#please tell me if ive done something wrong

[zipper-zipp]

happy fraxus day! @fuckyeahfraxus

[two-bats]

i have 100 hours in bg3 and finally decided to draw my tav :)

[image ID: a light blue background with reference images on the left, and a portrait on the right. the reference images are several screenshots of a Baldur's Gate 3 player character, which is a pink tiefling with long horns that spiral upward, black facial markings, pointed ears, and red shoulder-length hair that parts in the middle. the screenshots are all from the hips and up, with the character facing multiple different directions. to the right is a half-rendered bust of the player character, notably with a slightly larger nose, fluffier hair, and thicker horns. their expression is neutral. end ID.]

[red-velvet-0w0]

i need to apologize for something but im not sure what to apologize for. can somebody please tell what i have done wrong so i can beg you for forgiveness?

[yellowyarn]

I ordered an autism child (a twyla boogeyman doll) and it arrives on Thursday (:

[image id: a photo of the Twyla Creepover party set. The doll has waist length teal hair with purple streaks. there is a silver hair clip on the side of her head. She has light purple skin with darker purple hands that turn into dark purple whisps, she also has purple whisps on her lower legs. she is wearing a purple jumper with light purple whisps on it, a black skirt with pink spider webs on it and purple spider earrings. The doll is holding a purple book titled “Intro to talismans” and a light purple backpack shaped like a bunny with blue button eyes. The doll is wearing purple. There is a small light purple bunny figurine next to the doll’s feet. /id end]

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Severance Pay

literally just Hanma getting hard while beating a man to death for 1.9k words (no reader, trust me you don't wanna be in this one anyway)

TW: Dark content?, tragically unproofread, generally violent themes, blood, shuji gets a little worked up lowkey, um shoe humping???thigh riding???kinda???, is that sexual assault? i mean yeah probably, shuji really gets off on the power here etcetc.

Note: yeah sorry about this, but cheers it's time to get drunk now.

Kinda dark content; Consume responsibly.

The end of the work day. The thrill of having a singular task unchecked, a task that you know you can manage with ease - maybe even enjoy. The feeling of saving the best for last.

That’s what was stirring in Hanma’s chest as he sat on a plush velvet stool at the bar of a vacant VIP lounge. He was in relatively high spirits despite the room reeking of desperation and sex and cortisol shed by unhappily wed businessmen taking advantage of the strip club’s menu of women. Dance music reverberated in his chest, rumbling comfortably like thunder before a lightning strike. A familiar message urging patrons to grab their last drink and settle their tabs was broadcast through the establishment with all the professionalism an exhausted bartender could muster. 

The last job of the day was designed especially for him, a special case that Kisaki deemed deserving of Hanma’s special touch. A job that Hanma’s tendency for histrionics and drama couldn’t mess up.

The distant clang of metal slipping and clicking back in place brought Hanma to attention. His lithe muscles pulled taut with anticipation and a loose, sloppy smile of genuine pleasure replaced his neutral countenance and he turned to greet the newcomer, “Ah! I thought I smelled fresh blood!” Hanma joked, letting his cigarette bob lazily around his words. A younger man emerged from the shadow of the entrance way and paled from top to bottom. Hanma could all but hear the dice clatter in his brain, unsure if the gamble of dashing back towards where two huge bouncers stood guard was worth it. “Relax kid,” Hanma’s words lulled like an audible eye roll as he stood to his full height from a velvet stool, “s’a joke. Cool it. Ya made it just in time, Cinderella. Thought maybe you’d lost your faith in good ol’ big brother Toman.” The deep voice was deceptively chipper despite the trademark sarcasm.

Had it been anyone else making small talk in place of a playful greeting, the younger man might have laughed it off, played along, bowed and continued on following the rules of the organization he sought to leave. But the tower standing over him was Hanma Shuji and that tone didn’t match the unrelenting look of anticipation for something that couldn’t be predicted in his eyes. It didn’t match his reputation as-

“The Reaper.” Terror bolted the man’s feet in place. Prey always recognizes a predator. 

“Oh now, now! The Reaper was my father! Please, call me Hanma - No, better, Aniki.” He looked up and exhaled a long smoke laden breath complete with eye contact so oppressive it was sure to strip any delusion the younger man might possibly have about where the power lay. “What’d I say? Relax! I’m only here for your exit interview.” Cue the last long drag of his cigarette, savored for a moment, “And, of course, to administer your severance pay.”

A stuttered breath of relief left the smaller man who finally followed the gestured order to sit across from Hanma. Anticipation built pressure in Shuji’s chest. He was in his element. Luring his prey into a false sense of security with the ease of a master, gently swirling his glass of whiskey and smiling widely when the younger man flinched as Shuji slammed the glass onto the fine wooden table harder than was necessary. Shuji choked down the manic desire to giggle as the proverbial rope of tension began to fray just as he uttered the words, “Shall we begin?”

–

Shuji’s fist repeatedly cracked into the younger man’s face. Hanma watched with delight from where he held his ex-kohai down on the glossy wood of the bar by the throat. Dull, meaty impact made way for wet crackling as Shuji made progress beating the now hardly recognizable face. Teeth were bent in, loose from the repeated abuse, bloodied by trauma and scraping and catching along Shuji’s own unprotected knuckles. When Shuji withdrew his hand, it was red and angry and dripping. A chill of excitement bordering delirium shot down his spine at the thought he couldn’t tell where his victim’s blood stopped and his own began.

The tall man laughed with his whole body at the sputtered attempts of his victim to beg and plead for mercy that Hanma had no intention to grant. At last, teeth spilled like Chicklets over the bar. Blood gushed from severely split lips with every slurred pop of his continued pleas. Finally tired of such repetitive work, Hanma gripped the man by the back of his head, fingers knotted in greasy, sweaty hair, as congealing blood cemented it in place. Hanma admired his handiwork close up. A pool of crimson collected in the man’s mouth and Shuji shook the younger’s head to watch the reflection of himself ripple and distort and pour in messy clotted rivers over swollen, broken lips.

“Spit at me.” He spoke with the tone of a command. It was neither a request, nor an option, but an order.

“N-niki, i-I,” came the gargled response.

“Ah, ah, ah,” He cooed as if to a child, “I didn’t ask.” Hanma gripped his swollen and battered jaw and his mouth split into a sadistic smile as he slammed the man's head down, triggering a gasp turned gagging, choking fit. 

Hanma didn’t flinch when warm clotted fluid spotted his face over and over as the man coughed and sputtered. Thicker splotches ran down his cheeks then his neck to be absorbed by the exorbitantly expensive foreign silk of Shuji’s shirt. He didn’t react at all except to involuntarily roll his eyes back in some twisted relief. A throaty groan escaped him at the obscenity of the comforting ritual of feeling blood on his skin and the strain of someone desperately clinging to life beneath his grip. Shuji’s breathy giggle danced along his victim’s face. “So he can follow orders after all.” Windpipe held tightly with Sin, Punishment landed the final blow before his consciousness failed. 

Hanma made short work of securing the young man to the bolted bar stool. He poured himself another glass of whiskey and stifled a chuckle at it landing in a sticky puddle as he put it down. Calling the man to wake was useless, he got no response until he cracked the back of his hand across the poor fuck’s face. Swollen eyelids split to show a sliver of bloodshot and pinkened eyes. Golden irises and a chiseled face decorated in streaks of slowly scabbing and dusting, darkness met the man. It sounded far away when Shuji spoke, “Stay with me sunshine. You want your severance so badly, ya gotta stay awake for it.” The gangster leaned down further and all but purred in his ear, “Show Aniki how hard you can fight for it, ah?” Two fingers pressed uncomfortably at the top and bottom of each swollen eye and spread the lids higher. “Eyes on me.” Tears cut clean trails through evidence of struggle and battery and diluted the blood in the corners of his eyes. Hiccuped sobs wracked the otherwise limp body worn out from struggling.

Shuji brought a knee to the man’s crotch and leaned more and more weight. Yells turned to screams that pitched higher and higher until Hanma was sure he’d destroy his voice. Beautiful vocals to the soundtrack of agony Hanma played. In this moment he was all powerful, the conductor of a symphony of his creation. God nothing got him off as much as this kind of power. 

He ground his knee deeper. “Grind on it,” he demanded and to his sadistic delight, the man bucked his hips with whatever force he had left, desperate to please his tormentor despite the pain. Hanma wrapped a hand around his throat and smirked, “Humping my knee like a bitch in heat. Fucking pathetic,” He scoffed mockingly, gleeful at having so thoroughly broken his toy. He let it go on until the man’s muscles gave out before he made a show of pulling out two stacks of bills. In salt crusted eyes, he saw it. 

Hope.

Hanma recognized it from countless other fights, other killings. Nothing brought him such elation as the moment his victim found it only to lose it. Hanma eagerly continued his show so that he might soon watch his favorite part. 

With excessive force, Shuji forced his mouth open and ignored the clunk from previous dislocation or worse to shove the currency in his mouth. Watching the muscles of his throat pulsate helplessly around dry bills and retching uselessly satisfied Hanma’s sick need for entertainment enough to finally unstick his whiskey glass from the mess of the bar and savor a long sip. He grabbed the rest of the thick Hibiki whiskey and dumped it on his victim who writhed and let out muffled screams with renewed panic from pain wherever alcohol soaked into still-fresh wounds. He was caught up in the white hot sting to realize Shuji had flicked his lighter on and set the bills sticking out from his mouth. Panic reached a fever pitch when the heat of fire met alcohol sodden lips. 

Shuji has always loved fire. Loved the way flames lick skin urging it to melt away under its intimate touch. Loved the colors. Loved the way it forced jerking, panicked movements from someone all too near it. He shunted a cigarette from his carton, “Can I bug ya for a light?” the cheeky bastard asked as if the man could hear him as he leaned in to catch enough of the flame to start with a delicious drag. He enjoyed the show with his cigarette from a loveseat a few feet away. It’d be a lie to say his dick didn’t kick in his slacks a few times.

He watched until he thought the flames might be burned into his eyes. Kisaki would be annoyed. Hanma’s eye prescription always suffers after he gets to teach a lesson this way. Eventually, Shuji got up and emptied five of six shots in his revolver starting from the legs and ending at the man’s throat. 

On his way out, he casually holds the gun to his own head and flicks the revolver. He pulls the trigger mid step to see if this time he’ll join his victim in hell. But his head remains on his shoulders in one piece after the hammer kicks, so he hands the gun to the bouncer already equipped with a handkerchief, adjusts himself in his pants, and prides himself on a job well done.

–

A few mornings later, Kisaki casually opens the newspaper to find a photo of a generic man in his mid twenties in the obituaries. A kind man, it said, who always gave what he could. A sense of humor that could make anyone laugh. Died on the job, providing for his family. Survived by his wife and their newborn. 

Ye so i posted that, cool.

I'mma tag anyone who acknowledged the post about this yesterday, big apologies if that wasn't actually interest as much as it was you being nice and supporting me and this is not fun for you

@a-nuisance-called-sam @citrusteaa @sin-and-punishment @kisa-rae @bertholdts--butt

lets maybe not acknowledge this happened

[flowerpatchhomos]

Wtf are these asks-

Like genuinely did I do something wrong because I'd very much like to be told if I did but either way dawg what

Coming back to this; if I've actually done something wrong, dont do this

Actually just fucking tell me, please my paranoia can't take it man

[stepfordgoth]

Bought something on Etsy over a week ago, didn't even realize where I was purchasing it from until a couple of days ago when I was looking at the tracking info. It's from someone who lives in Ukraine. And it occurred to me that the reason it's going to take over a month to arrive is because there are literally two wars between me and that stupid little piece of wood gift. Idk why this makes me feel guilty - it's a good thing to buy from a Ukrainian person right? Especially with the war happening? - but I'm feeling so guilty about it. Like did I really need to buy this from the other side of the world? Shouldn't I have like, found a US equivalent or something...

[somefisher]

Im gonna throw up im sick of feeling awful all the time

[antisocialgaycat]

i would just like to say that if i ever do something that makes you sad or angry or anything literally please tell me so even if you cant forgive me, i can at least change my behaviours and actions and become less of an asshole in the future

[arsenicflame]

adding onto this with developed thoughts

I do largely think the processing he has done is about the leg, and not his relationship with Ed, and that he's conflating one with the other, acting like because he's 'fine' now with having lost his leg, that also means he's fine with it being Ed who did it to him.

I don't think his relationship with Ed is in any way fixed because of this (I think the fact that they have very specifically not had a single conversation, not been in a single shot together since is a huge signifier of that) its more that this one (very large) aspect is something Izzy has managed to put into the past with the help of the crew.

I think Izzy's known Ed long enough to not be expecting any further apologies (past his non specific non apology to the crew) and knows from here on out he needs to deal with his feelings on his own, needs to learn to move on and move past if he wants to stay here (and oh, he wants to stay here now)

Izzy's been cleaning up Ed's messes for so long, its a hard habit to kick- what's one more? what's one more when its him?

i think the reason izzy can be so blasé about his relationship with ed is not because hes taken to blaming a shark instead, but because hes actually already done a lot of the processing in the previous episode.

hes mourned his leg, hes had his drunk crying rants. hes gone through the five stages of grief. and then? the crew reaches out to him, offers him their support. they make him a new leg, they nominate him their new figurehead. when he stands there on the prow of the ship, leg on, letter in hand, thats his acceptance, thats his moving on.

[sturnioloarchive]

Can you please do something, with Matt teaching the reader how to finger herself? 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

"𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑺𝑶 𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬" 𝑴.𝑺

❥ 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : 𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒕, 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝑺𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑶𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈) 𝒍𝒎𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

❥ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 1 : 𝑴𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 (𝒐𝒃𝒗), 𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒖𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒑𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒆�� 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑, 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖!!

❥ 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 2 : 𝑯𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒚𝒔𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕

༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻

You and Matt have been dating for almost three months now, never done anything really sexual

except the making out between the two of youBut you wanted to try, you wanted to please him, and yourself.

So thats why this happened

Matt, Chris and Nick were just done filming the new Wednesday video, you were in Matt's room.

Sitting there and reading some new book you got, while listening to some music in your headphones.

You saw a text from Matt, "Are you still up?"

You answered with a yes, after five minutes, Matt came in the room.

Locking the door behind him, because Nick and Chris love to just come without knocking.

You took out your headphones when you saw him, stopping the song, and closing your book.

"Hi pretty baby" He came close to you, laying down on the bed beside you.

"Hi" you said shyly, kissing him on the cheek, and he returned the favor.

"Was everything alright with the filming?"

"Yeah, it was, what about you hm?" Matt looked straight into your eyes, smiling.

"Ive been reading and listening to music, for 3 hours straight" you smiled back at him, getting closer to him so you can hug him.

"Yeah? What were you reading baby" he asked, curious.

"Book" you said quickly while blushing.

"Yeah, obviously" Matt chuckled while looking at you.

"Anyways, uh.." nervously you started picking on your nails.

"Whats wrong?" he looked at you worried

"No..never mind,"

"Cmon y/n, tell me." Matt demanded.

"You know..ive never done, uh-anything, sexual.." You now avoided his gaze, blushing madly.

"Yeah, what about that hm?" He asked teasingly, he knew what exactly you meant.

"Neither with myself neither with..you" looking up at him for a second, then you looked away once again.

"Want me to teach you baby?" You nodded.

"I-if you want to.." he smiled at your sudden shyness.

Then he started kissing your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, here and there.

You whimpered from the feeling of his lips, on your hot skin.

"Gonna teach you first, how to touch your little pussy" he murmured against your neck.

"Y-yeah, okay" whining, when he bit your neck slightly.

"Yeah? C'mon," he said while addressing you to remove your clothes, and you did, first your top and then your shorts.

"lay between my legs." He started positioning you two, your head laying against his chest, and your legs spread over his legs.

"Give me your hand sweet girl" he placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You gave him your hand, his own laying on yours.

"Now" placing your hands on your pussy, "Gonna touch your clit first okay?" You nodded.

"Pl-please Matt" he smirked from your neediness.

"Such a needy baby, having me teaching her how to, touch herself. Because shes too dumb to find out alone hm?" He started motioning your hand with his

On your clit, rubbing slowly.

"F-fuck yes! Please matt" you let out a small moan, when the pace went to fast from slow.

"Shh, im right here, gonna give you what you want" he kissed your forehead sweetly.

You felt your stomach tightening, and you moaned out louder.

"M-matt i-i think" closing your eyes shut, you whimpered.

"Gonna cum? Go on baby, cum." And you did, moaning out his name.

He continued rubbing your clit, you tried to jerk your hips away, from the over stimulation.

"No, no," he slaped your clit slightly, making you whine.

"Now youre going to finger yourself." Placing your hand between your hole.

"Start with the middle fingers first," you started putting your middle finger inside slowly, whining from the slight burning feeling.

"Good girl, now that you're done, start pushing it in and out, to stretch yourself" you started pushing it in and put, the feeling slightly pleasurable.

"Curl your finger up." You listened to him, curling it up, you breath out shakily.

"Feel good, no? Try putting another one." You nodded against his chest, starting to put in your ring finger.

Whimpering from another stretch, you started pushing your fingers in and out.

Curling them up as matt said.

"Good baby, always listening to me." He said stroking you hair.

"M-matt it-it doesn't feel that good.." you pouted.

"No?" How about i do it instead yeah?" You nodded slightly, getting your fingers out of your pussy.

"Give me your fingers babe" you did, confused.

Them he sucked on your fingers, cleaning them up.

You whimpered from his actions.

"Pl-please" he stopped sucking on your fingers, and chuckled.

"Shh, here, relax now okay? Gonna start with one finger" nodding, you spread out your legs more.

He then started rubbing your, leaky hole. Drawing small circles

"D-dont tease" you closed your eyes shut, and whined.

He chuckled at that

"Easy now, here" he now starting pushing his middle, finger inside your cunt.

You moaned softly, from the feeling of his much longer and thicker fingers.

He started pumping it in and out, circling your clit with his thumb.

Your hips started chasing his hand.

"M-more-nghh-Matt please" you needed more, more of him.

And then he started pushing his, ring finger too. Pumping in and out. His pace getting faster.

The room was filled with filthy sounds

Your slick cunt, your whimpers and moans.

And his heavy breathing.

"You gonna cum, sweetheart? Huh?, can feel your pretty pussy. Tightening around my fingers." Matt kissed your cheek after the last word.

You nodded at that, feeling a new feeling.

"I think-i think" you were a whining mess, under his control.

"Go on baby, just let out." He chuckled and pumped his fingers, in and out

Faster, and his assault on your clit getting harder.

You moaned his name out loudly, when you came, for the second time.

"Good girl, my pretty baby, you did so good." Matt praised while kissing you.

He then removed your fingers from your cunt

And licked & sucked them clean.

You whimpered at the sight before you.

"Taste so good baby, gonna let me have a proper taste? Hm"

"Y-yes please Matthew" he smirked at your desperation.

He then, pushed you gently, and laid you down. On the bed.

Going between your legs and spreading them open.

"Ready?" You nodded

He licked a long stripe from, your hole to your clit.

Sucking on your clit, you tried to close your legs, but matt hiked them around his shoulders.

"M-matty! F-fuck feels so good" he started sucking more, from your words

He pulled out slightly and collected saliva, spitting on your clit.

He looked up at you, and started shaking his head into your pussy.

His long tongue doing magical things, that has your legs shaking.

Soon you felt that feeling again.

"M'gonna cum!" He groaned into your cunt.

"M-matt!" You moaned out his name, like a mantra.

Soon after, you suddenly came, hard.

Squirting into his face, you blushed at this

"S-shit matt! I didn't meant to-" he kissed your clit, and then pulled back.

"You're doing this shit again." He bite his bottom lip slightly

"But-" looking at him.

"Not a question ma."

༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻ ༺୨♥︎୧༻

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆.

𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒃𝒐𝒙 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏 💋

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[divinesolas]

Unexpected Surprise

Summary: While attempting to gain the support of the vale, jeyne arryn has plans of her own for the prince.

r.q: Everyone forgets house Arryn😔🤘🏻 baddies of the vale Can you write something w Jace and an Arryn maybe lady Jayne’s little sister or daughter or something? Not a totally unreasonable alliance !! They have the coolest castle and knights also Ms Aemma Arryn ™️ like hello!! (I’m impatient as hell for more Vale coverage in season 2)

w.c: 900+

c.w: baela and jacaerys are not betrothed, arryn!reader jenye’s daughter, FLUFF, just a very cute fic, drabble, not proofread

a.n: IVE HAD THIS DONE SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR NO REASON OMGGGG but with the recent jeyne content i felt inspired to write this !! just something super simple <3 HOPE YOU ENJOY !! LOVE UUUU GUYS

masterlist - requests open

“Im sorry, what my lady?”

“I wish for you to marry my daughter.”

This is not how jacaerys thought this would go. When he arrived in the vale he thought he thought he would have to make simple small talk, present some of the benefits, hells even throw some complements her way in order to convince her. This however had not been in his cards.

“I'm sorry my lady i do not understand.”

“My daughter, y/n remains unmarried, around your age, a sweet girl, agree to wed her and me and my men will bend the knee.”

He blinks. He has no clue what to say to her. Jeyne stands after a moment, “I shall go fetch her.” He watches as one of the guards tries to stop her and tells her he will go retrieve the girl but Jeyne seems determined to go herself and he moves letting her leave. Jacaerys stands awkwardly in the middle of the room unsure of what to do.

He is not too sure he can just flat out agree to a proposal without his mother position, it is not like he is a second son, he is the heir to the queen. The next king, his wife to be the next queen. Yet when he sees you walking into the room, wearing a long dress in your house colors with your mother trialing behind with a pleased look on her face he finds himself wanting to agree to the marriage right away.

You are stunning. Easily the most beautiful women he’s ever seen, sure he hasn’t seen that many women but it doesn’t matter. He watches as you bow and mindlessly nods in acknowledgment, unable to take his eyes off you.

Jeyne looks between the two of you with a satisfied look. “Why don’t you show the prince around?” She gives you a pointed look to which you nod, “Of course i would be happy to.”

He walks over and offers you his arm with a smile on his face and you graceful take it before you begin to walk off with him. Jeyne stays behind and smiles to herself.

“My mother is very forward i apologize to you.” He simply shakes his head, he finds himself look at you instead of the halls he’s supposed to be looking at. “It is not an issue my lady, I rather appreciate it.” You look at him curiously but turn away once you notice he is already looking at you. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Many people speak in riddles, not saying what they mean or truly want, your mother is a rare gem.” You smile at the praise of your mother, “She truly is.”

You lead him outside and begin to tell him about the different plants and different sculptures around the courtyards. He is so charmed by you. The way you light up when you spot something and you begin to tell him of a memory you have, like how your mother scolded you for jumping around in the fountain, or when you almost fell out of one of the window's when you fell asleep.

“You truly love this place.” He can tell. The way you smile at the guards as they walk by or the way you know every detail about everything in the walls. But he sees the way you falter slightly at his words, “Am i wrong?”

You shake your head vigorously, “no no i do, its just i have never been away from here. My mother is a very protective woman, she waves away any suitors, she never even lets me leave the eyrie it is ridiculous!” You realize you're letting your emotions show too much and bow your head, “i am sorry that was out of line.”

He grabs your hands and you look at him with wide eyes. “I understand my lady, my mother is similar, i have truly never traveled to far, i wish to explore, once my mother has her rightful throne i believe i will take the time to see westeros a little bit,” He pauses before he speaks again, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I could take you with me? if that is what you wish my lady.”

He watches as your eyes begin to glow and you beam at him, “truly? oh nothing would make me happier.” He nods and grips your hands tighter, “I shall take you everywhere.”

He does not expect you to throw your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. He wraps his hands around your lower back, pushing his head into your neck and breathing in your scent. “I will accept your mothers propsal at once. You will fly with me to winterfell.” You pull back and give him an eager look. “Winterfell? Truly?” He nods, “I am to go meet lord cregan stark.”

You can barely contain your excitement at the thought of seeing something that was not the eyrie, especially a place as grand as winterfell.

Jeyne watched you two smile at one another from a window above with a small smile on her face. She does not hear the guard approaching her from behind, “You seem pleased my lady.” She says nothing to him for a moment, simply continuing to stare at the two of you. “Tell my men to ready themselves for war. It seems he will accept my proposal.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[nouvxllev]

Request!!

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Jenna and R are like on ldr cuz of her work, after mooonthhss, J surprises R by going back home early to her. J gets so worried cuz R isn't in the house, and she can't contact her. R gets home wasted, J confronts her, R breaks down, rambling about how she just misses Jenna, not knowing it is actually Jenna who she was speaking to... she mistakes her to be Emma..😭🙏🏻

unbearable uncertainty

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: request! ^^

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: slight angst? maybe? bittersweet??

a/n: wrote tara carpenter smut then dipped. oh my god, i truly apologize for going on an unknowingly and unbearable hiatus from writing. but on the bright side, i met someone whos truly so special and i cherish the most on here :] thank you for the request and im sorry if ive been holding it back for months!

(ps. ive forgotten how to write entirely, please be patient with me)

Long goodbyes were never easy.

How could Jenna ever forget the last piece of comfort she felt in your arms as you held her for the final time before she boarded the plane? The warmth and security she found when you whispered "I love you" was something she couldn't find elsewhere.

You hugged her so tightly, Jenna felt as if you were trying to fold her into your very being.

You always did that, always have.

But you held her a little longer. Closer, tighter. As if it'll be the last time Jenna falls in love with you. It felt too surreal when she heard your voice started breaking in tears like there was a cloud over your heart Jenna used to bring life in.

She tried to memorize every detail of your face, every line and shadow, every crease and every feature like you were a past lover she's been searching for, she wanted to hold onto each imperfection and perfection as if capturing this moment in her heart could somehow lessen the pain of parting.

When you reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek, and she leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth that would soon be gone. It was a gesture so tender, so full of love, that it made her heart ache even more.

Would she have done something differently? Perhaps tell you she got it all wrong, tell the producers and chosen to live in peace with you and frolic in some field of flowers like a coming of age movie.

No, she could only swallow the lump in her throat and urge her heart to stop grieving for something that wasn't even dead but merely distant.

Vermont proved to be a cold comfort, like winter for a thousand nights without somebody to hold on, stark contrast to the warmth she'd known for all these months.

The first night was the hardest—cruel, even. As she unpacked her bags in the apartment paid for b the producers, it was a far cry from the home you had shared. Despite its charm for space, it felt emptier than it should've been. A shell.

Jenna remembers lying awake that night, unable to find solace even in the darkness. Each thought weighed heavier than the last, fearing you would grow to resent the fame she would have declined in a heartbeat if given the choice, that loving her had become more of a chore than a joy.

The frequent overseas flights and constant altering of time zones only added to the strain, affecting even how her heart would beat. Conversations became shorter while days grew longer, and only letters and distant updates from you brought reassurance. She missed the moments of quiet intimacy, the laughter shared, and the smile she could reach up and kiss, the comfort of knowing she was always there for you.

It was a constant routine of staring at the ceiling, desperate to imagine your arounds around her and your warm breath against the neck. The loneliness was a crushing weight, far more realistic than a mere idea it was. Unbearable.

She found herself wanting for the familiar warmth and solace that only your presence could provide her. She would watch herself listening for your voice, remembering how you would tell her if she's been overworking, half-expecting to hear your laughter or even a slight tone or maybe even the sound of your footsteps.

She always found small ways to feel connected to you.

The letters you sent were her lifeline. She would read them over and over as if it were new ink, tracing the words with her fingers that carried your thoughts and reassurances, imagining your voice speaking them. Each letter was a piece of you, a reminder that you were thinking of her, missing her just as much.

The voice calls were both a blessing and a curse.

Hearing your voice brought her comfort, but it also made the distance between you feel even more unbearable. She would stay up late into the night, talking to you, laughing with you, sharing her day and listening to yours. But when the call ended, silence would descend, and the emptiness would return with a vengeance. She would lie in bed, clutching the pillow, trying to replay the sound of your voice.

So it was a huge, pain-in-the-ass problem for her, the amount of calls and thousands of sleepless nights with her arms wrapped around a pillow instead of the love of her life was a step away from insanity. It seemed dramatic, but can you blame a girl!? Love always had a way of making seem things insignificant in comparison.

Another grueling month without the love of your life? She couldn't and wouldn't even bear it, you would have to finally cut the two parts of her brain in half and throw away the other one to endure that kind of torture.

So what started as a joke with her finger hovering over the "book flight" button while on the phone with you turned out to be, surprise surprise, not even close to a silly little joke.

She clicked it impulsively, without a second thought or even a first one.

Her heart raced faster than ever with the thought of seeing you again. Feeling your arms around her, hearing you laugh, smile, and talk was all the motivation she needed. It was like a recurring dream you’d betray another day for to live in.

And here she is now, at your place, luggage in hand in the dead of night, looking like she fled the country, with that familiar airport scent still clinging to her clothes and hair. She smelled like whatever hit-terminal coffee it was that day and recycled air.

Jenna's been muttering to herself all evening, "Pick up, pick up, pick up, oh my God, who leaves their house unlocked!?"

Her phone, balanced on her shoulder, was one slip away from hitting the ground, and she was one missed call away from losing it. She imagine the look on your face when you saw her standing there, unannounced yet so desperately wanted, not like wanting to send out a search party for you!

It was voicemail after voicemail, a ring before a cruel tone that mocked her for seconds, the unknowing certainty that something had happened to you.

You’ve been M.I.A ever since she arrived, and the last text she received from you was a breezy, "I’m going out tonight with co-workers" followed by a thousand kisses. The gesture was sweet, but it’s not helping now that it’s 12 fucking a.m. and you’re nowhere to be found.

She paced back and forth in your living room, the anxiety gnawing at her insides and the sharp pain from her palm to her heart had never been so severe.

Every creak of the floorboards made her thoughts race, hoping it was you finally coming home. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by her thoughts replaying your voice. She glanced at the clock on the wall that displayed digits she seriously did not want to see.

She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she saw you with her own eyes, until she could touch you and confirm that you were truly safe.

Her hands immediately went back to her phone, wondering if your co-workers would even answer a distress actress concerned about her girlfriend if there was a high and 100% chance they were wasted with you. Obviously, each call went straight to voicemail.

Why is being sent on delivered the most humiliating ever!?

"Fuck," Jenna cursed under her breath, her head lowered in defeat as she stared at the countless of messages she sent to your friends, co-workers, shit even your family!

The only thought going through her head is "thank you for birthing Emma Myers."

emma

just said goodbye shes round the corner

sent one attachment

going back to her place

Even light couldn't travel as fast compared to how quickly Jenna reacted when that attachment processed in her brain. It was a photo of you (thank fuck), looking a bit tipsy, sure, maybe knocked in the head, but you were unharmed, waving goodbye to Emma.

The wave of relief that washed over Jenna felt like an overall baptism—a splash of water to commemorate coming back to a harsher reality than she didn't expect, but reality nonetheless.

She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but she shoved the thought aside. Her focus was on you, and getting to you as fast as possible.

If you weren't going to come back home sooner or later, she'd come to you. Geared up and mentally preparing everything to combat the cold weather, plants of how she would take care of you, and a surprise. Aka, her.

Is what she would've followed through if she didn’t hear the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock.

The sound was so abrupt. Too sudden and swift it nearly made her jump out of her skin unlike any scare people tried on her.

Her heart pounded as she turned towards the door, hoping, begging, and nearly willing the universe to grant her at least one moment of sanity. She watched the door creak open, and there you were—alive. You stumbled in, eyes bleary but safe, and Jenna felt the tension drain from her body as if it had never been there.

"Y/n—!" Jenna's sudden movement was a blur, barely having time to embrace yourself before she collided with you, the force of her embrace nearly knocking out the ragged breath you had left.

You could've noticed the slight tremble in her frame, heart pounding against your chest, and a hand clinging onto your shirt that pulled you closer if you weren't drunk.

“Daaamn, girl, you walk faast! I swear we dropped you at your street?? Why are you in—shit—in my house??” Your voice slurred and you stumbled as if the very act required more effort than you could muster, mind sluggish and your sense dulled, voice thick and unsteady.

You were undeniably and completely fucked. To say the least.

Drunk, Intoxicated. Mentally impaired. Right, how could Jenna even forget that?

You barely managed to step inside when your legs gave out, sending you tumbling to the floor.

The world tilted and spun around you as if you were a sun blinded by its own solar system. Your vision blurred and you struggled to make sense of the swirling images and a familiar blobby brunette girl in your home.

To no surprise, Jenna was at your side in an instant, crouching down with her face filled with concern as she looked you over, her arms reaching out to steady you. "Y/n… Why on earth do you have a huge straight bump on your forehead?"

"I…" you mumbled, blinking up at her. Her face looked like one of those spiky and blobbed images you see through a rain-streaked window. "I was—I was watching one of those 'how to be a good girlfriend in an LDR relationship' videos on the way home. And—and well, there was a pole."

Jenna's expression shifted, concern to curiosity. "What… What? What do you mean? Why? Why are you searching those—"

You felt like your chest was closing in on you, your throat mimicked those of a barren wasteland, and embarrassment washed over you like a tidal wave. You wanted to shrug it off, to laugh and tell her you were just curious, that it was nothing. But you couldn't.

"Because!" you burst out, voice trembling as you looked away from her eyes, "How else am I supposed to believe that I'm good enough when Jenna's halfway across the world? When every time she touches me, it's like she thinks I'm everything you've ever wished for in a star, and I—"

You faltered, your breath catching, the words threatened to slip away from you, but the emotions, doubt and fear—they had been building up for too long. You couldn’t stop now, even if you wanted to.

"I don't deserve it, I'm not enough for her. There's something more that i should be doing, something more I could be, because how can I be enough when she's there and I'm here? I can't hold her, I can't comfort her when she's stressed, I cant show her how much I care every day like I want to. How am I supposed to truly feel that I'm doing fine and she's feeling loved? Every time she tells me that I'm enough, I try to believe her, but—but there's this voice in my head that keeps saying, 'What if she's just saying it? What if one day, she realized she was wrong? That I'm not great, that she's just loving a version of me she created in her head, that she finds a fatal flaw in me that keeps her away from loving me? What if I'm not who she thought I was?"

You can't speak anymore, but your mouth persists in words like a machine. Your eyes already welled up, you bit your lip to stop it from trembling and forming a frown.

"I want to be perfect for her. I want her to feel like she's never missing anything from me or feel like she's falling short from the love she gives me and I give her. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know anything. So I watch those stupid videos to hope I'll find a way to be enough, to finally feel like I am. But no matter what I do, it feels like it'll never be. How can I be it when I'm not with her? How can I be enough from so far away?"

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to reach out, "I just miss her, Emma. I just miss her so damn much. I thought I could handle it, you know? That I could be strong, that I could keep it together until the next time I saw her. But it's been too long, I keep feeling like I'm falling apart. That my relationship is falling apart for her. I thought maybe if I just stepped back, she'd find what she needed without me getting in the way."

"I try to keep things feeling normal. I try to tell myself that the distance is temporary, that we’re strong enough to make it through, but what if we’re not? What if the longer this goes on, the more we rip apart? I don’t want to lose her, but I feel like I’m losing pieces of us every day."

"I'm scared, Emma," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared that one day, she'll take all her words back, she'll realize it's not enough. That every text she sends me is in complete dread, that she's just staying for the hell of it. That she finds a better relationship than what we have now."

Your gaze was locked on the floor, but Jenna's eyes were on you, wide and creased with confusion. The words you've thrown at her just echoed in her mind, looping relentlessly until they became the only thing she could hear along with the race of her heart thudding so loudly. She had been silent the whole time, listening to you pour out your fears, insecurities, on how much you've missed her.

She shouldn't have. She wasn't Emma.

Jenna's eyes flickered to you, your eyes was stuck on the floor, your shoulders slumped as if you were carrying the weight of the world. And in that moment, despite the ache in her chest, all she wanted was to hold you. It's the only thing that felt natural for her.

She closed the gap between you two, close enough that her knees brushed yours, and slowly enough as if she were afraid that you might pull away. The contact felt like a connection, barely there, yet it grounded you and your worries. It felt familiar.

Jenna's breath as she looked at you, her eyes searching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that you were still here with her.

Without a word, she lifted her arms and wrapped them around you at last. Her touch was tentative, she was unsure you wanted her there, but as her hand rested on your back, she felt the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. You were relaxed in her arms, you became yourself underneath her hands. She pulled you in closer like she was trying to shield you from the weight of whatever thought you had put on yourself.

"Y/n," she spoke, you knew that voice. it wasn't distant or abstract, it was real, present, and undeniably her. You knew this. The fact that you didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. In fact, the moment her presence reached you, it was as if a piece of you had been anchored to the ground again.

You knew her.

The warmth of her skin, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as you let yourself pull in her, it was familiar, comforting. You hadn't even realized how tightly you've been holding onto your fears and worries. But now, with her, they're no longe the loud and consuming force they had been before.

"Jenna?" you whispered, your voice was barely audible, trembling as it left your lips and hope it gets through with her.

It was the first time you had said her name aloud in her presence. You could feel her heartbeat against her chest, the steady rhythm that took both of you off. You pulled away from her embrace, looking at her as if you saw a ghost.

"I'm back home," she whispered back, her voice soft like it never changed.

Her words settled into your bones, offering a comfort that you didn't realize you've been craving so desperately. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to believe them. She wasn’t just saying it—she meant it. Jenna was here, she wasn’t going to leave.

You didn’t care what she had to say; it felt impolite, selfish even, but all you wanted was to crash into her arms like you had before. You were no longer standing at a distance. You didn’t think, you didn’t hesitate, you just moved.

With a sudden rush, you wrapped your arms around her as if she were the only lifeline you had in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control.

You clung to her as you murmured her name over and over again as if it was a prayer the heavens needed to hear. Your fingers gripped the fabric of her shirt and every part of you was aware of her. How her body felt against yours, the way she held you felt like a promise saying she wouldn't let you go in her life.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking as you pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, your tears blurring your vision. "I'm sorry for everything. For doubting you, for pushing you away when you clearly didn't want to.

"You’re finally here," you murmured, as you looked up at her, "You’re back with me."

Jenna's grip around you tightened, and you could feel her smile that always made you float in the air, even though you couldn't see it. "I missed you," she said softly, "I was so worried about you and I kept thinking about all the things we used to do together. I missed the way you laugh, the way you always know how to make me feel better. I just wanted to hear your voice again, to feel close to you. Don't worry about falling short, I'm already standing on a mountain of love that you've given me."

It was her, she was the same Jenna you've always loved. How she held you in your arms, how she kissed you after apologizing countless of times, how she feels in your arms, how she moves, how she laughs, how she makes you feel like you're safe and secured. Uncertainty washed away from you.

[quintinh43]

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

---

There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change  of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n,"  he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?"  Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?"  Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God"  both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

[moonstruckme]

hi mae, if its not too much trouble could you do something with james and r where r has to deal with likr a creep on a train or smth. ive just had a real weird experience rn and its just.hm

Ugh I'm so sorry babe, I wish we each had a James with us all the time

cw: man being creepy (no sa or harassment, just gross behavior)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 934 words

You clock the danger long before your boyfriend does, but you suppose it’s a lot more drilled into one of you than the other. 

The man gets on a few stops after you do, and his gaze seems aimless until it lands on you. It’s not a busy time; the bus is nearly empty, but of course he goes and stands next to you as if there are no open seats. You should have known better than to sit by the aisle. 

James’ chatter fades into the background as your mind starts to whirl with possibilities. What if this man grabs you? What if he tries to keep you from getting off at your stop? What if he waits until you get off, and then follows you home? 

“Hey.” James is looking at you quizzically. He reaches for your opposite arm, scrubbing up and down lightly. “You okay?” 

You use the touch as an excuse to lean into his side, murmuring so the man can’t hear you. “If that guy’s still here when it’s my stop, will you get off with me? Or I could ride to yours, if that’s better.” 

James looks past you, noticing the man for the first time, and you see clarity dawn on his expression as he does the same math you had. You can feel the man’s stare burning into the side of your head; he’s not even being subtle about it. James pulls you closer to his side. 

“Hey, mate,” he says, tension underlying his jovial tone. “Do you wanna take a seat? There are plenty open.” 

You chance a look over, and the man’s eyes lock with yours like it’s the opportunity he’s been waiting for. You feel James’ arm tense. 

“You have pretty hair,” the man says. 

You smile tersely. Polite, carefully unfriendly. “Thanks.” 

That seems to satisfy him; the man does take a seat. The one directly behind you. Anxiety prickles over your skin at not being able to see him. 

You at least feel better now that James is aware, too. He keeps his face turned to you, one eye on the seat behind you, as he picks up your conversation about the film you’ve just seen. Remus and Sirius were the ones who wanted to see it in the cinema; they thought it was artistic and meaningful, whereas you and James are in agreement it was dull and pretentious. Odd, aimless dialogue, experimental camera angles, hardly any plot. James thinks if you can get Sirius away from Remus he’ll agree. Competitive thing that he is, he’s hatching a plan to do so when the man leans forward and pushes his nose into your hair. 

The sound of his inhale sends goosebumps racing down every inch of your skin. You go rigid, attempting subtly to lean forward while all the nerves in your body scream at you to run. 

“Hey, what the fuck?” James doesn’t take care to lower his voice. 

As though you’d been waiting for permission, you jump away, getting as far out of reach as possible before turning around. James’ arm has barred across the back of your seat, his hand gripping the pole on the opposite side and the muscles in his forearm strained with tension. 

“What makes you think you can do that to someone?” he asks, equal parts incredulous and irate. 

People in the bus have turned to look. The bus slows as you approach the next stop. 

“Let’s get off,” you tell James. 

“What?” He turns to you for a second before seeming to remember he should be keeping an eye on the man. Who has been silent, but for what he said to you. He looks entertained by James’ outburst, which almost scares you worse than anything that’s happened thus far. You know James is very fit, but you don’t want to get him in a fight. “Why should we get off? We haven’t done anything wrong!” 

The doors open, and people start to file off. “James,” you say, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and giving a slight tug. “Please.” 

He hesitates a second longer, looking somewhere between bewildered and outraged, before he says, “Fine, okay,” and grabs your bag. You tug him into the aisle, careful to keep both of you out of reach of the man. Once you’re off the bus, you start walking quickly, pulling James along and casting glances over your shoulder to be sure the man from the bus doesn’t follow. It’s only when the bus pulls away and he hasn’t gotten off that you stop. 

“Ugh.” You heave a tremendous sigh, hugging James around the middle and dropping your forehead to his chest. “Sorry.” 

“That was fucking insane,” he says, cupping the back of your head protectively. “Does that happen to you often?” 

You let out a little laugh. “That specifically? No. But I know better than to talk to guys like that.” 

“Sorry.” James kisses your hairline. Lets his lips rest there. “I thought it was going to help.” 

“It’s not your fault, he was going to be weird either way. I’m really glad you were there.” 

He squeezes you tighter. It helps you release the tension from your shoulders, giving in to him. “That was fucking disgusting,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m ever not there.” 

You shudder. “Is it weird that I feel like I need to shower?” 

“Nope. But do it at mine. I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about that guy finding your place for the next several days.” 

“How would he do that, James?” 

“Dunno. But just to be safe.”