believe in BJYXSZD, but if you’re here to see cute interactions like how “CPs” do then this is not the fandom for you. It takes a whole lot of understanding of their status as celebrities and the toxicity between their solo fans as well as C-ent in general. Then add the whole 2*7 incident. Some may say it’s so easy to just interact and shut people up. No it’s not. Xiao Zhan is not just Xiao Zhan ; Wang Yibo is not just Wang Yibo. The reality is, at events like this, they are products. Both of them have millions or billions riding on them. So there you go. It’s not as easy as everyone thinks. I understand if people feel bummed — it’s okay to leave the CPF side of the fandom if that will be better for you. There is no shame in letting go if it only upsets you because fandom should make you happy. As I said, it takes a certain kind of person to stay and continue believing in them.

As CPFs, we should be kinder to them both. more understanding. not too demanding. We are the ones who are supposed to be on their side and know why they do certain things. It is tiring to be this selfless but it is what it is.

Now on to the more serious reason…

As I’ve mentioned above, this event is really not the “party” for entertainment everyone is making it out to be. It’s not an NYE program. It’s to celebrate the anniversary of HK’s return to China and you all know how that paints this as political. The same goes for celebrities who attended this event.

Both of them were already on HS leading up to it. HK media are focusing on them. Even during the event, the HS about them was so high up.

This is why I think they decided to not give any chance for the public to see them in the same space. If ZZ was there, the camera will surely pan to him when WYB was performing. If not, there will be fancams and people will scrutinize every micro expressions. Their solo fans will be at war. and well basically, the event will be about them. It’s not the greater bay area film concert anymore. It’s the BOJUNYIXIAO REUNION SHOW. Which is something they don’t want. The “celebration” shouldn’t be about them at all. Tho the media used them to hype it up. At the end of the day, they don’t want and need that kind of attention. It’s okay when it’s about their performance but not anything else.

They want to be known as individuals and not as a “pairing” even tho a lot of people and not just cpfs are interested in what will happen if they go on the same stage and interact 😂😂😂😂 These two really act like a real celebrity couple in c-ent who don’t interact in events!

Right now, I’m really happy to see them onstage and get all the content. I’m comforted that they are in the same city and were basically MIA days before they popped up at the airport to leave so hopefully they get to spend more time together!

To my fellow bxgs who believe, stay strong! ♥️💛💚.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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witchofthesouls · 8 months

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Some more TFP Soundwave and his engineer SO with the split-sparks.

Soundwave monitors, and this is no different.

You make no reaction as he shifts. His spindly digits stroke over the swollen abdomen, and the outpour of heat from your bare protoform buzzes pleasantly across his servo and down his wingspan.

The newsparks dream within your frame. Soundwave is careful as he nudges the nascent minds, cradling their developing edges so gently so they don't collapse. Minds are usually flexible and malleable, but he has no direct experience with newsparks, let alone those within a carriage.

Even nestled next to each other, the newsparks can't truly differentiate themselves as separate beings. Soundwave can't tell if it's related to their split-spark status or if it's normal for siblings as they're deeply entwined within their carrier's frame, curled up like shy lilleth chicks tucked within a tiny nest of wires and fiberglass.

They stir by his near intrusion. With a yawn and mounting curiosity, they poke back by kicking his servo. They don't have any experience with color or sight, so they associate safety with being cozy and warm in viscous fluids, the sliding between their bodies and the chamber, the sound of your warped voice, the constant, soothing noise of your sparkbeat and lines, and the reflective beat of his own field.

Of course, this wakes you up as well as they kick something sensitive in their excitement. You groan into the pillow, "Almost there. You little slaggers will be out of me in no time."

He can't help but smile as the sound of your voice stirs them up more as he helps you out of the berth.

_____________

Soundwave works, typing and filtering away data from multiple points as Starscream monologues. In the bottom left corner of his HUD, Laserbeak feeds a live stream of your current position: going over blueprints with a team of Vehicons on the second floor. He watches you wave a servo to zoom in on the specs, the light shifts as you highlight the focused areas. He also spies how you absentmindedly try to grab the empty cup of zinc and copper nuggets and frown at its state.

Without a pause, he orders more online and adds nickel, magnesium, and hematite as he looks into the messages Laserbeak sent.

The Vehicons you oversee weren't just handpicked for their aptitude in your field but with other considerations in mind. C4-PT-IN and his cool head with a long history of surviving unlikely odds. M3-3R-1T and their old history under Hook's rule of the med-bay. Z0-0L-00 and their long experience with explosives.

Ever since your SOS and that close call with Mortilus behind these very walls, Soundwave has meticulously planned for every contingency.

___________

"Still hard at work, I see." Starscream comments, heels clicking at the station as Soundwave continues to type. You're back inside the habsuite and fiddling with the cradle-pod, adding a new mechanism under Laserbeak's gaze.

"I'm not an unreasonable leader, Soundwave." Starscream adds, and he doesn't budge: filtering, categorizing, enabling, and so much more as he feeds the information flow to where it's needed.

The Seeker scoffs, "Must I really spell it out for you? Enough. You've handled the workload for the week. If you're really adamant about staying here, then go take a long break to attend to personal matters. That carrier will need far more than a drone for their health."

Soundwave disengages with the console as Starscream begins to input codes to lock him out. He leaves behind the bridge and rechecks the cameras and their new placements, cross-referencing with all of your work sites and future plans to ensure full coverage of the areas.

He slacked off before, it won't happen again.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #soundwave #reader insert #con!reader #cybertronian!reader #pregnancy #bitlets #sparklings #medical complications #starscream #soundwave being soundwave #maccadam #my writing

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freesia-writes · 1 year

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OMG congratulations on hitting 500!!!!

i love these prompts and its so hard to choose lol.

definitely Kix and i'm thinking i like #16.

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

thank you darling, and here's to 100 more! 💜🧡

Thank youuuu! I appreciated your suggestions on this one! :D Hope it's a fun read. <3

Kix x GN!Jedi!Reader Word Count: 3k Content Warnings: PG-13 battle stuff, medical treatment, and kissin. Dividers courtesy of @djarrex

GORGEOUS KIX FACE by @rosemarynightmares-art (though this story takes place when he still had his short buzz cut, I had to share it cause his eyes and lips are just... *MWAH*)

Your lightsaber was a blur in front of you, deflecting blaster bolts and sending them flying back toward the rows of droids. The sound was deafening, lights flashing everywhere, shuddering blasts rocking the ground, but you were honed into the Force, silencing all but your own path through it all. The Separatists were retreating, scattering and falling back to the canyon beyond, and you and the 501st were pressing forward.

A pained yell to your left caught your attention, as you heard and felt the trooper get shot in the thigh. He collapsed, still trying to level his DC-17 at the droids ahead, and you leapt in front of him, providing cover as the rest of the squad continued to force the retreat. As the air slowly cleared, the battle dying down for the time being, you turned to place your hand on the fallen trooper, heart aching at the pain you felt radiating from him. You channeled all the energy you could into a peaceful, soothing presence that you directed toward him, feeling his breathing slow just a little bit. It wasn’t much, but it was all you could do.

You saw Clone Medic Kix running from body to body, working at the speed of light. You marveled at his nimble fingers and singular focus, triaging the injured clones, treating some on the spot, and organizing the transports back to a medical bay. You heard Captain Rex giving orders for the squad to reorganize and report to the staging area, and you gingerly lifted the injured trooper to your shoulder, draping his arm across to support his one-legged hobble back toward safety.

You’d been with the 501st for a number of months; shifting needs of the war had stolen you from your previous post. But you’d been grateful for the camaraderie and truly unique brotherhood that existed within the boys in blue. You’d grown incredibly fond of them, feeling each one’s unique presence in the Force and enjoying the way they all meshed together while being so incredibly different individually. One in particular was nestled close to your heart…

Lowering the injured trooper onto a gurney, you met Kix’s eyes as he arrived to scan the clone, making notes on his datapad and instructing the transport.

“Thanks for your help,” he said, too focused to smile but emanating gratitude and affection nonetheless. You could feel his spirit -- kind and fearless, determined and intentional -- and your heart fluttered, sending some alarm bells ringing through your head.

“No problem,” you answered, jerking your eyes away at the sensations that his soulful gaze was causing within you. You gave him a formal nod, then left to attend to your own matters.

“Come on,” Jesse poked, both literally and figuratively as he jabbed his elbow into your side. “We hardly ever get to come to Alderaan’s surface. It’s not only fun, but easy on the eyes too, and you’re way too uptight.”

“I appreciate the beauty, but the Quint sector isn’t really my scene, Jesse,” you deflected, feeling Kix’s eyes on you from across the transport, along with a prickling sense of anticipation from him. You were all strapped in, shooting toward the planet’s surface as you watched the star cruiser fade into the distance behind you. There had been a special exception made (most likely due to the Organas' extreme kindness and generosity) for the clone squads to enjoy a couple days of rest and relaxation while their cruiser picked up some supplies and waited for the next destination. The gently curving buildings flying past the window were clean and light, sparkling in the sun, and it felt as though the war didn’t even exist here.

“Have you ever been?” Jesse prodded, leaning forward with a knowingly arched eyebrow. You knew he had you there, and pressed your lips together firmly, sending him a look. “Ha! I knew it. Well, it’s just irresponsible to not explore a new place. Maybe it’s extra strong in the Force or something. It’ll make your magic even more powerful. Or supercharge your lightsaber…”

A wave of mirth rippled throughout the troopers in their seats, and you grinned, unable to be mad at Jesse’s indomitable spirit. You were warmed to the core at the energy among the 501st -- they had accepted you easily upon your arrival, they trusted you fully, and they had warmly welcomed you into not only their battles but their free time. You’d learned some details about heavy artillery from Hardcase, enjoyed a lecture about the discrepancies between certain manuals from Echo, and had even been taught by Fives how to never leave the bar alone at night. Not that you’d asked for any of these, but you couldn’t resist the earnest delight of each clone as they shared their various interests and insights.

You’d worked alongside Kix only briefly, feeling deeply unsettled by the inexplicably different vibe you got from being in the same room as him. He’d started off with a few cheesy pick-up lines, which immediately fell flat, and then stuck to strictly business. There was something about his soul that called out to you, though, and you tried to walk the thin line between enjoying his company, working shoulder to shoulder, and keeping things professional. You were grateful he wasn’t Force-sensitive, able to pick up on your feelings and thoughts, and were constantly torn between removing yourself from his presence altogether or refusing to miss out on an opportunity for connection.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present, where the clones had moved on to other topics of conversation. Apparently, it was decided that you’d be joining them to the Quint district on Alderaan, which was nothing like 79s but was as close as you could get in this sector.

Hours later, after some time to clean up, you met the clones at the address they’d sent you, surprised to see them in their civvies. You couldn’t help but rake your eyes over Kix, who was engrossed in conversation with Echo and looked more diminutive without his armor, more inviting somehow. You pushed the thought from your mind, waving to the group and taking a seat next to Dogma, who sat silently at the end of a large table.

“Ha! I knew the Jedi would come!” Jesse announced triumphantly, smacking Fives on the chest. “You owe me!”

“Well you basically bullied your way into that one,” Fives grumbled, elbowing Jesse right back. “You clean up nice,” he commented, giving you his infamous eyebrow waggle, which broke a bit of the tension you were feeling at not knowing quite what to do with yourself. You grinned, giving a playful shrug, and allowed yourself to soak up a bit of the joviality of the room. It was so different from 79s, even though the general purpose was the same, but it was absolutely beautiful. All of the furniture and walls were gently curved and boasted cool, tranquil colors of white, gray, blue, and green. The volume wasn’t too loud, but the place was filled with comfortable tables and chairs at different levels, each organized into little conversation areas that were cozy and welcoming.

“I’m going to grab a snack. Anyone want anything?” you offered, met with a cacophony of eager responses. You made your way to the counter to place an order, barely opening the menu before feeling a warmth beside you.

“Figured you’d need a hand carrying it all back,” Kix explained, a small smile curving his sharp features. You felt a rush in your chest, smiling and nodding in return. The feelings were growing, and you’d managed to keep them strictly under wraps, but every interaction with him was fanning the flame. It felt precarious… and enticing. You made a mental note to spend more time in meditation, to release any attachments and stay true to your singular commitment to the Jedi code.

Once the order was placed, there was nothing to do but wait, and you found yourself lost in conversation with Kix within minutes. You had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and he was more than happy to share some of the most baffling, unique, and tragically disgusting cases he’d come across in his medical career so far. You laughed and questioned, fascinated by his adventures so far, and found yourself thoroughly elated as he finished a story that you were fairly certain was heavily embellished.

The discussion took a turn after a little while, moving to more serious and heavy things. How he managed to keep cynicism and disillusionment at bay, you didn’t know, as he recounted brother after brother who had been lost in the war efforts. Your heart ached for him, feeling the complex emotions washing over him in wave after wave. He fell silent for a moment, running a hand over his intricately shaved and tattooed head, and you found yourself wanting to do the same. Tenderly, intimately…

A sharp inhale brought you back to your senses, and you turned promptly to return to the table, “Just come get me when the food is ready?” you called over your shoulder, desperately needing to flee his presence. You plopped into your seat next to Dogma, who cast an inquisitive glance your way.

“Empty-handed?” he asked, expression softening the intimidatingly sharp tattoo across his face.

“Kix is waiting for the food,” you explained dismissively. “So… I have yet to hear your tattoo story…” Anything to take your mind off of the slightly confused medic, still standing by the counter, watching you with a furrowed brow.

This battle was not going well. Plasma cannons echoed all around as blast after blast rained down where you and the 501st were hunkered in some of the flimsiest cover you’d ever seen. Rex and Jesse were quickly discussing an alternate plan, as shot after shot whistled through the trees around you. You made a few suggestions, revised the final strategy, then Rex announced it to the squad. On his signal, you charged in two groups, left and right, sprinting for the identified landmarks that might allow you to curb the frontal assault that was far more than intelligence had suggested it would be.

Suddenly, a huge cannon explosion landed nearby, causing one of the massive trees to crackle and waver. You looked up in horror as it teetered, roots ripping up from the earth, and began to crash through the forest canopy above as it fell… right toward a group of clones who were running toward their designated target. They were almost clear of its path… but one fell, shot in the stomach, and Kix was right beside him in an instant, scrambling to drag him clear. Horror clenched your chest, and without thinking, you ran toward them, using every tattered bit of energy you had to Force-throw them out of the way. As they landed on a nearby bush, the injured clone yelling in pain, you leapt over the tree as it smashed onto the ground where they had just been.

As you jumped down, focused entirely on the clones below, you missed the sizzling blaster bolt that was headed straight for you, tearing through your upper arm. A yelp escaped your lips as you landed, grimacing at both the searing pain and your own lack of awareness that could have prevented it.

The steady beeps of the equipment in the room were soothing as you dozed, comfortably bandaged and bacta-d up. You’d made it through the rest of the battle, reaching the drop zone and being lifted back to the ship with the squad. Fortunately, you’d been shot on an external limb, so the outlook wasn’t so dire as it would be from a direct torso hit. As you slowly woke up, feeling rummy and warm, you suddenly became aware of a presence beside you.

Kix was laying out a few items on a tray, not even looking at what he was doing in favor of watching you regain consciousness. His amber eyes were deep with concern and care, and you were flushed with sheepishness all of a sudden. Why did it have to be him…

“Sorry to wake you,” he said softly, his smooth voice a caress to your ears. “It’s time to change the bandage and place another injection before the last one wears off.” He was strictly business, but you could feel the internal conflict within him, realizing how much it matched your own. None of it was allowed. It couldn’t end well. There was no possibility…

“It’s ok,” you answered, trying to sit up as best you could with only one arm. He was beside you quickly, lifting you up, and the faint whiff of his unique scent reached your nose. Sterile, musky, clean, and… manly. You were quickly spiraling down a path that you knew was not a wise one. “I’m just going to… uh… meditate… while you do that…” you muttered, needing an escape from his intoxicating closeness. He smirked, nodding without a word, and slowly began to unwrap the gauze around your bicep. You closed your eyes, reaching for that place within, trying to sink deeply into it and release all the thoughts and feelings that were buzzing around your head. But you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, your senses were holding you firmly to the present. Kix’s gentle hands. The quiet sound of his breathing. The smell of him as he leaned over to unwrap the last bit.

You suddenly felt a weight on the side of the bed, next to your legs, and opened your eyes in surprise to see that he had taken a seat next to you. So incredibly close. And was leaning forward with a furrowed brow and intense squint as he examined the wound. Your heart flipped in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It all felt so intimate, even without any overt affection…

“I’d warn you that this will hurt, but I know you’re a tough one,” he said playfully as he readied the bacta injection to ensure there was no long-term bone, muscle, or ligament damage. You flinched as he placed it, but he was right -- you’d been through much worse. And the internal torment was completely distracting. As he moved to apply a light layer of gel across the stitched-up shot, he leaned closer and spoke quietly, feather-light fingers tracing over the gnarled flesh. “Tough… and kind… and brave… and intriguing… and beautiful…” he murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on your arm as though he’d explode if he looked anywhere else.

“Kix,” you breathed, studying his intensely focused face, “What are you doing?” His words reverberated within your very soul, shocking you with their unveiled honesty and affection. He fell silent for a moment, placing a patch over the wound and smoothing the adhesive around its edges, then finally lifted his eyes to yours. It sent a jolt of electricity through your body that continued to be amplified as he scooted slightly closer, picking up your hand in both of his.

“I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he said, voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth fell open slightly, completely stunned. You’d thought you’d kept it under wraps, keeping everything on a formal, friendly, professional level, and had also assumed that you were the only one privy to the thoughts and feelings of others. Clearly you hadn’t been as subtle as you thought. You searched for words but had none, eyes darting back and forth between his, tingles radiating up the arm from the hand he was gently holding.

“I can’t… I don’t…” you began, and he smiled faintly, looking down at your hand, nodding silently to himself.

“I know,” he whispered, taking a deep inhale before lifting his head to yours again. “But…” his voice grew stronger as his eyes took on a roguish gleam, “We may all be dead tomorrow, so…”

His sudden levity burst through the tension, and you surrendered to the ecstatic flurry within as he leaned in, careful to avoid your injured arm, reaching one hand up to gently cup the side of your face. He drew closer, confident yet unsure, eyes intently searching yours for a response. He leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, and your ragged breathing seemed disproportionately loud. You could feel yourself opening up to him in a way, releasing the strict control of mind over body, leaning into the warmth and connection that was radiating between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting slightly, and you tipped your chin upward to bring your lips together.

A sharp inhale through his nose signaled his surprise, but within a split second, he was melting into your kiss, hand roving down your neck to cup the back of your head. Your good hand pressed into his back, tilting your head to bury yourself as deeply in his face as you could. He pulled away, keeping his eyes closed for an extra second, smiling serenely, before meeting your gaze again. You lifted your good hand to his face, brushing the backs of your fingers along his pronounced cheekbone before tracing careful fingers along the side of his head. He basked in your touch, eyebrows arching up in the center, simultaneously blissful and pained at the reality of the situation, but that could be dealt with later.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” you whispered, gently raking your fingernails down the back of his neck, earning a shudder from him that made your heart sing.

“I know,” he answered, with a smug grin in your direction. “You don’t need the Force when you’re that obvious.”

“I thought I was being subtle,” you laughed, drowning in bliss as he leaned in again.

“You thought wrong,” he murmured against your lips, and you lost yourselves in each other once again.

#kix #clone wars kix #clone medic kix #clone trooper kix #tcw kix #kix x reader #kix x you #clone wars one shots #clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fluff #kix fluff

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makima4ever · 8 months

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Dissonance

((IM SORRY THE PICTURE IS KINDA FAT ILL MAKE IT SMALLER NEXT TIME)) Ghost x M!Reader Part 1, 2, 2.5, 3 warning!! may contain military inaccuracies, not proof-read! 2ND POV: .. When you were still in your old squadron, it was.. surreal. To say the least. They seemed to connect so easily, like puzzle pieces that fit together smoothly as it went. You, on the other hand, weren't one of them. You.. didn't know why you couldn't be like them, being able to get along just like in a quick- SNAP! You were awoken from your dream! Eyes shooting wide open from the thunderous crackle of a noise you had just heard- torso moving up as your head and eyes immediately shifted to scan around the area in a whiplash which definitely you would feel later. You, however, couldn't find the source of the sound. '. . Where even were you?' Your eyes darted around the white walled room, as you eyed the wall trim that was hugging the wall so close, it might've been air tight. The smell of alcohol and medication hit your nose immediately as you had awoken from your dazed slumber which was so rudely interrupted. Recoiling from the familiar but.. yet distant smell that caused your nose and eyes to scrunch in irritation. 'Okay, now where the fuck am I?' You pondered, watching the polished concrete flooring you always knew it to be.. yet, it seemed so.. different. Not sure why, but it was. Continuing to survey the area was fruitless, not much of anything besides empty medical beds and cabinets. The sound of the buzzing lights and ventilation was loud, unpleasant for your hearing which was more sensitive due to your abrupt awakening. 'Med-bay, great.. but where the hell..?' As you moved your legs to get off the bed, your eyes slowly moved to something that tugged on your arm clearly being held down by a small wrap. You winced while processing what it was as a clear tube full of something was being dripped into your arm through IV bag. Okay, maybe this was a sign you weren't being tortured or held hostage. Not that you'd like it anyhow. - You lightly tugged on it, testing its overall resistance to the tug.. It popped right off you in a satisfying 'pop' noise. Whoever did this did a horrible job? Or you were strong.. both are likely, honestly. You noticed that you had on your ripped clothing.. missing your gear as medical bandages wrapped around your torso snuggly. There was this sigh of content as you snuggled a little further into the bandages- 'No! Stop getting distracted, me! Now to find out where I am exactly.' Deciding to get up and not be dawdling, you shuffled in the hallways of the building you were in. It definitely seemed like you'd work in back at your base, but this was totally different. It had shiny concrete flooring with plain yellow dingy walls.. There were shiny wooden doors everywhere, as you continued the way down to what appeared to be a common room... Your hand slowly made it's way to the doorknob as you could feel this.. unnerving feeling? It was foreboding as you gripped it lightly, trying not to make a rattle. You were not at ease as you blankly looked at it, the door and.. whatever may be past it. The sense of dread, no, it was something else that you couldn't place a finger on. Regardless of what your body was telling you, to stop and just go back to your room, hell, you didn't even know where THAT was. Curse confusing layouts, really! With a slow sigh, mustering up the courage as you slowly built it like a tower, opening the door as it creaked loudly upon being opened slowly.

TBC! tumblr cannot accept my writing and forced me to cut half of it....

#ghost x male reader #cod x male reader #mw2 x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x gn reader #simon riley x gn reader

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levans44 · 8 months

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Apartment #3 - Chapter 2

pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader

warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff

summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.

excerpt:

Jessica Grace Parker December 4th, 1989 569 Leaman Place Apt. #3, Brooklyn, NY 11201 Registered Nurse NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital

It’s the undercover alias she’s been assigned as a member of SHIELD’s Special Operations unit. The mission objective was rather simple—monitor the target and report updates as necessary.

She’s gone undercover more than a dozen times, so it’s not the details of the assignment or the temporary relocation she’s concerned about.

It’s just that her target was well… more unusual than most.

author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.

masterlist

“That the last of everything?”

“Yup.” She grunts, unloading the last box of her belongings off the back of Thomas's truck and onto the sidewalk. She dusts off her hands, stepping back as her coworker closes the trunk and locks the vehicle.

“Should you even be here right now?” She murmurs, glancing around nervously, though there are no pedestrians around. This mission was, funnily enough, one of SHIELD’s most coveted. Very few people knew about its existence—aside for Nick Fury, only Thomas and a few other couple agents in special ops were in the loop.

“Eh, what Fury doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Thomas dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, sliding the shades off his face as he surveys the neighborhood. She follows suit, getting a good first look at her new home.

569 Leaman Place was located at a charming little street in Brooklyn Heights—idyllic brownstone row houses with red mahogany doors, bay windows, and black awnings. The entire area seemed like a welcome departure from her old neighborhood in Manhattan—low-rise architecture and narrower streets, lots of warm sun with lush greenery shielding the sidewalks. She could already envision herself sitting outside at one of the cute cafes around the block, sipping on an oat milk latte and spending a leisurely afternoon people-watching.

Yup, she wouldn’t mind living here for a while.

“How are you feeling about the assignment?”

Thomas’s question catches her off guard, breaking her out of her daydream as she glances up, squinting under the bright sunlight.

“What, you mean spying on a national hero? Not too psyched, to be honest.”

“Don’t forget he’s also technically your superior advisor.” He eyes her amusedly, helping her pick up the boxes off the sidewalk and up the stairs of the row house.

“Right.” She mutters, groaning a little at the reminder.

As soon as they drop off the last of the boxes at the entrance, Thomas's phone buzzes with a notification.

“I should be heading back. You want me to call someone to help with this?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Go take care of… whatever that is.”

Cut to half an hour later, when she’s panting and slugging up the stairs of her new apartment, lower back aching from the crushing weight of the box in her arms.

Good lord, maybe she should have thought twice about refusing help—with no elevator or AC, the four flights of stairs between the lobby and her unit seemed longer than a hike up Kilimanjaro.

She grunts, slamming the box down as soon as she reaches the fourth floor. The wooden floor creaks dangerously beneath her, and the sound of the ceiling fan in the hallway is almost deafeningly loud once she takes a second to catch her breath.

Guess some things are better from the outside.

She takes a proper look around the inside of the building—from the faded hardwood to the old carpeting, she’d guess that it was at least a century old.

Out of all the places to live in the city, Captain America chose this place?

She pushes the box away from the stairwell, dragging it across the straggly carpet into a corner. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she stands up, giving her back a much-needed stretch. Then, with a loud sigh, she begins turning around sluggishly, dreading the trip to retrieve the rest of her stuff downstairs, when a voice sounds from the top of the staircase.

“You alright?”

She swivels around, coming face to face with her mission target.

Her eyes flit over his tight compression shirt and a pair of grey sweats, a light sheen of sweat on his neck catching the dull lighting of the hallway as he tilts his head back for a sip of water.

“Hey.” A flash of blue as his eyes meet hers, giving her a nod and a smile. Polite, and a little stiff. Valid, given she was a stranger.

She blinks, reciprocating his greeting with a jaw that feels a little loose at the hinges. He takes another moment to survey her closely before his eyes suddenly grow, brows raising in what she can’t tell is realization or surprise. Her stomach tightens, panic seizing in her throat.

“Oh! Are you…”

The flight or fight instinct inside her flares up—could he really be recognizing her? Perhaps from a millisecond interaction at SHIELD headquarters? Maybe they had attended the same meeting? Passed each other in the lobby? Sat in close proximity during a press conference?

Shit, an hour into the mission? This must be some sort of record.

“…are you moving into that unit?” He sticks his head down the hall, gesturing to the second door on the right—the only one without a welcome mat out in front.

Faded, dark mahogany with the number 3 plated in dull gold.

Thank god.

“Yeah, yes, I am.” She nods, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, though he doesn’t seem to notice.

She notices the friendly smile that starts to bloom on his face, wide and warm, small lines crinkling the corners of cool blue eyes.

“Oh, that’s great, are you new to the neighborhood?”

“Yeah, I just moved from Midtown.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, considering how she did use to live in a SHIELD-commissioned studio apartment in Manhattan. God, she was dearly gonna miss that under-5-minute commute to work. Now she’d have to suffer through a 40 minute train ride every morning, wearing hospital scrubs she would have to change out of as soon as she got to her desk job at SHIELD.

He gives her another nod, holding eye contact for a curiously long time. Her eyes start to falter during the brief moment of silence when his brows raise in realization. He shifts his weight to his right foot, stepping forward, and flashes an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I’m Steve. I live just down the hall.” He gestures to the door across from hers, wiping his hand on the bottom of his shorts before extending it in greeting.

She glances down at his hand, blinking.

Out of all the details during this first encounter, she’s most surprised by the way he introduces himself—just Steve, an ordinary 30-something-year-old returning home after a run.

It strikes her, then, like whiplash.

To her, Steve was Captain America, someone she’s spent the last few days reading about tirelessly, nailing down every detail.

To Steve, she was just… a neighbor. Someone new to the neighborhood, moving in down the hall.

And with that reality finally sinking in, she accepts Steve’s hand, tentatively slipping her fingers into his palm.

Ah, the famous Captain America handshake.

It’s firm, warm, resolute—nothing short of what you’d expect from America’s hero. She thinks briefly of her friend from work, Thomas, who refused to wash his hands for two whole days after getting a handshake from the man standing in front of her.

Up until this point, Captain Amercia had been little more than a public figure for SHIELD—a glorified symbol of all the values her company supposedly stands behind.

Now, meeting Steve Rogers in the flesh, as he towers over her with his 6-foot-something frame, she starts to understand just why this man had been revered among family, friends, and coworkers alike.

(“He was more godly than, like, Thor, I swear.” Thomas had raved.)

“Jess.” She offers quietly, retracting her hand.

Ugh. Jess. Something about her new identity didn’t sound right. A little too doe-eyed, Zooey-Deschanel-esque for her liking, but perhaps even that had been an intentional move on Fury’s part.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jess.” Her fake name rolls off of Steve’s tongue so smoothly, slow and sweet, and she has to swallow down a sudden wave of nausea that hits the back of her throat.

Steve lingers, gaze flitting over to the messy array of boxes shoved into the corner behind her.

“Do you need help with your boxes? I noticed a few of ‘em were still downstairs.”

“Oh, I…” On one hand, she’s not sure if this would violate the whole ‘minimal contact’ clause of her mission assignment. But then again, her back feels like it’s seconds away from splitting in half, and how could she begin the mission if she can’t even move into her new place?

“It’s really no trouble, I promise.” Steve smiles reassuringly, as if sensing the conflict on her face. Misjudges her pause for polite hesitation.

“… thank you.” She manages to breathes out.

Steve nods, jogging down to the first floor and re-appearing up the stairs in a flash, carrying all of her remaining boxes up in one trip.

Jesus.

“Thank you for this, really.” She murmurs, shuffling down the hall to her door. She spares a quick sideways glance at Steve, who’s carrying four boxes at a time without so much as breaking a sweat. She’s barely keeping up with the smaller one in her arms, her bag hanging from her arm and her keys balanced precariously on top of the box.

When they reach apartment #3, she leans forward to set her things down, the keys slipping to the floor in the process.

“Shoot.” She mutters, face burning with embarrassment as she quickly bends down, but he’s quicker.

“I got it.”

And apparently superhuman power also mean superhuman reflexes, because he’s down at the floor picking up her keychain before she even has the chance to blink.

“… here.”

There’s a slight pause in his movements when he hands her back her keys, and when her eyes trail down to what’s in his hand, she immediately understands why.

A shiny Captain America shield keychain sticks out from the rest of the dull array of metal—the red, white, and blue plastic of honor hanging proudly from his fingertips.

It was a sick little joke played by the tiny group of people in her department that knew about her new gig—‘a good luck charm!’ Thomas had taunted. She had rolled her eyes, adding it to her keychain jokingly, and meant to take it off long before she was set to relocate to Brooklyn.

She feels her entire face burn a deep crimson as she tries to remain poker-faced, clearing her throat as she takes the keys from his hand and hastily shoves it through the door.

“Just… y-you can just set those down anywhere, thanks.”

She steps aside for Steve to walk in, gripping at the doorframe as she makes a mental note burn the keychain into next week, alongside Thomas and the rest of her coworkers.

By the time Steve sets down the last of her belongings in the middle of her empty living room, her cheeks are still flushed ripe with embarrassment.

“Thank you for your help, really.” She gives him a polite smile at the door, unable to make full eye contact.

“No worries, let me know if you need anything else.” He smiles, and she finds the tiniest piece of respite in noticing that if he had seen what was on her keychain (which was virtually inevitable given the circumstances), he didn’t seem at all bothered.

“… well, I’ll see you around Jess.” He smiles, giving her a small wave.

“Yeah, you too.” She nods, trying to conceal the tight lines around her lips. Steve steps back in the direction of his apartment, fishing out his keys from his pocket. She starts to turn around, fingers trembling with the details of her first encounter with Captain America, when she hears his voice calls out again from across the hall.

“Oh, I almost forgot…”

Shit, what?

When she turns back around, he’s leaned against the faded doorway of apartment #4, flashing her a charming smile—classic all-American, pearly-whites and all.

“…welcome to the building.”

Apartment #3 Masterlist

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eunseoksimp · 4 days

Text

Narcissist ; Huang Renjun

Pairings: Fuckboy!Renjun x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: swearing

Description: the euphoria you feel under the influence, not off of any substances but of the attraction and desire for huang renjun.

a/n: low-key intended to mainly be a riize blog but nct dream have taken over my life recently. huang renjun is so fine, he’s been driving me crazy.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

it was hard to explain the way huang renjun made you feel.

he was arrogant, egotistical and had the nastiest attitude you had ever come across. yet that didn’t stop your body from craving his touch.

it didn’t peel your eyes away from his figure as he nonchalantly entered a room you were also in, hands in his pocket, tongue swiping over the cool metal on his lip.

it was obvious that you were no longer listening to chaewon as she ranted about her new literature professor giving her more work than was necessary.

huang renjun. your mind was plagued with thoughts of him, skin flushing as you watched the way he sat back on the chair that mark had pulled out for him, slightly slumped as he threw his head back.

his adams apple was protruding, wickedly inviting you to get a closer look, your bottom lip finds refuge in between your teeth as you fight to keep the filthy thoughts at bay.

effortlessly, he lifts his head back up, his hair gracefully falling over his eyes, lifting his hips slightly so he can spread his legs a little wider. then his eyes meet yours.

panic is evident on your features, and you struggle to look away, but his lips curve upwards into a smirk, his head cocking to the side, hands folded behind his head.

it was like you were in a trance, hypnotised by the boy sitting just a few feet away from you.

his eyes rake over your body, meticulously drinking in every part of you and you shiver at the intensity of his gaze.

he had you right where he wanted you.

gesturing you over with just a slight move of his head, it’s hard to ignore the buzz he gets as he looks at you stumbling to your feet, muttering what he assumes would be a pretty lame excuse to your friends as you scramble over to where he is.

your cheeks and nose are dusted a light pink alike, and he can tell by the way you keep swiveling the ring on your index finger that you’re anxious.

when you come to a stop in front of him, burying your head in shame as you stare at the patterns on the carpet beneath your feet, he lets out an airy chuckle.

‘i’ll be back,’ he informs the rest of his friends, tugging you closer to him, daring you to look at him.

‘i’ve got some things to sort out.’

his friends whistled and hooted, but he just rolled his eyes, taking your hand in his as he led you out of the room, away from curious eyes and pulling you into an empty classroom.

the lights are switched off, the monitor blank and whiteboard scrubbed clean. not even twenty minutes ago this room would have been full, students scattered all around the area you’re currently standing.

yet now you’re all alone, with huang renjun and your tainted mind, riddled with all the things you could do without anyone watching.

he doesn’t say anything, eyebrow raised, playing with his lip piercing as his eyes bore into you.

‘you didn’t answer my text yesterday,’ you speak up first, softly, as you pick at the dead skin by the side of your nails, not daring to glance at him.

‘hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to not look people in the eye when you’re talking to them? hmm angel,’ he’s not answering your question, but goosebumps line your skin and you fight back a shudder, not wanting to seem any more pathetic than you already felt.

‘you know i don’t like repeating myself,’ despite how gentle his voice was, his tone commandeered some type of obedience, and you gulped as you raised your head.

‘good girl.’

it was silent again, the sound of the clock on the wall above the door being the only thing making noise. renjun looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees want to buckle as you slide to the floor, such confidence and zeal accompanying his already devastatingly good looks.

and worst of all, he knew it. he knew the effect he had on other girls, the ability to render many speechless, the smartest girls becoming thoughtless as they gaped at him. just like you were right now.

‘i’m starting to question your model student status. you’re supposed to be intelligent but you can barely form a sentence right now.’

you feel yourself breaking into a sweat as he draws closer to you, heart pounding as he practically glides over to where you are, not breaking eye contact.

‘i-‘

‘i-you-um. use your words love, and stop speaking to me like you’re a toddler,’ his presence is imminent, hand darting out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, skin burning under his touch, his smile smug as he grabs a fistful of it and tugs it gently, till your chin makes contact with his shoulder.

your breath hitches and you close your eyes, swallowing as the air becomes thick with tension and your thighs involuntarily squeeze shut.

‘what were you saying earlier?’ his voice is low, and it’s somehow easy to tell that he’s enjoying making you squirm. like he always did.

‘i just- i- i wish you would reply to my messages,’ it took a lot out of you to even get the words out, stuttering as you hold back a whimper.

‘and what would i do that for?’

‘i hate the way it makes me feel. like you can’t even be bothered to speak to me you know?’

he pulls back, eyebrows furrowed, but his demeanor doesn’t falter at the way you trail off at the end of your sentence, like you were forcing yourself not to be too emotional. if anything he just seemed bored, his expression blank as he clicked his tongue.

‘nobody asked you to catch feelings for me. i can’t help that you’re so obsessed.’

your eyes grow glassy, and then brim with tears as you harshly swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. it frustrated you, because a small part of you knew he was right.

it wasn’t his fault that you were consumed by thoughts of him, that every waking moment had you desiring to be in his presence, just to be able to gaze at him for as long as you could.

you yearned for huang renjun, heart physically aching every time he was so much as mentioned in a conversation, the strings of your hearts being tugged at by none other than the boy who was in front of you.

calling it an obsession would be putting it lightly, knowing that it was no longer a feeling you could separate yourself from. you loved every single piece of him, the overwhelming bad and the faint good, both making an intricate alchemy of the person your entire being belonged to.

you had never felt this way about anyone before, dreaming only of him, imagining only him when you felt lonely. you didn’t want anyone else around besides him, didn’t want anyone else touching you if it wasn’t him.

‘you’ve gone non-verbal on me again. sure you’re not sucking off a teacher for those good grades you’re getting?’ his crude language gracefully grounded you back to reality, scrunching your nose as you shook your head furiously.

‘of course you’re not, wouldn’t even touch another guy if it wasn't me, would you?’

you shake your head for a second time, like a fool without any sort of intellect, dumbly giving him any sort of reaction he wanted, devoid of any sort of independence.

you hear his phone ding, once and then twice, and he takes his hand away from where they were previously cupping your chin to fish them out of the pockets of his trousers, leisurely reading over the texts he received, no emotion on his face.

after a quick pause he types with one hand and curiosity gets the best of you as you lean forward, trying to catch the persons name.

ning ning. of course it was her.

a bitter feeling bubbles in your stomach, nails digging into your palms as you fight back any snarky comments. renjun hated when you acted jealous.

so even though you so desperately wanted to beg him not to go and meet her, or even ask him why her name had a heart next to hers and yours didn’t, you bit your tongue and waited for his next move.

‘duty calls, seems like you’re not the only one who wants me all to themselves,’ he doesn’t even bother to hide the fact that he’s going to see another girl, sending one final message before closing out of the chat. your lips form into a pout before you even know it, disappointment radiating from your figure.

‘stop looking at me like i’m the bad guy. you knew what you were getting yourself into.’

‘and try not to miss me too much hmmm,’ he taps your cheek, gliding his tongue over his piercing again with a wicked glint in his eyes.

‘next time, we’ll do whatever nasty thing has been floating around in that pretty little head of yours,’ renjun winks, his lips briefly coming in contact with yours, teasing you before pulling away and sauntering away, leaving you trembling.

and even more sexually frustrated than you were when you first lay eyes on him.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

literally wrote this in under an hour, renjun from istj era you will always be famous.

also low-key trying to get my motivation back for writing so this is quite short.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #huang renjun #huang renjun smut #renjun #renjun imagines #nct renjun #nct scenarios #renjun x reader #nct dream imagines #renjun nct

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luckycharms1701 · 5 months

Text

I fan myself in this most languid heat, The forest invites one to lay all bare. I hang my hood upon a rocky crag, My head exposed I bathe in fragrant air.

-Li Bai, In the Mountains on a Summer Day

~~~

"Why is it so hot?" You grit your teeth as Mikey asks the question for what feels like the tenth time.

"Perhaps because it is the middle of summer," you reply, trying your best to keep irritation out of your voice. He has no internal temperature regulation, you remind yourself. It's only mostly his fault that you're here.

"But we're in the mountains, it's supposed to be cool!"

"Not in the middle of summer."

Mikey just moans piteously, pulling his hat off his head to fan himself with it. You wipe the sweat off your brow and then pull the sunscreen out of the side pocket of your backpack.

"Here, you're gonna get sunburned. Let me." You pour some of the sunscreen in your palm and smooth it over his head. He lets out a happy chirp at the sensation and leans into your touch.

You smile at him. Perhaps suggesting a hiking date in the middle of summer and then doubling down when you warned him against it wasn't his brightest moment. But you did agree to it. Eventually. And despite the buzzing heat and Mikey's complaints, you are enjoying yourself.

It is a beautiful day. Due to the heat you've only seen a couple of other people crazy enough to be out here, so you have the area to yourself. The flowers are abundant and beautiful, as Mikey promised. And he takes your hand with a bright grin of his own as you continue towards the nearby treeline. What more could you want?

You both breathe a sigh of relief as the trail takes you into the shade of the trees. It's still hot, but definitely more manageable. You hum a little in happiness as you look around at the gorgeous scenery.

Suddenly Mikey perks up. "Do you hear that?" He hustles off, pulling you along heedless of your protests. However, as you get closer to the source of the noise, you start hustling with him. It sounds like...

"A waterfall!" Mikey crows in delight. It's a small one, tumbling over a short cliff into a round pond before heading downhill in a stream. But that doesn't detract from the beauty.

Mikey spends ten minutes taking various aesthetic pictures for his So-Shell account while you sit on a rock and watch him, grateful for the rest. Perhaps you and Mikey should go hiking more often, you are clearly out of shape.

You take off your own hat and lean back, closing your eyes as a slight breeze ruffles the trees around you. It's cooler near the water, and you can smell the earthy loam of the pond bank. The sound of Mikey's camera mixes with the insects and bird calls in a surprisingly pleasant melody.

A rustling sound that definitely isn't the trees interrupts your quiet contemplation, and you look up to find Mikey sliding his shorts off his legs.

"What are you doing??" You hiss at him while looking around frantically. The trail is within sight, someone could come by at any time!

He stares at you deadpan while he straightens up. There is nothing on display, because he is a turtle. You, ah, forgot that. You bury your face in your hands while he starts to laugh.

You hear his laughter approach, and then he starts to tug on your shirt. "Come on," he urges, "you should try it. The grass feels great!"

"Mikey! The trail is right there," you gesture towards it with one hand while the other tries to pull your shirt back down. "Someone could walk by!"

"I will hear them before they can see you. I'll give you plenty of warning, I promise!" Mikey gives you the same pout that broke your resolve and caused this date in the first place, and you groan internally. You can't resist that face and he knows it.

"You just want to see my chest," you grumble as you let go of your shirt and let him whip it off of you. Mikey grins and waggles his eyebrows as he tugs you up and towards the pond.

"Maybe. But also, the grass really does feel good." You lay down next to him at the edge of the pond. He stretches out with a happy chirp and tucks one hand under your neck.

The grass does feel good, cool but not wet. Even the blades tickling your sides feel nice, soft, rather than annoying. You watch the sun shine through the trees above you with half-lidded eyes.

You fall asleep as Mikey starts to churr.

#this is a little suggestive just fyi #there is nakedness but no touching or anything just teasing comments #writing tag #rise mikey x reader #tmnt #rise mikey #gender neutral reader #pretend they have good hearing because of the mutation okay. it was the ooze or something #call this me trying to get back into rise mikey mode and doing a small amount of scenery description practice #i WAS doing non-turtley shit for the first time in literal months #playing civilization #and that poem popped up in the game #this scene immediately sprang from my head fully formed #like athena out of zeus's head or aphrodite from the sea

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