#muddy event

[artbyblastweave]

I think a funny character for the parahumans universe would be a crackpot cape with the same kind of public profile as Glastig Uaine, except instead of ranting about powers, they come from a WLP/Literary analysis background, had the wherewithal to talk to more than six capes about the in-depth situations surrounding their trigger events, and then arrived at the (correct) conclusion that all powers are pat little metaphors for the trauma and life circumstances of their users. 

From here the cape infers (less correctly but not explicitly wrong yet!) the existence of an Author designing everyone’s powers, and possibly takes this a few steps further to arrive at the conclusion that the wormverse is either a Grant-Morrison-esque meta setting in which it’s possible to track the Author down and petition them, or a Pratchett-esque setting that’s bound by the laws of narrative causality. (And this is still the rightest wrong it’s possible to be on this issue tbh)

[cartoonrival]

society if i could remember things ive read

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

okay so like two things about this particular line.

one: i like the irony in claude telling someone to trust more.

two: HOWEVER, dimitri has literally absolutely no reason whatsoever in the name of yeehaw fuckity to not trust claude. i hate the way the game tries to absolutely force the things gw/sb claude does into ag when it doesn't even exist at all in ag. he never made a single hint of planning to just betray/harm the kingdom and this is literally at their first war meeting. not just that, but claude chose to go to faerghus himself and didn't ask them to go to leicester (which he specifically states being the one to choose to go to faerghus), so there wasn't anything indicating he might be up to something at all.

then we've got this stupid nugget:

each side lacks trust and is expecting foul play? the church expects foul play from the kingdom? from the alliance which has done nothing to them in this route, and that's bad enough... but the fucking kingdom too?

the kingdom and alliance watching for foul play even though they're allies and never had a history of being aggressive toward each other?

i know i've talked about it before but... i just hate how they tried to force this "claude is always scheming something terrible" plotline, even where it doesn't belong. then they also added in the dumb bit here about even the church not trusting the other armies, even though they've... literally been helping them, gratefully, this whole war. they also didn't have to fight but chose to out of gratitude for being sheltered.

suddenly after the timeskip they just... don't trust each other?

like i totally get just being in it to reclaim gm and go home and not really in it for someone else or anyone else, but the distrust is just an asspull to make the church seem BaD as usual.

claude just walked in and wasn't trusted. they also keep hammering it in right through the whole second half of the route with lots of kingdom allies (including playable ones) not trusting him. even if they relatively trust the alliance and the soldiers helping them that were integrated into their army, they specifically do not trust claude at all and are apprehensive about him.

dimitri agrees here if they can't be trusted, but he doesn't mention just personally distrusting them a whole lot. he agrees that they should be cautious if what the others say is true, but he also just shrugs it off as "they'll be enough to deal with the alliance if so". he seems unsure at first and kinda goes back and forth, but by the end he's the only character who faithfully believes that claude isn't just fucking around and leading them on (which literally, right to the very very very end, every single character except him is still very vocally doubting claude).

but like... why? there's... just... nothing to distrust him because of in this route. man literally exists and the game wants us to believe he's untrustworthy.

yeehaw wtf??? why would anything happen between the kingdom and alliance after the war? why would anything need to happen? even if you try to argue that claude is gonna try to uwu depose of the top church officials, if the church is watching the kingdom like hawks like dimitri is apparently aware of, why would the kingdom get involved? why would they care? clearly the church doesn't trust them all that much after all, or at least anymore since the timeskip for some unknown reason, and the kingdom has now, after this war, paid back any debt it owed the church.

so like, why would they suddenly rush to the church's aid and help them if the church doesn't trust them? if they were friendly/allied it would make sense if they still wanted to help, but if the church is expecting foul play from the kingdom, why would the kingdom even care what happens to the church? they could turn a blind eye and pretend they don't have the resources to aid them anymore and that their own territory is still busy recovering.

even if you argue what they discussed at the very beginning of the war, the church either A: didn't ask for aid in this second conflict, or B: even if they did, the above stands. i don't think there would be any riots or anything like that in those cases if the kingdom didn't help the church. it's one thing to help, but it's another to just fight at the back and call of another territory, which dimitri clearly expresses he won't do in gw because he puts the safety of his people first. no matter what his feelings are on the matter, he knows he's a king and that he has a responsibility to his people first and foremost, as would be expected of a king (to protect his own people first and foremost).

while i could see claude wanting to talk after the war and get things straight, and while i could see dimitri there as a mediator, there's just... literally no reason for bad blood after all this. even if they don't trust each other, there's just no reason - and that's aside from the fact that it's total bs that they all just don't trust each other.

lorenz just asks if shez has confidence in them. doesn't mention claude. shez though just... randomly is like oh yeah btw just not claude. totally unprompted.

lorenz distrusting claude has been part of his character since houses so his part of it is reasonable. normally i'd say it's really pushing things with claude not being trustworthy for someone to say they feel bad for shez/the kingdom army for the implication of having to deal with claude even as an ally, but the only reason i give this a pass is because it's an understandable and reasonable character who says it.

still though, it's like the game throws it in at every single possible opportunity for no reason at all. they don't give us any indication that claude is this big bad evil guy. he doesn't trust the church. like... that's it. he made that clear even in ag (even without the zaharas chapter), and that's just... it. the rest of this makes it seem like claude is going to just up and invade the kingdom after this war and try to unify fodlan (i.e. just go what edelgard's been doing this whole time).

it's just like... here, nobody trusts claude at all in this game just for simply existing. you don't even have to bring him up, because someone else will do it for you and shit talk him to remind you he's the biggest piece of shit the game can offer! meanwhile, we've got marianne who is concerned about edelgard (implication is her well being no less!) because the empire's army ain't doing so hot. poor indading aggressor! sure hope she's doing okay! fuck our leader though, he's the biggest steaming pile of bullshit garbage to ever exist (marianne didn't say that, but that's what the narrative is going for: poor edelgard, it's so sad that the invader is having it rough right now. anyway fuck claude he's literally as evil as tws).

i love ag but i'd say this is one of if not the worst hiccup in the writing. when it comes to faerghus itself and its characters, it's mostly fine and even great, but when it starts going into other territories/characters it ends up taking a nosedive in quality.

siiigh

[the-travelling-witch]

Holly what Fic/idea are u most excited to start working on :0

ooh that is a great question!! i get really bad motivation swings when it comes to writing, my brain basically latches onto whatever shiny new idea it can get its synapses on

i’m very excited for all the new fics i added i think. the barbarian bakugo one occupied a lot of my mind at one point, but rn i’m hyping myself up for the shouto event collab (but this could be completely different by the time i actually have time to work on any of this)

thematically and time-wise, my writing plan should be mermay au (which was originally a shouto idea but considering i’m writing for the event i might change it to an equally socially clueless guy from a different fandom… kageyama or xiao maybe), then the shouto collab and then we’ll see. but we all know how much i stick to writing plans (i don’t).

the twst pokemon au is also still on my mind, though its glow has dimmed a smidge after not working on it for a while. right after coming up with it though, i opened the doc every two seconds to add some new idea + my friends liked the sorta intro i wrote for it based on my current world building. i’m too hyped to share it i think (hopefully you guys will think it’s just as cool)

talking and thinking about all my ideas makes me want to write all of them, now ㅠㅠ

[blackholemojis]

for the disabled queer thing maybe something like

"make pride accessible"

Great idea! (also I just realized I said I’d post this tomorrow but I straight up forgot, whoops! I’ll do that for the rest of these)

[ID: the phrase “make pride accessible” written in purple bubble letters. /End ID]

[potatochip-oc-dump]

It's no fun being without a pair

[ilostyou]

🕯✨prayer circle for a good luke fit tonight 🕯✨

[sbnkalny]

My favorite way to eat white bread is this. 1, Toast it after spread honey on it. 2, Spread butter on the honey-toast. 3, Spread honey on the buttered honey-toast, again. 4, Toast it again. The final one should be a toast soaked in the honey you've spread on it first.

If it goes well, the toast will be soaked in honey & fluffy the upper inside, & crunchy on the bottom. Also you sprinkle little Chinese pepper/Sichuan pepper (not black pepper) on it, will make it really sweet & hot. This is fuck!

The amount of honey is less than you'd think. :]

Yeah, this is f( ´･ᴗ･)k

I love trains too! they've always been my #1 favorite way to travel. :) i loooooove hummus!. 1, 25, 24, 8, 20, 7. That’s right, we put peanut butter on the corn. Hello my Honey. On fallout 4, do I keep Dogmeat or do You mean seals and Sea lions when they want. It's your first.. Can I get a crunchy mixed meme on half?. I look at it is, friends! the ugly truth! we are the most shady, like the shadiest bot I had some really sweet asks a while back but I still have. Fits And spurts! demand spurts that fit! demand fits that spurt! fuck fuck fuck!. How to take bake an ask is less than half an Hour.. :]. Yeah, yeah..

[coffeebeanwriting]

Some Quick Character Tips

Here are a handful of quick tips to help you write believable characters! 

1. A character’s arc doesn’t need to grow linearly. Your protagonist doesn’t have to go from being weak to strong, shy to confident, or novice to professional in one straight line. It’s more realistic if they mess up their progress on the way and even decline a bit before reaching their goal.

2. Their past affects their present. Make their backstory matter by having their past events shape them into who they are. Growing up with strict parents might lead to a sneaky character, and a bad car accident might leave them fearful of driving.

3. Give reoccurring side characters something that makes them easily recognizable. This could be a scar, a unique hairstyle, an accent, or a location they’re always found at, etc.

4. Make sure their dialogue matches their personality. To make your characters more believable in conversation, give them speech patterns. Does the shy character mumble too low for anyone to ever hear, does the nervous one pace around and make everyone else on edge? 

5. Make your characters unpredictable. Real people do unexpected things all the time, and this can make life more exciting. The strict, straight-A student who decides to drink at a party. The pristine princess who likes to visit the muddy farm animals. When character’s decide to do things spontaneously or in the heat of the moment, it can create amazing twists and turns.

6. Give even your minor character's a motive. This isn’t to say that all your characters need deep, intricate motives. However, every character should need or want something, and their actions should reflect that. What’s the motive behind a side character who follows your protagonist on their adventure? Perhaps they’ve always had dreams of leaving their small village or they want to protect your protagonist because of secret feelings.

Instagram: coffeebeanwriting  

[probablyasocialecologist]

Journalists should remember that Israel's first response after they killed their colleague Shireen Abu-Akleh was to say Palestinians shot her. This is part of a consistent Israeli military information damage control strategy in response to such events.

Then, they attacked her funeral, live on camera in front of the whole world, and proceeded to blame Palestinians.

In 2021, after destroying a building in Gaza housing the AP and Aljazeera office, again on live TV they lied about it being a legitimate target.

In 2018 Israel snipers shot thousands of unarmed Palestinians in Gaza, many live on camera, then lied about them being armed.

In 2014 they killed the Baker boys while they were playing soccer on the beach, in front of the world's cameras, and then they lied about it.

The list goes on and on. It is part of a deliberate strategy to muddy waters & defuse international outrage over the most gruesome crimes so that they can have the maximum possible time to continue carrying them out. If you as a journalist are playing into this, you are complict.

Yousef Munayyer

[luveline]

I read the Derek and Spencer fainting bit and now I want to complete it with Hotch :)))

If that’s alright of course…

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Aaron knows you harbour more affection for him than anyone else on the team, which is a true compliment to him, as you adore Spencer. He can never tell if you're friendly or loving, if you want some or all or nothing, the line between you blurred. 

When Morgan and Garcia first began their flirtatious friendship, Aaron thought they were seeing each other on the sly for a whole fortnight. He's a profiler, but he doesn't know everything. 

He does, however, know that something is wrong with you today. Hand held up over your eyes, you squint out over the crime scene with a wrinkled nose. The lakeside smells as bad as it looks with gore blackening the surrounding grass. He's been telling you for months to get some shades. You've been ignoring his advice. 

Your disapproval of the smell is normal. Your unsure footing is not. You take his forearm when he offers it and step across the muddy bank to the body without audible complaint, though you give him a 'this fucking sucks' narrowing of the eyes when he gives you the time. 

"Agent Hotchner," a deputy greets, "Agent L/N. We found the second body here. Bystanders pulled the first out thinking she was still alive, but that was unfortunately not the case." 

You shift unprofessionally close to Aaron. He doesn't really care. The sheriff barely looks at you both, his attention on the corpse hidden between overgrown cattails. 

Aaron hates to admit that he gives you more of his attention than is helpful. You seem odd. Call it intuition, call it plain old profiling, Aaron reads the next minute of events in the smallest twitch of your finger.

You put your hand on his back and he doesn't think, he just grabs you. The sheriff deputy startles as you fold over Aaron's arm like a marionette with strings sliced, exhaling hard as your body does its best to hit the grass beneath your feet. 

"Agent L/N!" The deputy yelps. 

"I got her," Aaron says, easing you down to the ground. He keeps a hand behind your head to lay you down flat, the other quick to leap from your side to your cheek. You'll likely have bruises in the shape of his hands at your waist. "Y/N?" 

He rubs his thumb under your eye. Quick, he leans down with an ear to your lips and relaxes at the sound of your shallow breathing. He pulls away, resting a hand atop your chest. 

"Can you hear me?" he asks, conscious of and ignoring the copious pairs of eyes watching over you. 

You don't respond. Aaron goes into emergency mode, flagging down a cop who races for a paramedic, hands at your throat unbuttoning the first button on your blouse, the second in an overabundance of caution. 

"Y/N, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that?" His tone wavers somewhere between demanding and desperate. "Come on. Come on." 

Fainting is one thing. Fainting with no signs of dehydration and little sun exposure is another, especially considering you hadn't moved from one position to another. You've passed out with no obvious cause. Any number of things could be wrong. 

He doesn't slap you —it works in the movies and not often elsewhere. In fact, Aaron finds himself at the opposite end of the spectrum. Patient outwardly and insanely panicked on the inside, he holds your face in his hand and waits for someone to tell him you're alright. 

Your breath catches, your head lolling into his palm. He straightens it, weary of your airways. "Y/N? Tell me you can hear me." 

The whirlwind of your fall and the eternity of your recovery has him holding his breath. 

"I can hear you," you mumble, again attempting to turn your head. He lets you this time. He's so relieved, he'd let you do anything. 

He fights the urge to shout, Where's the medic? instead following your face, tilting his head to the side. "Open your eyes, honey," he murmurs, for your ears alone. 

Your lashes twitch against his pinky index finger. You frown as though you're in pain and finally rouse to attention. 

"What hurts?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"Nothing hurts…" Your frown worsens. "You look really unhappy." 

"I'm not ecstatic about this," he says. He gives in, shouting, "Where's the medic?"

"Oh, no, please," you say, trying to sit up, "that is so embarrassing."

Aaron pushes you flat to the grass beneath you. "Stop, you need to stay flat. You passed out. This is the solution–" He puts his hand flat over your chest as you put in some effort. "Hey, this is what you need to do. Listen to me, agent." 

"What happened to honey?" you ask quietly. 

"That's when you were doing what I wanted." 

You close your eyes in a faux strop. "I guess I'll have to do what you want more often, sir." 

"That's enough." He sounds fond. Why does he sound so fond? 

The deputy clears his throat. "Paramedics are here." 

You groan. Aaron hides a smile. Through everything, his hand has stayed on your cheek. He doesn't pull it away until he absolutely has to, and even then, he holds some part of you. Your elbow, your wrist. He has the sense to be sheepish about it when the paramedic ushers him back, but even then, he's thinking about when he'll get to touch you next; he needs the assurance that you're okay. 

He gets it a half hour later when you're sipping on a gatorade in the back of an SUV. 

"Do I still get paid for today?" you ask, smiling playfully. "Or is this a write off?" 

He wants to joke about it with you, but there's work to be done. He sends you back to the hotel with a frankly unprofessional hug and a demand to take it easy. He's sure you'll be back stepping on his heels by late afternoon. 

[catharsisfire]

caught in the spider’s web (m.) 18+

Simon “Ghost Riley x Reader

 “I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation. 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice.

 Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, inappropriate relations with your superior, orgasm denial, degradation, teasing/taunting, Ghost being kinda mean, also slight!Soap x Reader (just some flirting tho)

Word Count: 5004

A/N: i’m down absolutely bad for this man, so down bad i cant stand up, also thinking of making a pt. 2 and maybe a Soap version tbh so lemme know if you’re interested in that!

Inspo taken from this tiktok audio by dxcrxpit

Gif is not mine

She’s got to blame someone for this; Graves will take the fall for now, until she finds the Shadow that shot her in the thigh and she’ll personally take the fall for being stupid and diving off the road onto a muddy cliff, tumbling the entire way down. Ungracefully, one may add. It’s unfortunate, truly, the turn of events that have now left her alone and in the pouring rain, leaking blood onto the pavement, but life is nothing if not one shitty plot twist after another. 

The comms had been radio silent since she fell, with no one calling or checking in, no sign of Ghost or Soap anywhere, so she finds an empty alley, mind set on damage control. It’s nothing to reach behind her and grab the back of her balaclava and pull it over her head, but it’s the feeling of the wet fabric sliding and sticking to her face as she pulls it off that makes her grimace. “Gross,” she mutters lowly with her hands wrapped tightly around the fabric, wringing out her sweat and the rain. Her back braces on the stone wall behind her and she slides down slowly until she’s sitting on the cobblestone road. [Y/n] lets out a shaky exhale as she reaches her hands down and begins to undo her belt, sliding it off in a quick jerking motion and then proceeds to fold her balaclava into a makeshift bandage before laying it over the wound on the outside of her left thigh. The belt is then used to tighten the balaclava down, applying pressure to keep bleeding to a minimum while she finds her way out of this shit fest. It takes her a second of sitting and fidgeting with the tightness of the belt before she decides to slink her way back up the wall again to stand.

“Alright,” She breathes heavily, talking to no one but herself, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” She laughs lightly under her breath and her hand makes its way to where her sidearm had been just moments before her tumble, only to find it gone. “Fuck me,” she whines, head falling back onto the stone wall behind her dejectedly, “hard way it is then.”

[Y/n] makes quick work of pushing off the wall and beginning to limp slightly farther down the alleyway, clicking through the channels on her comms as she goes, until Ghost’s voice pierces through her ears causing her to stop.

“Soap- This is Ghost. How copy?” There’s a moment of silence that registers for a second too long and she feels her blood run cold when there’s no response. “Johnny…?” No response. “Johnny… How copy?”

“Solid.” Soap’s response comes quickly and she lets out a relieved exhale. [Y/n] is quick to glance around, trying to find the easiest way down and out and she thinks for a second too long before throwing caution to the wind and her legs move into a slight skip before picking up into a run into a shop across the road. 

“You injured?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Life or death. Keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.”

“Thanks for the tip.” 

“Spider. How copy?” She hears him, vividly so, but her mind is too sidetracked to reply. To focused on finding a way out whilst sneaking up to the Shadow in front of her. She quickly grabs onto the knife that's strapped and sheathed to her lower back and imbeds it into the juncture of the Shadow’s neck, twisting and pulling harshly to retrieve it from his skin as she moves to lay the body to the ground silently.

“Kid,” His voice more demanding now, “how copy?”

“Alive.” She pants evenly through the receiver.

“Thought we lost you there, kid.”

“Never. I’m gonna live forever L.T, remember?” She laughs breathily.

 Sometimes she catches Price staring at them with some far off solemn look in his eyes. A certain softness laced with ‘what if’ that you could only catch if you were genuinely looking for it and it startles her every time, making her feel a bit guilty that he cares so much for them. Guilty to know that if one of them died he’d be heartbroken.

“Stop staring at us like that.” She lowly speaks to him, her words taking on a teasing edge as she stares at the Captain.

“Like what?”

“Like we’re terminal cancer patients.”

“I do no-“

“I’m gonna live forever, Captain.” She interrupts so matter-of-factly before lifting her left hand and jamming her thumb in the direction of Ghost to her left, “And you can’t kill a Ghost.” Her thumb falls only for her index finger to point over at Soap who’s sitting on her right side, “And Soap,” she begins, “well Soap can’t die because we fuckin’ told him not to.”

“Copy that, Sergeant.” Price responds with a tilt at the edge of his mouth. Almost a smile, she notes.

Ghost peers down at her from where he’s seated next to her and she looks up at him with a smile present in her eyes and nods once in his direction in confirmation. Her black balaclava does nothing to hide her emotions, not when they’re always written right there in her eyes, and he vaguely wonders if she wears it because her face is more of an open book than her eyes appear to be. Yet it’s a thought he buries deep when she winks up at him, her eyes still dancing with humor and he’s turning away, not wanting to be drawn in by her gaze.

 “Where are you?”

“There's a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there.” Ghost declares. “You’ll need to improvise to survive.” 

“Oh, joy.” comes Spider’s quick retort. She makes hasty work of digging through the dead Shadow’s pockets, taking his knives and his gun before taking a quick once-over glance over him. An idea toys in her mind for a second and she reaches forwards, unclipping the helmet on his head equipped with night vision and immediately puts it on her own and clipping it down, adjusting the strap to fit. The rifle she picked up is then slung over her chest and it rests heavily on her back on top of her armor and she begins her journey away, crouching low and moving to the next building. 

“Welcome to guerilla warfare.”

Ghost and Soap continue talking, but [Y/n] had taken to tuning them out, too concentrated on taking down the Shadow’s in her path. One after another they each fell easily from the blades she kept stealing off of their associates corpses and her hands made quick work of ripping the ammo clips from their pockets and depositing them in her own on her vest. It was messy work and the realization that it was no longer sweat and rain wetting her face, but blood as well, did not go unnoticed by her. Her arm was quick to reach up every so often in an attempt to clear her face but it felt only as if it just smeared everything on her face, making a bigger mess.

“Gimme a sit-rep.” Ghost’s request digs her from her concentration, her decision making stopping momentarily and she goes to reply first but Soap beats her to it.

“Outside… Gated alley.”

“Kid, sit-rep?”

“Outside… Alleyway with a few dead Shadow’s.”

“Your handiwork?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Atta girl.” Ghost's quick reply is all she hears and [Y/n] feels her face heat from the praise.

“What can I say? I live to please.” And then she's back to radio silence, she wants nothing more than to get the upper hand here, but she still feels like she’s failing at it. Moving on the ground amongst the Shadow’s hoping to not stumble across one didn't feel right to her, didn’t feel smart. She was a sniper. She yearns for the high ground and distance and she’s been robbed of the one thing she feels like gives her the tactical advantage, so her brain is working overtime to fix it. It’s a mumbled ‘fuck-it’, that has her chancing it and she decides to take to the rooftops. It’s not without difficulty, climbing up to get to the roofs, but the real bitch comes when she has to make the jump from building to building. Each impact making her wince and gnaw at her lip to stop her from groaning at the pain in her leg. But she feels better from here, being able to survey the land and pick the Shadows off from above, thanks to a silencer she klepted off one of them.

“You’re gonna owe me for this.” Came Soap’s voice from the comms but Spider takes note that it echoes, if only slightly and her mind begins turning. No, not an echo. He’s nearby, close enough for her to hear with her ears and the comms piece.

“Why?”

“We’re fixing each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask… Take it off…”

“Show my face?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.” Smug bastard. He’s smirking, she just knows it.

“What about you, Spider?” Soap questions, shifting the conversation to include her.

“What makes you think you deserve to see me, Johnny?” She teases back in response, prompting Soap to huff back a simple, “Cold.” into the comms.

“Tell you what,” she propositions, “come find me and I’ll show you anything you want.”

“Both of you, get to the church. Now.” 

“Yes, sir.” They both echoed. 

It’s not hard for her eyes to catch Soap’s movement, pinning him in her gaze as he maneuvers the alley to her left. Her eyes leave his form as they glance forward to the Shadows ahead of him and she makes the decision to take them out for him. Opting that this was the way to gain a favor for him, having not forgotten how he constantly volunteers her for first watch whenever he can. His reaction is immediate, dropping behind cover and glancing back when he hears the heavy thud of the Shadows bodies hit the ground and he’s looking around to try and find where the shots had come from.

“Who the hell was that?” Soap’s distressed voice rings through the comms.

“It was your guardian angel.” 

“Spider? Are you on the roof?”

“Affirmative.” Was Spider’s quick reply, “I’m coming down… Wait for me?”

“Yeah.”

“By the way,” her voice cracks vividly through the receiver, “you get first watch next time Soap. Consider it my payment for saving your life.”

 “Spider, you’ve got first watch.” Soap shouts across the room to where [Y/n] is sitting, propped up against a wall with her eyes closed.

“What?” Her eyes fly open in surprise at his statement, “No, I had first watch last time. Switch with me.”

“No.” He tries to sound stern but laughter seeps through the word as he watches her throw her head back into the wall with a thunk and groan lowly at his lack of negotiation with her. After only a few seconds she sighs deeply before lifting her head from the wall and locking eyes with Ghost. 

“Switch with me, Ghost.” She whines back exasperated.

“No.” It’s short and curt and she doesn’t let his vague hostility deter her. She wants second watch at least, because right now her eyes feel like someone put sand in them with how horribly tired they feel, with how heavy she is with want for sleep.

“I’ll let you have sex with me.” It’s stated so plainly and so forwardly that it sounds less like a negotiation offer and more like a proclamation. 

“Fucking hell.” Ghost shoots back, his tone barely containing the hint of bewilderment in his voice, which is almost completely drowned out by Soap’s loud and shocked, “What!?” from across the room. But [Y/n] watches Ghost’s eyes closely, noting the change that happens within them. His normally cold eyes had taken on a flicker of heat and the burn of his gaze in that moment made her skin itch with want. It had been a joke, a joke with a bit of truth behind it, yet a joke nonetheless, but the fact that he almost seems to consider her offer makes the hair on the back of her stand up and her mouth parched. Price’s cough of disapproval rips through the air, but [Y/n] decides to dig herself in further.

“I’m kidding…” Her easy, nonchalant laughter bounces off the walls of the small room, “Unless… unless you actually will trade with me then maybe we can work something out?” Her voice trails off taking on a slightly higher tone as she shrugs her shoulders and gestures her hands between the two of them vaguely. 

“No one is trading sexual favors for watch times.” Interrupts Price’s loud voice, hellbent on stomping out whatever the hell this is that’s going on right now.

“What?” She questions, mildly defensive with an all too innocent tone, “I don’t have anything else to really offer right now. Unless you want my knife,” She adds, shifting her gaze from Price’s scolding and directing the offer solely back to Ghost with a hopeful tone, “Then I’ll give you my knife for second watch.” Her eyebrows raise up beneath her mask and her head tilts slightly forward into Ghost’s direction as if to imply that the deal was getting better.

“No.” Price answers in Ghost’s stead, although the fire behind Ghost’s eyes still does not quell as he continues to stare at her motionless. [Y/n] releases an empty sigh, sliding her eyes closed and throwing her head back into the wall.

“Fuck!” She exclaims roughly in defeat, “Fine.”  And Spider picks herself up off of the floor and her hands move to grab the sniper rifle propped against the wall next to where she’d just been sitting. “If any of you need me I’ll be on the roof.” She groans out as she makes her way to the stairs, only stopping to call over her shoulder, “Try not to need me.”

‘Try not to need me.’ It rattles around the empty air downstairs after she’s gone until it sticks in Ghost’s mind. ‘Try not to need me.’ Too late.

It’s well into over an hour of her watch shift when she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up in defense, when she feels like she's not alone anymore. So she turns her head from where she had been laying prone with her rifle watching the streets below between two cinder block openings on the edge of the roof, just in time to catch sight of Ghost making his way over to where she was, sitting next to her with his back to the cinderblock wall.

“You should be sleeping.” Spider mumbled out to him.

“You should be paying attention.” He motions his head slightly to the roads behind him in direction. He catches the way her eyes roll and he can tell she makes a face beneath her balaclava by the way the skin on the bridge of her nose crinkles up slightly.

“Really useful advice L.T,” She mumbles out deadpanned, he can hear the exhaustion clear in her voice, “you ever thought about writing self help books?”

He only hums absentmindedly in response and an empty silence fills the air between them for only a few seconds before he adds in, “You look tired.” 

“Be still my foolish heart,” Spider remarks sarcastically,  releasing her hand on her gun and grabbing at the center of her chest, “Ghost, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you just invited me to bed.”

“Obviously you know better.”

Spider hums limpidly in response.

“Go get some sleep. I’ve got the rest of your watch.”

Her head shakes and a simple reply of “no”, is immediately followed by a yawn and she turns her head over to look into Ghost’s eyes again to scold him limply. “Stop talking about sleep, you're making me yawn.”

“You look like you’re gonna fall asleep on watch. A punishable offense if you do.”

“Maybe I wanna be punished,” Spider teases in a tired voice, “help keeps the brain awake.”

“Can’t punish you if you’re dead from falling asleep on watch.”

“Sounds like you have to be proactive, L.T. Punish me in advance.” The fire is back in his eyes and [Y/n] realizes how deep she’s dug herself in this time, and so she does the only thing she can do. Dig deeper. “Are you going to punish me, sir?”

“It’s not a punishment if you enjoy it.”

“A morale booster, then?” She offers instead, “Promoting healthy team relations and engaging in bonding activities with your soldiers can have a positive influence on their morale and mission performance.”

“You think wanting to fuck your superior is healthy?” 

“No. I think of it as an investment in the betterment of the team, Lieutenant. I stay awake and they stay alive. A win in my books, if you ask me.”

“Yet I didn’t ask.”

“No sir, you didn’t.” [Y/n] takes her time sitting up onto her knees from the position where she lay and moves over easily to sit next to Ghost, back pressed into the cinderblock wall. She reaches over him, torso pressing dangerously into his thighs as she grabs her bag and begins to riffle through it with a leisurely pace, before drawing out her heartbeat sensor. Within a second she is sitting back upright, hands moving to grasp firmly around the device before powering it on and placing it where she had just been laying watching the streets. She peers back up at him, something burning deeply behind her gaze. The smile normally dancing around in her eyes now gone completely, replaced by something altogether darker, and her voice is serious when she tells him, “But all you have to do is say the word.”

“Fucking hell. You’re a minx, you know that.”

“One of my finer qualities, I believe.” She whispers out breathily. [Y/n] makes slow work of invading his space, leaning in until their faces were only inches apart and throwing her leg across his lap, straddling him. Yet she doesn’t lower herself down, opting instead to reach up and release the latches holding on her body armor effectively slipping it off and dropping it to the side.

“Now, what are you going to do if you get shot at?” His question is fair, but it’s simply meant to tease her so she takes the bait.

“Pray they’ve got bad aim.” She states to him as she sits herself down onto his lap.

“And if they don’t?” He presses further into the hypothetical and his hands move from his sides to rest on the outside of her thighs in a teasingly light grip.

“Then I hope you take mercy on me and save my life.”

“I’m not a merciful man.” He states matter-of-factly, hands working up from their spot on her thighs to start moving up to her belt, where they make slow work of undoing the buckle there. Her exhale is shaky at the motion and she breaks eye contact to glance down as his hands work at their agonizing pace. Taking his time as if he had nothing better to do than make her wait for him.

“Then I hope you’ll make my last moments worthwhile.”

“Hmm,” He ponders curiously, fingers popping the button of her pants open, “do you really deserve that?” 

“I’m hoping to win your favor.” She mutters back hopefully as Ghost leisurely pulls down her zipper.

“How do you plan to do that?” Ghost questions her evenly, not a single emotion betraying his voice.

“My dazzling wit and charm?” She’s ready to burst, almost shaking with anticipation as she watches him remove his glove to trace the skin above the edge of her panties.

“Hmm… Try something else.” He remarks mockingly. 

“I’m useful.” She declares in a whine, hands reaching forward to braces on his shoulders as her eyes close with frustration.

“How so?”

The air is silent for a second too long and when he feels as though she has no intention of answering back he captures the elastic band of her panties and lets it snap back harshly against her skin. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m… I’m good with a rifle.” She stutters out quickly, “One of the best.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m light on my feet, quick,” She’s trying to think, her mind reeling trying to remember notable attributes of herself but her brain short circuits and she begins tripping on her words the moment he slips his hand into her pants, cupping her heat through her panties. “I-i can get in and out of places without detection.”

“Keep going.” He presses her, hand moving to pull her panties to the side so his finger can run through her slit, collecting the wetness there.

“I’m good under pressure. Rational.”

“Is that right?” He seems to contemplate her statement, weighing the validity of it given the current circumstances as his finger begins to circle roughly on her clit. Her response is almost immediate, choking out a sobbed “yes” as her breath quickens. 

“Go on then.” He continued plainly, his voice just as even and level as it always was, even as he slips his finger from her clit down to her entrance and plunges into her.

“I’m…” And she has to stop to take a stuttering, stabling breath before lifting her head up from where it watches his hand work into her so that she can lay her forehead on his and stare into his eyes. “I’m damn good at my job,” her left hand moves from his shoulder to fist into the mask at the back of his neck for support, “you know it's true.”

“My intelligence.” She yelps out before he can even tell her to say another thing.

“What about it?”

“I’m. Very. Fucking. Intelligent.” [Y/n] enunciates between panting moans and gritted teeth, “One… one reason Price wanted me in 141.” Her chest is heaving as she shakes her head lightly to clear her thoughts, a poor attempt to get a cohesive string put together. “He found me as a Private. Fuck me,” She whines, “I was exemplary. The goddamn best at everything. I won him over.”

“How’d you manage that? Your dazzling wit and charm?” Ghost teases her with her own words as his thumb moves to rub at her clit in time with his hands sliding in and out within her. [Y/n]’s eyes flutter for a second at the added pleasure and her hand clenched tighter on his neck, twisting the mask fabric in her grip as she leans forward further into him, pressing her hips down to seek his hands movement. Their noses are touching now, barely any space between their mouths as they share each other's breath.

“The spider spins her web to catch what she wants.” She mumbles out through a shaky keen. “I’m soo useful Lieutenant. M-more useful than you could ever know.” Her eyes looked pleadingly into his as her hips moved in time with his hand, “Please don't stop.”

“You get off on praising yourself, Sergeant?” His voice is so goddamn taunting and the slight shame of it burns her face. There’s no other sounds in the air outside except their back and forth, and the sound of his hand moving within her and the slick wet sound of it has her mind reeling with longing and want.

“You’re m-making me.” [Y/n] counters back, “I’m doing what I’m told.” Ghost makes a noise in acknowledgment to her statement before adding a second finger in, working faster as she begins to drip down his hand. 

“Then we’ll add that to the list. The good girl can do as she’s told.” His words of praise are met with her clenching down tightly on his fingers.

He’s startled when he feels the cool, trembling grip of her hand grasping desperately into the bare skin of his wrist beneath his sleeve. There’s something exhilarating about the feeling of her skin on his in this desperate attempt to ground herself to him, with him, when they’re both so covered. And God it feels like fire, feels like every nerve in his body has just been sent into overdrive because all he feels is the cool skin of her hand wrapped firmly around his wrist as her nails dig in sharp and the wet heat of her cunt dripping down his hand.

“You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you wanted, Ghost.” She rasped back in confirmation, throwing her head back.

Ghost’s free hand shoots up from where it had been holding tightly to her thigh, capturing her chin in a bruising grasp and pulling her head down roughly until her forehead rests back on his. Holding her there until they’ve returned to sharing breath and air and there's almost no space between them, before continuing its journey downwards to her neck. Her eyesight falters then and her eyes slide shut when he squeezes at her neck just right and she preens at the motion.

“Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” He demands and he squeezes her throat slightly harder at the command and her eyes slide open, teary and tired. “Atta girl.” And she can’t help but whimper lowly at the praise, panting heavily and tightening her hands grip on the wrist working between her legs. “See, that's not so hard, now is it?” He taunts lowly.

“No sir.” Her head is dizzy and her eyes are swimming with tears and pleasure each time he squeezes his hand around her throat, throwing her that much closer to the edge. [Y/n] can't help the choked, “oh God” she releases when his hands decided to speed up, the movement of her hips failing to keep up with his ministrations. The arch of her back makes quick work of closing the space between their bodies as she gets closer and closer, and her hand leaves his wrist in favor of bracing her forearm onto his shoulder for added support.

“You close?” Ghost asks, and had [Y/n] been in her right mind she would have noticed the glint of something devious slide though his gaze, but instead she just nods back with a tender “please” in response too focused on chasing her budding release. Ghost’s hand doesn’t relent in its hurried pace fucking into her, but he seems as if he’s waiting for something. Holding out on something until the last second and as she begins to spasm around his finger he seems to find exactly what he was looking for, exactly what he’s been waiting for.

His hand leaves from within her and off her neck in an instant and before she can register what's happened she hears her zipper being slid back up. It sends a panic straight through her when the thrumming of her body catches up to her brain and she realizes that she’s been left high and dry. He didn’t let her finish.

“Wh-what? Why?” [Y/n] wants to cry and for a second she’s very close to it. She wants to scream at the fizzling out of her high, shaking from denial she looks down just in time to catch Ghost’s hands thread her button back closed and slip her belt through the buckle tightening it. She lifts her eyes up for a second searching desperately for his and she sees a smug laughter swimming behind them before she draws her line of sight back to his hands. Hoping that if she stares at them long enough she can will them back to work, back to finishing her. 

“You should go get some sleep.” He declares, adding a firm slap to her ass before holding onto it, and he sounds like he’s genuinely on the verge of laughter, like this was some kind of game he’s playing with her that he’s enjoying just a bit more than she is.

“But-but I didn’t…” And she stutters over her words, unable to form anything reasonable in her denial.

Her hand tries to reach down to where Ghost’s had just left, anticipation and her denied release eating at her bones telling her to finish the job, only to get intercepted before she can complete her goal. Ghost’s hand grips at her wrist tightly, bringing it up to rest in the air between their chests. At the same time his other hand rushes up to grasp harshly at her chin bringing her face up in front of his and he slowly peels his eyes away from her hand after a second to look into her own. The heat in them is different now, taking on a chilling burn that leaves her frozen on the spot beneath his gaze. 

“What makes you think you deserve it? This is a punishment, remember? That is what you wanted. What you asked for.”

“Please… ” It’s a pathetic whine, one that he laughs at and her face burns dangerously beneath the fabric on her face.

“Go get some sleep.” Ghost orders again.

“I-i don’t think I can anymore.”

“You will. Consider it a test of your self control.” And when she makes no effort to move from his lap, he cocks his head to the side slightly, adding a taunting, “That’s an order, Sergeant.”

“Th-this isn't over.” [Y/n] states heatedly behind furrowed brows and heavy pants, “I’ll get you back for that.”

“Doubt that.” He husked evenly behind his mask.

Ghost finds her a few hours later when his watch had ended, next to Soap. Both of them sleeping on their backs with her head laid on his shoulder and his arm loosely wrapped around her neck with a light grip on her shoulder. 

“He’s got the kid in a headlock.” Ghost remarks to Price.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Secret III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You're a bit messy

When Mapi takes you out to the park, she doesn't expect it to rain.

But it does.

It rains and rains and rains until she's shivering in the cold and wet as you very determinedly stamp around in the mud by the bank of the lake.

"Be careful!" Mapi calls after you and you stick your tongue out at her.

It was a stupid idea to be caught without an umbrella and without a coat but this was Barcelona and she really wasn't expecting it.

"Come on!" She winces as you sink lower into the mud, ruining the new Sambas she had specifically bought for you.

"But Mami-"

"No, Skatt," Mapi says, covering her horror with a little laugh," Let's go home now."

You huff in annoyance, dipping down once more into the mud before running to her side, hands firmly in your pockets as you drag your muddy feet all the way back to Mapi's nice, clean car.

"Oh!" Ingrid exclaims when you come running into the house about twenty minutes later," You look all messy, Skatt! Did you have fun!"

You push a strand of wet hair out of your face as you grin. "Uh-huh."

You hurry off into the bathroom, leaving a trail of muddy footprints after you.

"She's ruined them," Mapi laments.

"Well," Ingrid replies, pursing her lips," Seeing as the last four pairs of the same shoes ended up the same way, you can't be surprised Mapi."

"Yes I can! I thought it would be different!"

Ingrid shakes her head fondly, pushing out from the kitchen table. "I told you," She says," Skatt doesn't need fancy shoes. You need to start putting her in her wellies even when you don't think it'll rain. Save the fancy shoes for dinners and birthday parties."

Mapi pouts, scuffing her own Sambas on the hard wood flooring. "I just wanted us to match."

"I know."

And Ingrid does know. You look like her, overwhelmingly so. It makes sense obviously but you're truly like her mini and sometimes Mapi's been called things like your auntie or babysitter by strangers and Ingrid knows Mapi hates it.

"But you can match for fancy events," Ingrid continues," It's not worth it ruining another set of shoes because Skatt decided to go digging again."

The bath starts running and Mapi smiles wryly.

"At least she knows it's bath time when she gets muddy."

"Yes," Ingrid says fondly," We've trained her well." She leans towards the bathroom. "Skatt! Are you getting undressed?"

"Yes, Mama!"

"Do you want to wash her up or should I?"

"You can," Mapi says," I'll grab her a change of clothes. You might need to do her hair. It wasn't tied up properly."

"Got it."

When Ingrid enters the bathroom, she's thrown. There's a remarkably lifelike frog toy kicking around in the water. She's never seen it before but she knows Mapi stopped off at the shops before the park and your interest in frogs is almost as high as your interest in bugs so Ingrid supposes you had convinced Mapi to buy it for you.

She lathers up your hair with shampoo after cleaning your body and you hum happily.

"Did you see a lot of bugs on your trip today?"

"Uh-hu! Saw dragonfly and gnats and flies and bumblebees-"

The power on the toy is really going strong, Ingrid notes, because it keeps swimming in circles and she has to wonder what store Mapi bought it at because it's unlike any other bath toy Ingrid's ever seen before.

"-And wasps and Mami had to run away after seeing it because she was scared it was going to string her."

"That's nice, Skatt." Ingrid rinses out your hair, pulls out the plug of the bath and moves to the living room to start towel drying your hair.

Mapi goes to grab your dirty clothes and throw them in the laundry.

That's when it croaks at her.

That's also when she screams.

A frog stares back at her, perched on the taps.

It stares.

Mapi screams again.

"Mapi?!" Ingrid bursts into the room," What is it? Are you hurt?!"

"What is that?!" Mapi points a shaking finger at the creature and you, still wrapped up in your towel, poke your head around the door.

"My frog!"

"What?!" Mapi and Ingrid both demand, whirling around to look at you.

"My frog!" You repeat," Found him in the park. He was sad so I brought him home!"

Ingrid massages her temples and Mapi shrieks again when she sees the frog hop into the now empty bathtub.

"We can't keep the frog."

You grown. "Why not? We kept my millipede."

Ingrid goes pale. "What millipede?"

"The millipede in my terrarium." You point your own finger at Mapi. "The one Mami bought for me."

"She what?!"

"Ingrid...I can explain!"

[pennylanefics]

Lake House - Quinn Hughes

a/n: first time writing for quinn! i really need to get the library fic done and i promise i will, i know it will come to me one of these days 😅 also i was able to get this done late last night! :)

summary: quinn invites you to his family's lake house for a week to get away for a little bit

word count: ~ 1.8k

After a brutal two hour drive in the rain out to Quinn’s family’s lake house, you finally arrived just as the sun was beginning to set, despite your desperate attempts to get Quinn to pull over and wait the storm out. But he wanted to get there in a reasonable time, so he took it slow, while you shielded your eyes the entire time.

Quinn brings your suitcases inside, not wanting you to slip and fall on the wet concrete, so you took this time to look around the house, admiring all the decorations and photos of him and his family. He returns for a second time, bringing the last of your things inside and kicking the door shut behind him.

“I hope it stops raining soon,” he grumbles, kicking his wet shoes off and leaving them on the door mat. You chuckle and walk over to him, brushing his hair away from his face, having been pelted with the drops falling from the sky.

He smiles at you and leans into your touch as your hands come to caress his cheeks. Turning his head, he places a kiss on the palm of your hand, and then one to the other hand right after.

“We have an entire week, I’m sure the weather will get better sometime during our stay.” He nods in response and sighs softly.

“Well, let me give you the official tour,” he grins sweetly, taking your hands in his and beginning to guide you through the house.

“And this is my room,” he opens the final door, showing you a neat bedroom with a nautical theme. It was very cozy, the main colors being creams and navy blues, the bed spread the same color blue. It felt calming, with a photo of a wave on the wall, but Quinn made sure to decorate some things himself, including a photo of you two on the dresser.

“I’m assuming this didn’t come with the house?” You tease, pointing to it. It’s from Brady Tkachuk’s wedding, the first big event the two of you attended as a couple. It was a photo that the photographer took of all the groomsmen with their dates, the two of you looking at each other and laughing, your smiles wide.

“It’s my favorite picture of us,” he admits, coming up behind you. “I needed something to personalize the room a little, with photos that don’t include Jack and Luke.”

The rest of the night is spent sitting on the couch, staring out the window and watching the lightning light up the sky and the rain hit the lake in a hypnotizing manner.

The next couple of days, the weather was thankfully better, but there was more rain forecasted towards the end of your stay. The first day there, you two spend the morning swimming in the lake and messing around with each other, Quinn playfully chasing you around the muddy yard; you were sliding and falling every few seconds, but neither of you cared one bit, grass and mud getting stuck to your damp skin.

After you get all cleaned up and showered, Quinn started to prepare dinner and you helped, taking direction from him since he was the cook between the two of you. When it was finally in the oven, you sit out on the back deck, your legs in Quinn’s lap as you both read the books you were currently reading, his hand stroking up and down your shin, sometimes creeping up to your knee.

“What do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks after ten minutes or so of quiet. The birds were chirping around you, stopping near you on the birdhouse filled with seeds, giving you an entertaining sight to watch as they flitter around.

“We could take the boat out on the lake, it’s supposed to be clear skies,” you say, looking out at the sunset.

The clouds created a breathtaking pattern in the sky, the sunlight beaming from behind them, the rays golden and shining. It was bright orange with hints of purple and pink, the sun a massive orange orb on the horizon.

“So beautiful,” you whisper, not having heard a word that Quinn said in response to your suggestion. He just laughs and shakes his head a little. 

“Did you hear anything I said?” He asks, though he was well aware of the answer.

“No, sorry honey,” you turn back to him, patting his cheek.

“I said we could definitely do that, it won’t be too windy either so that’ll mean the lake will be calm.”

“Then sounds like a plan,” you agree, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Now let me go back to looking at the sunset.” He laughs loudly, his head throwing back as he does. 

“You’d rather look at the sunset than your handsome boyfriend?” He teases you, reaching over your bodies to grab your chin in his hands and turn your head back to him.

“I don’t know…have you seen the sky right now?” You continue to play along with the joke. “I will say it’s making your eyes look so magnificent, and I didn’t think it was possible for them to get prettier.”

He blushes at your words and hides his face behind his book, feeling very bashful all of a sudden. Quinn was never one to do well with compliments. Sure, he was happy to hear them, but he never knew how to accept them, or react when he was given one. You always told him it makes him even cuter, which leads him to always get even more shy.

His phone goes off for the timer for the food being done, so you head inside to plate everything and finish up the side dishes. Once everything is plated, you sit down at the dining room table, with you at the head of the table and Quinn to your left.

Dinner is quiet for the most part, with small conversation here and there, but you enjoy each other’s company and the peace of the still house. This is the kind of getaway the two of you needed, and you were so glad that you took a week off work to be here with him.

The days following are just as fun as the first day you were there. The second day, as promised, Quinn took you out on their boat and you two spent some time jumping off the side of the boat and swimming around in the water rather than near the land. 

Unfortunately, the third and fourth days, rain was forecasted, so you found some things to do inside. On the third day, you relaxed by having a movie marathon with a mixture of your favorite movies, with a small break so that Quinn could catch up on some reading he wanted to get done. But, to still be with one another, you laid with your head in his lap and took a small nap before dinnertime rolled around.

The fourth day is when things took a slight turn.

You were inside, curled up on the couch with some popcorn, talking about the plans for the upcoming hockey season and how you’d work around your schedule to travel with him and things alike, when the front door starts to jiggle and suddenly, Jack barges in, announcing his arrival.

“No need to worry! I have arrived!” He shouts, Luke following close behind. Quinn’s expression drops with disappointment and he turns to look at you. Quinn sometimes struggles with speaking what he’s thinking, but his face always says it all.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He grumbles, rubbing his face. You set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you, standing to hug his brothers. Just then, his parents stroll in with their things.

“Mom, I told you I was taking (Y/N) here for the week and didn’t want anyone else here,” Quinn complains, finally standing from the couch to walk over to his parents.

You’ve met them plenty of times already, so that wasn’t an issue. But you knew Quinn wasn’t happy, and you suddenly felt like a nuisance. However, you were well aware that no one thought that of you, and this was all his family’s doing, as he did tell them he’d be there with you, and specifically wanted to be alone.

You greet them after Quinn does, giving both of them a hug before stepping to the side.

“Sorry for crashing your little romantic getaway,” Jack comes over to you, nudging your shoulder and laughing awkwardly.

“It’s not like that,” you mumble. “We’ve both been super stressed and needed to decompress away from everything.” 

Jack still takes your words as suggestive, and he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly. You scoff at him and shove him away from you just as Luke walks up to the two of you.

“I tried to tell them not to come here, but they wouldn’t listen,” Luke tries to advocate for yours and Quinn’s side.

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I’m not the one you should be trying to apologize to.” You nod your head in Quinn’s direction, where he was in a slightly heated disagreement with his dad, his hands running through his hair in an annoyed manner.

When his parents finally go to their room and Jack and Luke head upstairs, Quinn returns to where you stand and hides his face in your neck, nuzzling into your shoulder. His arms go around your torso, just holding you to him.

“Hey, it’s alright, honey,” you whisper. He was very clearly upset that his family couldn’t give him just a week to himself, and he didn’t need to say this for you to know why he was upset.

“I told them not to come here,” he mumbles against your shirt. Your hands begin to mess with the curls at the back of his neck, twirling them between your fingers and combing through them.

“I know. We can try to take another trip together in a couple months, if that’ll make you feel better. Or we can leave a day early, in the morning, because I’d rather not be driving in the rain at night.”

Quinn is hesitant to answer, but after a few moments of thinking, he nods his head.

“I think I wanna leave in the morning.”

Your heart aches at the tone of his voice. Quinn was a family man more than anything else, but when he wanted his time away, he was serious about it. His brothers and parents crashing your small vacation has thrown off all of his plans, and he was now no longer wanted to be here.

“Okay. We can pack everything up right now, spend the rest of our night in the room, until dinner, and leave early before anyone wakes up. I’m so sorry, baby.” He raises his head and kisses you sweetly, silently thanking you for being so understanding and kind.

“It’ll be okay, honey, I promise,” you whisper, wanting him to know that you’re going to be here for him and advocate for him and his wellbeing.

[jaeyunluvr]

BAMBI (l.hs)

lee heeseung x fem!reader. fluff (?) drabble. 928 words. inspired by bambi (baekhyun). detective! heeseung. mafia boss!reader.

for :: @okwonyo 's CELESTIAL BALLET event

warnings :: mentions of a gun, death, drugs, illegal activities, smoking etc.

!! please remember that this is a work of fiction, nothing is to be practiced or represents anyone in reality.

( FEEL IT LIKE TIMELY RAIN THAT SEEPS INTO MY DRY HEART )

walking through the dark alleys of the streets of his beloved country, lee heeseung, the only detective who carried out one man missions, was looking for a highly wanted drug dealer of the underworld.

information had it that the deal was about to happen in an abandoned railway tunnel, and so he reached the entrance of it. the tunnel was definitely not used since a long time, and it was absolutely stinky, a little damp even because of the pipeline running over it. the country's civil engineers were quite something.

he walked slowly, not to cause any trouble. there was nobody inside the tunnel, but he could sense an uninviting presence. there was nobody inside the tunnel, but he was careful not to make his presence known.

he approached a pillar which had '32' written on it, placing his black suitcase on the floor as it leaned onto the pillar. he adjusted his hat and leaned against the cold cement wall, pulling out a cigar.

he knew the smell of the smoke would cause trouble, but he couldn't care less. he had to face them in a few minutes anyway.

as he let out a puff of smoke, he heard shuffling at one corner of the tunnel. he dropped the cigar onto the muddy floor and crushed it dead with his shoe and he stepped towards the sound, slowly.

unconsciously, his hand reached to the back of his belt, wrapping his fingers around the grip of the pistol, his index curling onto the trigger.

he could hear incoherent sounds of a conversation, and could confirm that there were two parties involved, as he neared them.

they stood right behind a cement partition, against which he pressed himself, to get a clear hearing of what they were speaking about. eavesdropping wasn't a good thing but he had to do it.

there was a light emitting, from which he guessed was torch due to the rectilinear light path. it had a hint of red. strange, heeseung thought.

"what's with the torch? does little princess not have a phone to use a flashlight?" a low voice spoke, sounding sarcastic. princess?

"oh? didn't think you were such an imbecile to not know phones can be tracked." a female?

never in his lifetime heeseung thought he'd cross paths with a female drug dealer. who was she anyways?

his head pondered over multiple questions, sidetracking him from their conversation until he heard a gunshot ringing through his ears due to the close proximity of where he was standing.

lee heeseung was bewildered so as to the details of the attack. he heard hurried footsteps, but they weren't panicked ones. it seemed like a getaway shuffle.

he felt the woman walk towards him and he instantly pressed himself against the wall with all his might and he held his breath to go unnoticed.

however, the lady swiftly walked past him. she was wearing a red dress and her pretty feet mounted on pointed heels, a gun holster gracing her thigh, visible through the slit of her dress.

heeseung was taken aback by her presence, nevertheless he quietly looked behind the wall and found the limp, cold body of a man in his thirties.

taking a mental note of his features, heeseung followed the lady to the edge of the tunnel, as quietly as possible.

as he neared the end of it, he could hear the drizzle and could sense the petrichor. the lady tapped her ear, speaking into the bluetooth device which he didn't notice until now.

a motorbike pulled up right next to the track, she immediately stepped into the rain, taking a moment to inhale the fresh surroundings.

her red dress was starting to get tainted by droplets of water, turning it into a darker shade, her loose hair sticking to her bare shoulders.

she exhaled and turned around. and lee heeseung felt his world stop. he has never seen someone so beautiful. maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the red dress. maybe it was just her.

the raindrops sinked into her eyelashes, dripping past her cheeks and dropping on her collarbones. water slipped past her soft, red tinted lips, it made her smile.

lee heeseung was staring in awe. staring for too long that no secret detective should be staring at his target. no human in their proper senses would be staring at a murderer.

the gun holster at her thigh, contrasted her whole aura, if he ignored the fact that she had just killed someone. she looked too pleasant to be a part of the underworld.

she exhaled once again and turned around, hopping on the vehicle. and lee heeseung's breath paused as she turned her head around and met his eyes.

he held eye contact with her, not sure if he was challenging her or getting lost in her eyes.

her lips curled into a sinister smirk, which he didn't expect would form on such a pretty face, sending chills down his spine. she grabbed the helmet her driver handed to her, pulled it over her head. giving him one last look, she shut the tinted shield and the machine drove off, leaving heeseung in a swirling mixture of emotions.

did he just find love? or did he face his enemy? nevertheless, she smirked like she knew him inside out, like he would snap into nothing in her presence and like he had nothing over her.

but lee heeseung, was captivated and allured by her, in every way possible and was already dying to see her again.

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