#KIT IS SO HARD TO WRITE. I GET SO CONCERNED WHEN I WRITE HER. going back through old character notes.....making new ones.......

[whoslaurapalmer]

my mom: you on a roll? me: no. i've yet again reached 'am i writing this character right' my mom: of course you are!!!! don't doubt yourself!!!! me: NO. I ALWAYS DO

[wtfsteveharrington]

love love love your writing, could you do something with luca? maybe reader gets hurt in the kitchen and he has to help her

a/n: thank you so much :’) i went a different kitchen than you meant probably but i hope u like <33

warning!! contains non-graphic mentions of accidental cuts, blood, and a physical injury.

The apartment is peaceful. Candles lit, soft music playing from a playlist you both curate, and it was pretty enough outside to leave the windows cracked open for a breeze.

You’re turning around with a stack of t-shirt’s in your arms, only half paying attention when you feel yourself bump into something that promptly shatters to the ground and disrupts the peaceful environment.

“Shit!” You both echo at the same time from being startled.

Luca’s wrapping a towel around his hand, leaving everything in the kitchen behind as he hunts you down. “Darling? What happened? Are you alright?” He took just enough time to realize that the knife had gotten him when he jumped, acknowledged he was alright, and quickly went to check on you. You’d always come on the top of his priority list.

You’re standing in a pile of glass, a deep set frown on your lips as you look around at mess made by a broken vase. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I was trying to put away our laundry and forgot I moved the vase to the edge of the dresser earlier when we were cleaning. Just caught the corner and it fell.”

Looking up at him with a little pout, “I’m sor-“

You’ve honed in on his towel wrapped hand, the hint of blood soaking through the thin material.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely fucked my hand.” He gives you some sort of ‘What can you do’ look while shrugging his shoulders. Luca has had his fair share of kitchen incidents and was much more accustom to injuries. It was deep enough to need stitches, just needed to be rinsed and bandaged.

You, however? Very much not used to seeing your boyfriend like this.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to grab his wrist, taking a peek under the towel and wincing. “Luca!” He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re dragging him back into the kitchen to get him taken care of.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the sink, trying to fight the urge to panic at the sight of him injured due to a mistake you made. He can see the way your face is all twisted up with concern and he hates it.

“M’alright… Done much worse to myself before. Won’t even leave a scar.” A scar? You frown more as you make sure the cut is clean and step back to go fish out the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“Stay put, please.”

Luca, a man, stands there as he’s told but does admire the sway of your ass as you barrel away. He then gets to admire the swell of your cleavage under your top and - “Shit!” He hissed out as you’re grabbing his hand again to apply a bit of ointment.

“Shoulda paid less attention to my boobs and you would have seen this coming.” You tease while trying so hard to keep the mood as light as you can muster. There was still a course of guilt running through your veins as you continue patching him up.

“I truly am fine, you know? Comes with the job territory. Won’t be the last time I get cut.” He leans in to press a tender kiss to your head and you gravitate towards the touch. You know it’s not a life or death situation but between being embarrassed over both breaking the vase and indirectly injuring Luca you were a little solemn to say the least.

“I know, just hate I caused this.” The bandaid is smoothed over his skin and you give it another once over before bringing it to your lips, kissing over the bandaid. Luca allows you to continue fretting over the injury for a moment until he’s moving his hand to cup your jaw and make look up at him.

“It was an accident, no?” You both nod. “Exactly… I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine. Don’t want you beating yourself up over this.”

You take a deep breath and allow his words to sink in for a moment before nodding once again. Eyes flickering up to his before you lean in and press a tender kiss to his lips. “M’sorry you got hurt…” Another kiss. “Was kinda hot how well you handled it though.”

Luca laughs against your mouth, a wide grin on his features as he feels your anxiety finally start to settle. He steals one more kiss before stepping back to acknowledge the state of the kitchen, giving your waist a squeeze before he goes.

He glances over the cutting board that was the culprit of injury and the food that started to burn while he was tended to. Shrugging his shoulders, turning to smirk at you with pure love and devotion in his eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s go have a date night out instead.”

A hand claps against the flesh of your ass as he passes you to go get changed.

[poeticallyspiteful]

Hi there.

Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️

kiss it better

newt scamander x reader

fluff (making out)

cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell

summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.

notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))

16+ please!!

“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”

it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.

“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”

oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.

“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”

but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.

“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”

newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.

“come inside.”

theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.

“well, i best be off.”

you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”

“we have a case!”

“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.

scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.

and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.

sneaky bastard.

you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.

glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.

newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.

“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.

quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.

you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.

for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.

clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.

“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”

“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”

before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.

holy fucking shit.

you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.

“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.

carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.

“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”

newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.

you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.

“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.

“no magic?” he asked.

“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”

newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”

you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—

as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.

and forward was onto his lap.

you had spoken too soon.

you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.

“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.

“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.

newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”

“newt,” you whispered.

“what, love?”

“please kiss me.”

newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.

you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”

“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”

“i’ll kiss it better.”

[strawberryforks]

blue walls, blue eyes, and the blue blanket // cole walter x reader

summary: you don’t have a good home life and end up unofficially moving in with the walter boys.

warnings: physical & verbal abuse, underage drinking, counsellors depicted in a negative light, swearing, canon divergence–jackie’s family never passes away, so while katherine and her mother are still good friends, they’ve not met/moved in with the walters.

word count: 5957

there’s a ding, and the principal is speaking over the pa. everyone stops what they’re doing so nothing is missed. after all, this doesn’t happen often.

the teacher freezes, dry erase marker still pressed firmly against the board, the end squishing and ink bleeding atop the letter he was writing and danny, who’s sitting beside you, gives you a look. you know its meaning, recognize the weight behind it, and know this routine. you stand up quickly. the backs of your knees slam into the hard plastic you had been sitting on and the chair goes skittering back, bumping into the pair of desks behind you.

you’re too tired to send that apologetic smile to anyone else. fortunately danny isn’t. making sure you aren’t alone, aren’t the only one being disruptive and making noise in an otherwise silent classroom, he braces a hand on the back of his chair, twisting around, to face your wide-eyed classmates. “sorry about that,” he whispers.

your movements are all harsh. they’re fast and full of annoyance, as you swipe your textbook, pencil kit, and water bottle off your desk and into your awaiting tote bag.

standing up, you make your way to the door. the teacher stares daggers at you the entire way. They go to grab your arm and you flinch away. “don’t touch me,” you grit, hands gripping around the doorknob so tightly it hurts. air is hitting your face, propelled towards you by the door you shoved open, when you hear your dismissal “please send y/n l/n to guidance,” spoken over the announcements. your teacher follows you out into the hallway, shouting instructions that you reluctantly follow, after you.

you count the tiles on your way. nearly running into the blue door, you end at fifty six.

ms jacobs, tara, as she’ll insist you call her, is a nice enough lady. she has curly brown hair, brown eyes, and perfectly painted on lipstick. she looks disarming, as a counsellor with the numbers of everyone that could ruin your life on speed dial, you suppose she has to. still, this isn’t new. she leads you further into the room and gestures to a chair “take a seat.”

when you don't, her smile becomes more strained. “please, y/n. this doesn’t need to be difficult, we just need to have a chat.”

you sigh, shoulders sagging as you plop down into the hundredth blue thing in this office. doors, trim, there’s a ridiculous amount of the colour and you don’t like it. blue, represents sadness. it’s something you’ve had enough of. sure, there’s other colours. posters upon posters–some neon, and green leaves stuck onto a large potted plant. there’s other colours just like there’s other feelings, but the one you’re stuck on, the one you can’t get over is sadness; it's blue.

“i hate the colour blue, Ms. Jacobs.” You tell her.

“why?” she asks, interested in you opening up further. you don’t.

“are you going to give me the run-down? tell me what i can and can’t say?”

her brows furrow. “do i need to? i called you here to talk about your grades but if there’s something else going on–”

“there isn’t ms jacobs. i do appreciate the concern, though. about my grades. they’re passing, i don’t see the problem.” you didn’t have a single grade above fifty five. it was hard to, when all of your teachers assigned heaps and heaps of homework and you would rather take a deep-dive into hellfire, brimstone, and lakes of lava, then return to the place you were expected to complete it at.

“call me tara.” you don’t.

“ms jacobs, if it would make you happy, i’ll try harder.”

“it would, y/n. thank you.”

you gather your things and stand. a glance at your phone lets you know your second class is over, so you plan to head to the cafeteria. “and y/n, just know that whatever you say to me is confidential.” Unless you are or are planning to hurt yourself, someone else, or if someone is hurting you.

“bye ms jacobs.”

walking into the cafeteria was masochistic in a way, when they were serving your favourite food, and you had no lunch or money to buy any with. still, in your hurried text chain with danny, this is where you had decided to meet. If you had to sit with the theatre kids to score some time with your friend, you would, although it would be better if you could grab him and go somewhere that didn’t make your mouth water and stomach ache.

walking over to his table, you noticed alex was there too. Just chatting with his brother. You and alex weren’t the best friends, but he was nice enough, and like issac, lee, nathan, and cole, you had his number written down in your notepad under the ‘just in case’ column. you didn’t mind alex, he was polite and much like his brother, danny, never made you feel less than. alex was always armed with a smile.

“danny!” you called, announcing your presence so you wouldn’t scare anyone. you smiled at Alex who as expected, mirrored your expression. “nice to see you. mind if I cut in and steal your brother?”

alex nods, “be my guest. i’ll see you at the end of the day danny!”

he leaves and then you’re pulling danny up and along with you. he barely has time to grab his lunchbox before the two of you are leaving the cafeteria and heading outside. you slump down against the brick wall and danny takes a seat across from you. cross-legged, he pulls out two sandwiches and hands one to you. you eyes widen.

“i’m pretty observant,” he supplies, shrugging.

“thank you, d” you eat the sandwich, and it’s a good one. “do you have plans after school?” ‘please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy, please don’t be busy’ you repeat in your head over and over again. it’s a mantra, you’re manifesting. hoping, hoping, hoping.

“y/n/n, i’m sorry, i actually do. erin tried out for the school’s production and she wants help going over her lines–i would invite you to tag along but…”

“no, no!” yoy laugh. manifesting doesn’t work, mantras are pointless, and shit, what are you supposed to do about tonight? “no, danny. don’t worry about it. i know you like erin and this is the perfect opportunity! if she’s asking for help with lines–i mean you’re awesome–but let’s be real, you can go over lines with anyone. so, if she’s asking you specifically for help, that's such a good–a really good sign!”

you two talk for a while longer but it’s easy to see your mind is elsewhere.

the bell rings, you head to your last classes, and then home.

you’ve got to go home.

well, to your house. that place, those four walls, they stopped being your home a long time ago. when your dad got drunk and your mom got mean.

cole walter pulls up beside you on your way home. his truck slows down, nearly to a stop, and you keep walking. your headphones are on and you’re pretending you can’t hear him. you can, but, you hope he’ll tire of shouting, slam his food on the gas pedal, and leave you in a cloud of dust. “y/n, hey! l/n, you need a ride or what?”

the truck stops, pulls off the side of the road and then you’re hearing a door slam and cringing, face crinkling as you realise you should’ve just said no. shouted it, even.

cole walter jogs up to you. he knows your house is quite far away. too far away to be walking. he calls to you again but you’re still walking forward. he places his hand on your shoulder. you know he’s there. you know he’s beside him and still you fucking flinch. the second time today and you're feeling pathetic. you shouldn’t be–really shouldn’t be. it’s not your fault that people can’t seem to respect the concept of personal space, not your fault that your trust has been violated, shredded and spat out, so many times that touch makes you jump. makes you want to jump, or crawl, your way out of your own skin. you flip your headphones down, letting them fall around your neck, but turning your music up a few clicks so you can still hear it. music is your vice, but no one’s complaining because it’s better than alcohol or drugs or, i don't know, being an asshole–you do that too. unintentionally sometimes. like now.

“what?” you snap. on the defensive.

cole isn’t surprised by your flinching. You were dead to the world, listening to music so loud he could hear it from where he stood paces away from you. if he were you–if it was your hand that had sat down onto his shoulder and surprised him he probably would have shouted. he caught you off guard, he was sorry. both of his hands stuck up in the air. “that’s my bad. sorry for scaring you.”

“sorry for–” you guess he did scare you. in a way. “it’s fine. what are you doing here?” you take your time looking at cole. his sharp jaw, full lips, his blue eyes. usually you hate that colour, but on him? it’s not so bad.

“offering you a ride. youe place is pretty far from here, yeah?”

“it is but i like walking.”

“walking is fine and all, but it’s getting colder and it gets dark around five now. by the time you make it home it’ll be past that. my truck has heat, comfy seats, and i’ll even let you have aux.”

you’re not a stranger to the effect cole walter has on everyone. not at all. when he smiles at you, you feel your cheeks warm. you’re an idiot for not taking him up on that offer. your feet already ache and your legs burn.

some things hurt more, though.

actions, all of them, have consequences.

“i’m fine, cole. but thank you. you’re sweet.”

he shakes his head. you aren’t walking anymore, instead, stopped on the side of the road just waiting. this conversation, it’s going places. places you don’t like. “i can’t let you walk home alone. not in good conscience.”

he’s jogging back to his truck and pulling up beside you. he’s leaning over the centre console and pushing the door open. leaning over further, and helping you up, not starting to drive again until your seatbelt is buckled. if only that was the least of your worries. if. only.

“so what do you want to play?”

you plug in your phone and queue up your playlist. a sad song blasts and you hit skip very quickly, not missing the questioning look cole sends you. you laugh, “don’t tell me you’ve never listened to sad music while you’re reading.”

“i don’t read much, and most of the music i listen to is because of the lyrics. those ones were… dark.”

choosing to disregard most of his statement, you echoed his words back to him. “you don’t read much?”

“alex reads a lot. you two would get along.”

“shared interests aren’t everything. we don’t have much in common but i enjoy your company and danny and i click and we both hate each other's favourite tv show with a passion.”

“what show is that?” you tell him and he grins. “that’s my favourite too–seriously. we should get together and watch it sometime.”

“i’d love that!” so, shared interests aren’t everything, but they’re certainly something. you smile for a couple more kilometres and then it gets harder. when you see the sign with your civic on it, you know that the ride, no matter how awesome it was, and how much fun you had, wasn’t worth it.

you hop out of the truck–cole offered to walk you to the door but you denied, knowing you were already in for it. “thank you, though.”

He nodded. “i can give you a ride tomorrow, too. anytime you need one, really. just ask–or get danny to. I really don’t mind.” you smile. thank him again and climb out of the truck. you walk confidently until he pulls out of the long driveway and onto the road. then you sigh, and it’s because of cole’s conscience that you get home before it’s dark enough for you to slip in unnoticed.

you pause on the porch. you don’t want to go in, but you don’t have a choice. not really. what are your other options? run off into the woods and let yourself be some colorado woodland creature’s lunch? knowing what’s coming, it doesn’t sound too bad. you open the door and nearly sob when the wind slams it shut behind you.

your heart beats hard in your chest like your father’s boots do on the floor. “where the hell have you been! days, gone for days. you couldn’t call, couldn’t fucking text,” with each word, most of them slurred, he storms closer. it’s not even suppertime and his eyes are glassed over with that familiar film, his breath a pungent reminder, as obvious as the one in his hand, of what he’s been drinking all day. your mother is behind him in the hallway, puffing on a cigarette, uninterested. “there’s no respect! ya here the brat? thinking they run the place. comin’ and goin without a care.”

“i don’t–i know i don’t run the place.”

“damn right you don’t!” the half empty–you’ve never been a glass-half-full type of person, not growing up in this–bottle of beer come flying at the wall. it hits just above your head, the liquid and brown pieces of glass falling all over you.

“look what you made me do now! gone and spilled m’drink.”

you had taken your converse off at the door. always being yelled at for trekking in mud and dirtying the floor, the hurried steps you take backwards, hurt. your dad is wearing work boots, steel toe, but the only thing between you and the broken glass is a thin pair of socks. your skin splits. the light blue fabric on your feet turns dark red.

you whimper and each step hurts more than the last. then you bump into the wall. “dad, please.”

“calling me tha’ like you think it’ll make me forgive you. fuck,” he throws a glance over his shoulder. “how’d we make something so… so pathetic?”

your mom shrugs, like she hasn’t a clue, either.

“dad, please. i’m sorry, okay? i’ll call next time.”

“there won’t be a fucking next time! get your shit and get out. all we do for you, all we do and you’re still impossible. keep you fed, clothed, give you a place to sleep and just get attitude, attitude, and disrespect. i’m done being disrespected. done!”

“you can’t just kick me out! i have nowhere to go.” you yell. you yelled. you yelled. oh god. oh hell. oh shit. you see his leg rear back and you go to jump out of the way. you’ve already been kicked out–you just need to get out, and quickly. you jump over his leg but then his fist is wrapped in your hair and you’re falling. then the boot you dodged is slamming into you side. again, again, again. tears are streaming down your face. you’re sobbing.

then he’s picking you up by your shirt. lifting you, dragging you. he opens the door, grabs your bag, your shoes, and throws them outside. then, then he throws you. you land on the porch, body aching and pressing into the hardwood.

the door slams and you’re still sobbing. you’re pretty sure that your new mantra is ‘fuck’. it’s what you repeat over and over again as you drag yourself up and away from the front door. You need to get away, you need to get away. You really need to. creating distance between you and that door, you and those people, is priority.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.”

running isn’t really in the cards for you. you limp away and don’t miss your mother peering out the kitchen window. you guess that from her perspective you do look pathetic. but no more pathetic than your dad, the grown man who had to hurt you to feel powerful and get his point across. your pace is terrible but the darker it gets, the further you get. you’re in the woods now, with no idea where exactly you are and not much supplies. maybe you will end up as woodland creature dinner. there’s not much you can do to help it now. you think about calling someone and then you realise your phone isn’t in your bag. you start to shake. choked laughter bubbles it’s way out of your throat. you’re laughing and then the hysterics shift and you’re sobbing. arms wrapped tightly around yourself you cry for what must be hours.

later, slumped against a tree trunk you decide to tackle your feet. one problem at a time, one shard at a time. you pluck pieces out of your skin and the blood makes you feel nauseous. when the job is done, you slide your socks back on, and walk towards the sound that comforts you most. Rushing water. you find a river, and kneel at its edge. you wash your socks, yourself, and dry on a stone in the sun. you scrub the dirt and grime from your feet. when your socks are mostly dry and the cuts have stopped gushing blood, you put on your shoes and lace them up. then you follow the river. you’ll reach town soon enough. your face isn’t marred, just the rest of you, all hidden beneath layers of clothes–a long sleeve, a flannel, blue jeans.

ideally, you’ll find danny.

you don’t live in an ideal world. the boy you find is not danny but he wants something you can give and has something you need–a place to sleep. you do so without clothes, lying next to him. What you did was in the dark, would stay that way, because before he woke, before you were made to converse with the nameless boy, you dressed and snuck out. the walk of shame was just that, shameful. you felt horrendous. your body still hurt and you found yourself walking into a cafe you knew haley, will’s wife worked at.

asking for handouts made your stomach sour but you couldn’t do much else.

haley was scrubbing down a table when you approached her. “hey, haley.”

“y/n, hey, how’s it going?” then she turned to you and realised, not good. that it was not going good. you shot her a flattened smile. “i really hate to ask. like, i really really do, but i haven’t eaten in a bit and was wondering–”

“yeah, yes. of course. just have a seat, i’ll grab you… do you have any dietary restrictions?” you answer her, and when she comes back, handing you a wrapped meal you thank her profusely. “is there anything you need done around here? i appreciate this so much, but i don’t want to take advantage. i can clean–i’m not a great cook but I can make coffee.”

“you don’t need to do anything. you aren’t taking advantage. not at all. is there anything else i can do for you? anyone i can call? your parents?”

fear fills your eyes and perceptive as ever, she catches it. “not them, please.” is what you whisper. haley nods, disappears behind the counter and makes a phone call. then, she dotes on you for the next ten minutes until wil pulls up outside. he comes in, walks over to your table and sits down across from you.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been caught. the ruse, it’s very much up.

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you shrug and sip at the hot chocolate haley made for you. “well, come on. you don’t have to say anything right now but let’s get you home.” you stand, ready to go anywhere but, and will stops you. “my parent’s home, danny’s. katherine knows you’re coming. come on, kid.”

you follow him to the car. most of the drive is silent, but you thank him when the walter’s house homes into view and katherine is waiting outside on the porch with a smile. up the few stairs, and you head straight for her. you’re grateful for her gentle nature, because as you throw your arms around her and squeeze, she simply rests hers on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “they–they kicked me out.”

she takes a minute to respond, only because she finds this hard to process. you were a good kid, a great one, and she, having so many of her own, couldn’t think of a single thing that would make her abandon or discard one of her own children. “you’ll stay with us then.” it isn’t a question and you’re glad because how would you have answered? your mouth is dry but your eyes aren’t.

you sit in danny’s room. he isn’t home from school yet but he will be soon. katherine and george are upstairs making room for you. you feel like a burden, they assure you that you are not.

you’re waiting for danny, only he isn't who makes it home first. it’s cole. he walks in, tosses his bag down onto the bed, none the wiser that there’s another person in the room. his back faces you and he’s rifling through a drawer when he hears you hiccup. he turns around quickly. Sees you, crying in his brother's bed and immediately his brows are furrowed. “y/n?” he walks closer. the bed is near to the ground so he drops onto his knees. he’s close to you know but he’s made himself less intimidating. “y/n/n? hey.”

“hi Cole.”

“are you okay?”

“i’ve been better.”

cole doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push. instead he opens his laptop, logs into his netflix and puts on the favourite show you both discussed watching together. when the two of you are settled. him on the floor, face resting on the mattress, where you’re curled up in a blanket that belongs to his brother, he breaks the silence. “do you want me to get danny?”

“where is he?”

“he’s with erin at the school. i think they’re going over details for the production. but i can go get him if you need him. do you need him?”

you shake your head. as danny’s best friend you were the biggest ‘derin’ shipper there was. plus, cole was here. he made things okay. “no, no thanks. i don’t really want you to go anywhere if that’s okay?”

“that’s more than okay, but i will say, my bed is comfier.”

you smile for the first time in a bit, looking at the uncomfortable position he has himself in. “yeah? well, we should definitely watch this, over there then.”

“my thoughts exactly.” cole grabs the laptop, grabs you, still wrapped in the blanket he tells himself he’ll replace from the linen closet, and carries both over to his bed. you squeal a bit and bite back a real whimper when his hand touches what you know has to be a massive bruise, sitting you down.

you fall asleep, leaning against him. he pauses the show, closes his laptop, and promises to resume it when you’re awake to watch it with him. then he sends a threatening text to his brother, danny.

COLE: Y/n/n has had a rough day and is sleeping in our room

COLE: Wake her up and you’ll get hit

DANNY: is she okay??? ALSO since when do you call her y/n/n???

COLE: I’ll see you later

COLE: Tell Erin hi for me

DANNY: fuck off

george and katherine didn’t receive that same threatening text but when they peeked into the room to check on you and found you cuddled up against cole, snoring lightly, and looking peaceful they left you be. your room was ready and in the morning you moved into it. your clothes were dirty and katherine washed them for you but in the meantime… well it was her dresses or… or what you went with.

you knocked your fist against the door and cole opened it, shirtless.

“hey cole,” look at his face. just his face. only his face.

“hey y/n. What can i help you with?”

your hand flew to the back of your neck which you rubbed awkwardly. “can i, uh… would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans and a belt?” cole chuckled, then realised you were completely serious. then he gave you the jeans. then the belt. “need a shirt too?”

you laughed, cheeks stained pink. “i wouldn’t mind…”

he handed you the plain black one in his hand. “riding with me to school?”

“if i’ve got shotgun.”

“‘course.” he said, grinning.

you headed upstairs and got changed. the pants were big but with the belt, and them cuffed they fit alright. then, came the shirt. it fell mid thigh but once you tucked it in a bit it didn’t look too terrible. you brushed your hair, your teeth, and headed downstairs. george looked at you with wide eyes and you shrugged, “i don’t really like dresses?”

katherine sighed. “we’ll get you some clothes after school.”

“from the thrift store!” you amended.

she rolled her eyes but agreed anyway. then, you were sitting beside cole on the way to school, during the one class you shared, and at lunchtime. you weren’t ditching danny, just his time was split between you and erin now. they started dating. they were sweet, good for and to, each other.

you’d only been living with the walters for two days, but everything was great. until cole invited you to the lake house. two coolers had you feeling buzzed and when it was your first turn, playing ‘truth or dare’, you picked truth and ended up faced with a question you didn’t want to answer. so you turned, and pressed your lips to cole’s. his lips parted in surprise, but then he kissed you back, tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. his hands flew to cup your face, your eyes were shut, and you were feeling things. until someone whistled and another yelled: “get a room!”

next round, you were three coolers in and ballsy enough to pick dare. “i dare you to jump into the lake!”

you rolled your eyes. like that was difficult. sure, it was a bit chilly, but you’d been in the river days ago. rushing water compared to water the sun had beat down on all day was nothing. you grinned, and ran to the edge of the dock, canon-balling and sending water flying everywhere. when you surfaced you saw the asshole who wore cole’s jersey shaking water out of his hair like a dog. you grinned, and started to swim back over when you saw something that caused you to sober up quickly. the foundation and powder you had painted on top of the hand shaped bruise on your arm had worn off. gone. It was gone and fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

when you didn’t get out of the water immediately cole was curious. when your face reflected horror, he was concerned.

“you good?” you weren’t. he walked over to the edge and dipped his hand in. the water was freezing. “come on out, you’ll get sick.”

you shook your head, plastering a clearly fake smile on your face. “my immune system is really strong and i want to swim! i’ll be fine cole, gonna go that way.” you make a gesture with your head and begin to paddle in that general direction. away from the lakehouse, away from the people, away from the party. away from cole—or, you tried to get away from cole. he walked on the bank, steps matching your strokes as he followed you. “get out of the water, y/n.” you were still swimming, and now cole was having to duck under and climb over branches and bushes to continue following. now, you couldn’t even hear the people at the lake house.

“no thank you.”

“don’t be stubborn. this was—it was funny thirty minutes ago! It’s lost the charm. just get out, we’ll go back and…”

“i don’t want to go back.”

“then we’ll go home. would that make you happy? we can leave, we don't have to go back to school, i can take you home.”

“i want to stay in the water, cole.”

“y/n, just get out of the fucking lake. it’s not that hard! i don’t understand why you won’t—“

you’re in waist deep water and all of you is submerged until it isn’t. you stand up quickly. teats sting your eyes and emotion clogs your throat. “you don’t understand, huh?” your voice breaks, shatters, and cracks. “does this help? do you see why when i say i want to keep swimming, i mean it? do you see why i want to stay in the water cole?”

he sees something. he sees bruises on your arms. deep purple handprints put there by too big hands and with too much force—force that never should have been used on you. he’s blinking, his eyes are seeing but his mind isn’t thinking, not fast enough.

“do you see?!” you’re shouting now, sobbing too. “because the makeup washed off and now you can see it. bow everyone can. everyone will see and then they’ll report it and i’ll end up in the system in an equally shitty situation! cole,” another wave of sobs interrupts, “cole don’t make me get out of the water.” he doesn’t, he climbs in with you. water soaks his boots, the bottoms of his jeans, you hear it slosh as he takes large steps and closes the distance between you both. “y/n/n.”

“what?” it’s a sob, a plea.

“we’re going to get out of the lake. i’m going to walk you through the woods, out to the road and then i’m going to go get my truck. i’ll be ten minutes tops. i’ll grab my hoodie too.”

“it’s… it’s back on the chair.”

“the red one, i know.”

“okay…”

cole keeps his word, but after five minutes you hear his truck. it stops, he hops out. he sets the hoodie on top of you and you shimmy into it. “No one will see, no one you don’t want to know, will know. but y/n, you will never go back there, okay? not to that house, not ever, because if you go, i’m following, and the things i do, most authorities will not agree with.”

“i don’t ever want to go back there.”

“you won’t ever have to.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me for helping you with something that never should’ve happened. we’ll get you some ice as soon as we’re home.” cole cranks the heat up and angles the fans to point your way.

he opens your door for you and walks closely behind you. no one else is home—katherine and george both working and the others at school. cole raids the freezer for anything remotely icey and heads up to your room. he makes a pit-stop to grab his laptop and some snacks from a drawer none of his brothers would ever know about. he steals the blanket you like off of danny’s bed too—the soft one with the blue plaid.

you both watch the show, he looks concerned when you press the frozen peas to your side too. you lift your shirt, show him the damage and he freezes. “ugly, huh?”

“nothing about you has ever been ugly, y/n/n but jesus, maybe we should go to a hospital.”

“flattery will get you everywhere cole but there’s no denying i looked like van gogh fucked up starry night—and no hospital. they’d like immediately call someone. plus i think they’re just bruised and not broken so that’s good.”

“i’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“oh don’t do that. i hate when people apologise for things that aren’t their fault.”

“can i apologise for danny, then? for him not realising what was happening sooner?” cole asked. people weren’t perfect, you realised that then, cole having said the first thing that genuinely upset you. this was no one’s fault. No one but your scum of the earth parent’s.

“no. danny didn’t do anything wrong. i didn’t want him to know and usually i’m good at hiding these things.” a bitter laugh, and: “usually.”

“i blame the alcohol, but, i guess it’s nice that you know.”

“i’m glad i know.”

and he is. he carries your bag, your books, even goes thrifting with you and katherine. “i like this one,” he’d said, holding up a shirt that barely had any fabric to it. you rolled your eyes for the fiftieth time and picked out a baggy graphic tee shirt instead.

at school he walks you to and from your classes. he sits with you at lunch and helps you come up with excuses—none so awesome that they work without the grin and charm he lays on your pe teacher.

weeks later, your bruises were healed, and to the blind eye, the only indication you’d been abused was the occasional flinching. cole tended to call out his moves before he made them, especially if you weren’t sure exactly where he was. your arguments–few and far between, seriously, the only thing you’d argued about so far was where you went for lunch, were had with calm voices and distance between the two of you. cole was perfect. he never caught you off guard, he was just always there.

wouls see you getting anxious and move closer. “i’m going to hold your hand,” he’d whisper. when you needed someone to talk to it was always him because he was always there.

then, one night, the two of you were sitting on that same blue plaid blanket. the one you loved–the one cole had paid danny $40 for. you were both staring up at the same stars, both wondering the same thing: when had you become so close? you weren’t sure if there was a turning point, a particular defining moment, but cole had taken danny’s place in your heart as ‘best friend’. cole had done that and more. he was more to you than that. he baked your favourite pastry, would go just about anywhere with you, and he made you smile. he made you feel safe. he had told no one your secret–but katherine and george had a clue, enough of one that they welcomed you with open arms and seldomly raised their voices. enough of one, that for that first few weeks, the ice was always restocked in the freezer.

they had an idea.

but cole knew. knew everything. knew and made you feel okay in spite of everything. he knew and still.. still looked at you like… like that. cole, he leaned in closer. you waited and listened. “i’m going to kiss you. because i want to. because i love you how you deserve to be loved. and not because of some truth or dare game.

“it wasn’t bad though, right? because i thought it was a pretty good ki–”

cole walter kept his word. he kissed you, and sure, the kiss at the lake house was good. this one was just better.

[randomshyperson]

Easy Spider - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Spider-Reader returns from the classic mission of stopping a moving train. Her girlfriend is not very happy to know the reason for the injuries. | Prompts Challenges.

Warnings: Some make out, but pure fluff with really brief arguing, trauma mentions, established relationship. | Words: 1.288k

A/N-> Me, forgetting to post? Don't know what you're talking about. Surprisingly, this one was ready before the second Spider-Verse was released. I haven't been able to see the movie yet, but I'd like to write more about Spider!Reader in the future. If you have any ideas/requests, please share.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

–//–

Not that Wanda was counting, but you had been away for twelve hours, thirty minutes, and sixteen seconds.

Seventeen.

The opening of the automatic door to the living room of the Avengers Tower took her complete attention away from the clock, and Wanda ignored Natasha's teasing chuckle from the opposite armchair when the younger brunette so ungraciously tossed the book she had been pretending to read for the last few minutes and practically ran out into the arriving group.

You gasped in surprise at the sudden tight embrace, and then in pain from the squeeze.

Wanda released you in the exact second, full concern in her expression.

"What's wrong?"

You chuckled weakly, one hand steadying itself on her waist. "Nothing so bad." You reply but Wanda's expression makes you sigh. "I stopped a train-"

She gasps. "A Moving one?" she blurts and doesn't wait for you to complete, already turning in the direction of Steve Rogers, equally exhausted but not at all injured. "You said it was a stakeout mission!"

The captain held up his hands in surrender to the other's menacing posture. Sam chuckled at the scene, fleeing to the kitchen before Wanda threatened him as well.

"It was! But it got out of hand and Y/N wasn't going to let the train fall off! There were civilians-"

"Dude, you're not supposed to rat me out." It was your turn to cut the captain off, giving him a slap on the chest. Wanda crossed her arms, and you sighed in defeat.

"Babe, I'm all right." You tried to ease the tension. "'That's all that matters, right?" but she just locked her jaw and stormed off, and you turned to the captain beside you. "Thanks for that, Rogers." You retorted wryly. Steve shrugged.

"Don't blame me, spider." He retorted and you rolled your eyes before following Wanda into the bedroom.

You thought Wanda was giving you the silent treatment because she refused to give any reactions to your apologies. But after you got out of the shower, and returned to the room you two shared, she was on the bed with a first aid kit waiting for you.

"Hm, thanks for this." You mumbled awkwardly, moving closer to where she was sitting. Wanda merely hums grudgingly, and you sighed before getting in front of her. "There's nothing so bruised. I know it doesn't look like it but I'm pretty strong." You try to joke, but Wanda stares you in the eye seriously.

"You said you were going to be careful."

"I was!" You assure her. "But there were people, Wands. I've stopped cars before, a train shouldn't be that hard. And Steve and Sam were there and -"

"Sam is human, Y/N." She interrupts impatiently. "And Steve is strong, but not that much. You could have been hurt, in fact, you were hurt."

"I'm fine-" But to prove a point, Wanda nudged you in the ribs and you pulled away with a grunt of pain. She raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. "Low blow, Maximoff."

"You know I'm technically your superior on the team, right? I can take you out of field missions." She mutters, and it's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, are you threatening me now, baby?"

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. "Let's see how you do, Spider Woman." She teased, raising an alcohol-soaked cotton pad to the height of your face to tend to the superficial cuts. But you brought your faces closer together, and Wanda swallowed dryly. "Do I at least get a welcome kiss?"

"Not that you're really deserving one..." She whispers but ends up losing her train of thought when your lips meet. Yeah, Wanda missed that. 

And the best part is that you don't hold back. Injured or not, the medical kit ends up on the floor as your body moves over hers, pressing her against the bed as you exchange an intense, longing kiss. 

Wanda lets her hands slide into your shirt, the smell of freshly showered intoxicating her senses. She claws at your back, smiling as she feels you grunt against her lips. Your thigh firms up between her legs, and Wanda slides her tongue into yours, increasing the intensity of the make-out session. 

She wanted to be angry with you for your reckless behavior, but it was very hard to remember that when she was under you.

Your knee pressed against her with some purpose and Wanda clenched tightly at your sides, intending to have something to hold onto so she could rub herself against you, but the gesture made you break the kiss in a gasp of pain, completely breaking the mood.

"Mm-shit, I'm sorry. It was just-"

"Take off your shirt." Wanda didn't even let you finish, pushed you sitting up again as scarlet threads pulled the item out at once. You, breathless and embarrassed, averted her gaze over the number of purple marks. 

"It looks worse than it is."

Wanda didn't say anything at the first moment, just looked at you with irritation. Magic did the work of restoring the medical kit that went to the floor, pressing wet cotton swabs of alcohol, and spraying analgesics over your bruises. When she was satisfied with the result, Wanda stood up as you’re putting back your shirt.

"I'll let Steve know that you are suspended from field duty." She declared, ignoring your protests. 

"You can't do that, it's not fair!" You retorted indignantly, following her as she left to return the kit to the bathroom, which was clearly an excuse to escape the conversation since magic could do the job. "I was the spider for years before the Avengers, I have more experience as a hero than anyone here aside from Natasha. Titles are a formality! I was saving lives-"

"I can’t lose you too!" She exploded, and you shut up with a sigh. Wanda sniffled, looking down at the floor, "You're too important. And I can't go through this again. If you're going to keep risking yourself like this just... let me go first." She declares, to which you frown. Wanda closes her eyes, sighing. "At least give me time to learn not to care about you."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You retorted incredulously. "You want to break up with me over this? My-our, job?"

She hugged her own body. "That's not what I said." She retorted, upset. "I just don't want to be with someone who won't be careful. I don't want you to be in danger, and I don't want to lose you. I spent the whole last day worrying about whether you'd come back, and that got me thinking of what kind of life we'd have when we were married, you know? You will keep going around town and I will stay at home with the kids, without having any idea if you will come back or not?" Wanda continued babbling, but all your irritation was completely dissipated with one word. She fell silent when she realized that you hadn't tried to say anything else and were looking at her with a silly smile. "What?"

"You think about marrying me."

Wanda opened her mouth, once and twice, but nothing came out. She felt her face grow warm, becoming even more embarrassed under your intense gaze. "Well, yeah. That's an idea." She manages to mumble, but you chuckle lightly, nodding.

"Okay, I'll take that suspension." You retort putting your hands in your pajama pockets. Wanda raises an eyebrow, but you just smile. "It'll give me more free time, you know? To find the perfect engagement ring."

"W-what?" but you were already leaving the room, muttering something about announcing the news to the rest of the team with Wanda running after you.

[homiesexuallaj]

Hey could you please write something where Eric Draven(2024) is best friends with the reader and gets hurt while trying to confront the people who killed Shelley. His healing stops so he goes to his best friend for help and starts crying about everything...

A hurt/comfort basically. Please keep it PLATONIC. Thank you 💜

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Genre/Warnings: reader is best friends with Eric, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, blood, injury, stab/knife wounds, bullet holes, needles, stitching of wounds, pain mention, Eric whimpers, Eric gets a little sad and guilty about Shelly, kinda proofread

--- --- ---

It's about half past 3am when a heavy, slightly frantic knocking was heard from the front door of your apartment. You got up, feeling lethargic and off-balance. You yanked an oversized t-shirt from your laundry pile and shucked it over your sleep tank top as you made your way to the doorway. As you approached your front door you had an urge to check out the peephole but decided to open the door without caution.

"Oh thank god," A voice wheezed out.

Heavy boots fell forward and knocked into you, smearing something wet against your arm as they grabbed it.

The first emotion that popped up was disgust and then horror as you backed away and looked at the figure that had stumbled their way into your apartment.

It was Eric Draven. A long-time friend of yours. He was hunched over and bloody. A long, black trenchcoat hung from Eric's shoulders and he lacked a shirt, showing stab wounds and bullet holes, those of which you didn't know whether or not lack bullets. Wounds tore through his tattoos and you couldn't help what Eric was up to since he'd been in rehab, as your two's connection had faltered slightly over the years.

"Eric!" You gasped. "What the hell?!"

In a flurry of movements, you slammed your front door closed and locked both your doorlock and the deadbolt. You moved under Eric's arm and practically dragged his heavy body to your bathroom, leaving bloody footprints behind. It was hard, due to Eric's taller stature and the fact he was barely holding himself up. Soon enough, you plopped the tall man on your toilet seat and leaned down to dig through your lower sink cabinet for your first aid kit. Upon standing back up and facing your friend you could see that he had shed his trenchcoat and was clenching at his side, blood pouring from between his fingers.

From the cabinet behind you and diagonally across from Eric, you grabbed a wash cloth. You wet it and got to work wiping down the injured man, he tensed and whimpered as the rough cloth touched the edges of wounds.

"Eric, what the hell?" You scolded out of mostly concern. "You go to rehab to get better and then you show up at my door all bloody and shit. Like, what happened?!"

" 'm sorry," Eric gave a small cry as you wiped blood away from a particularly large stab wound. "I just. I met a girl and we got out."

"And then what? Decided to go and get yourself killed??" You asked, looking up at Eric.

He avoided eye contact.

"I loved her," Eric mumbled somberly. "And she's dead now."

You raised your eyebrows, urging him to further explain.

"She's dead. It's my fault. I couldn't protect her," Eric seemed to be avoiding giving you details. "I went after the people that killed her and now.."

Eric trailed off and you sighed.

You couldn't believe Eric escaped from rehab and blamed himself for the death of a girl he barely knew. Obviously, the girl was apart of something if someone came after her after they found out she escaped from rehab. You couldn't believe Eric got himself into the middle of that. You were disappointed in him, but happy that he found someone to passionately love, even if that love ended in turmoil.

You threw the cloth into your sink and fished out another from your cabinet. You soaked the new washrag in rubbing alcohol. You dug through your first aid kit for a stitching needle. Once found, you got your stitching thread through the eye and situated. You wiped down the needle with the alcohol-soaked rag.

You looked up at Eric again, "Do you know if you still have bullets in the holes?"

Eric shook his head, "No. They fell out."

"Fell out?" You asked, bewildered.

Eric nodded, wincing at the movement.

You couldn't wrap your head around the possibility of bullets just falling out of wounds. You shook your head, willing away confused and distracted thoughts.

"I have to stitch you up now," You warned your friend.

Eric nodded and gripped onto his pant leg to prepare for the pain.

With slow, precise movements, you dug the surgical needle into Eric's skin. Eric whimpered as you sewed up the knife wound at his side. You decided to start with the worst first and slowly made your way around Eric's abdomen. The bathroom was silent beside Eric's pained whimpers and cries. You felt sorry for him but stitching up your friend was necessary or else he'd bleed out on the tile floor.

Before long you were done. Eric looked pained, pale, and sweaty. He heaved out a breath, releasing his iron grip on his black jeans.

You cleaned up silently. You wrapped up the needle you used and filling the bathroom sink with steaming hot water to soak the ruined washrags in. You stood and fiddled your fingers in front of Eric, thinking of things to say.

"I can..," You trailed off before speaking again. "I can soak your jacket in the tub, if you'd like."

Eric hesitated.

"I'll have it clean by late morning tomorrow," You promised.

"Okay," Eric accepted.

You turned your tub's water, testing it until it matched your body temperature. You plugged the drain and watched the tub fill. You waited until the water was about halfway up the side before submerging the bloody trenchcoat into the water. You let the water fill up a bit more before cutting the water off. You pressed the jacket down more, making sure every part was under the water.

"Thank you," Eric said, watching you as you walked around him and dried your hands on a hand rag, leaving behind a light red stain.

"You're welcome," You replied. "Now, let's get you to bed."

You helped Eric up, urging him to be slow. You helped him hobble to your bed. You helped him lay down, propping up a pillow behind his head and covering him with your blankets. You turned to leave but a hand grabbed your own.

"Are you going to stay with me?" Eric asked, his eyes watery.

"Yes," You nodded. "I'll stay with you. But I'll be right back. I'm getting you something to drink."

Eric nodded and let your hand go.

After a few heartbeats, you came back into your bedroom with a blue raspberry pedialyte with a bendy straw in it. You held it up to Eric's mouth urging him to drink before putting it down on the nightstand. You turned off the lamp on the nightstand, the only light in the room. You crawled up the bed to occupy the other side against your bedroom wall.

Just as you got comfortable, you felt a hand grab your own. It was cold.

"Thank you," Eric mumbled, already sounding half asleep.

"Goodnight Eric," You replied, urging him to sleep.

Eric was silent for a moment, "Goodnight."

--- --- ---

A/N: Requests for Mr. Draven are still open! If you have any ideas that you'd like for me to write then go ahead and drop them in my askboz!!

[stardustmf444]

bruises | matt sturniolo

tw: bl00d, Matt x fem!reader, and swearing

summary: Riley is always cleans up Matt's bruises and wounds after his games (and fights).

a.n: this is my first published writing! please be nice lol, but constructive criticism is appreciated 🫶

The football game had ended. Highlanders won 46 to 34. Riley smiled as she saw number 4 and number 3 get in line with their team. Both teams were giving their end of game handshakes, until number 4, Matt, got to number 12 on the opposing team.

It was sudden. Matt threw his helmet on the ground and tackled 12. Riley and Nick were in shock. Her eyes were wide.

"What the fuck is he doing!?" Nick shouted, not directly at anyone. Him and Riley were making their way off the bleachers.

Matt pounded his fist into the kids face. Chris was trying to pull him back. 12 punched back, but Matt's throws were more angry. His hair was in his face and sweat was dripping past his eyebrows. The refs pulled Matt off of the kid. He was bleeding but not as bad as the other guy.

"What the fuck Matt!?" Chris yelled at him. Nick made it to the field.

"You are so fucking lucky mom isn't here, she would be so disappointed." Nick scolded.

Matt rolled his eyes. Grabbing his helmet off the field, he started walking towards the lockers. Riley tried to stop him, but he kept walking.

She followed him into the locker room. "Matt?" No response, "Matt." He's ignoring her. "Matthew." He took a deep breath and turned around. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were low. His hair was sticking to his forehead. Blood and sweat mixed on his upper lip. She walked closer to him, slowly, scared she was gonna set him off again.

"What happened?" She looked in his eyes. He stared back blankly.

"He just had a punch-able face." His voice was deep and horse. She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, don't tell me, I don't care." She sat down as he continued to take off his gear.

He took his jersey off , then his shoulder pads. He took another deep breath. Riley looked up, she knew he was hurting, but she didn't realise it was this bad. He had bruises all over his shoulders and ribs. She stood up, reaching for his bruises. He winced at her touch, but eased into it.

"You need to stop getting into fights, Matt. This isn't healthy." Her hand rubbing soothingly on his bruises, careful not to press to hard. He knew it wasn't healthy, but the fights always ended up with her helping him clean and wrap his wounds. He didn't know how to get her to touch him any other way.

She stopped suddenly, which made Matt groan. She always knew how to make the pain go away for a little bit. She turned around and rummaged around for a first aid kit. She came back with the little box in hand. He smiled softly at her. Riley always made sure he was okay. Even when she was mad at him.

She took the ice pack and gently placed it onto his skin. His breath hitched at the feeling.

"Sorry." She looked at him with concern in her eyes. He stared into her eyes with nothing but love. She looked away feeling her face get hot. Her breathing got slower and heavier. She continued to focus on icing his shoulders and ribcage.

Once she finished, Matt sat down on the bench. She went back to the first aid kit and grabbed a sterile wipe. She turned back to Matt, who looked up at her with doe eyes. She grabbed his chin, ignoring the feeling in her stomach. His nose wrinkled at the feeling of the wipe.

"Stop." She stated while wiping off the blood from his lip. She set the wipe on the bench. Grabbing his chin again, she turned his face, making sure she got all the blood off his face.

His eyes connected with hers. She licked her lips. It felt like everything stopped. Matt grabbed her waist and pulled her in. Her breath got caught in her throat.

"Matt," she whispered. He looked at her lips, wanting nothing more to do than feel them against his. She felt hot all over. He smiled while looking back into her eyes. One of his hands gripped her waist, while the other trailed up her back to her jaw. He pulled her closer. his lips ghosting over hers.

"Can I kiss you, Riley?" He asked gently. Her eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, while she nodded. He leaned in pressing his lips against hers, finally. He snuck his hand to her hair and pulling her even closer.

She almost fell with his sudden movements. Laughing softly she smiled into another kiss. He smiled back. After a few minutes the broke the kiss. Breathing heavy and kiss-drunk smiles.

She pushed off of him, grabbing the bloody wipe off the bench and the first aid kit.

"I like it when you take care of me." Matt said to her back. She turned her head to him.

"I know, Matt." She smiled softly, turning back around to put the kit away. "See you later Matt." She walked out of the locker rooms with a smile as large as the ocean.

He was left on the bench dumbfounded. Of course she knew he liked it when she took care of him, she's not oblivious. Matt, on the other hand, might be.

a.n: um I don't know how to feel lmao. I'm really tired tho. it's 1:45 am when I finished this 🫶 hope you guys like this!

[bethelighthalazia]

Stunt gone wrong

Summary:  Yeonjun´s girlfriend y/n helps out as a stunt double, but the stunt goes wrong and she ends up with a semi-serious injury. 

Genre: angst, fluff(?)

Pairing: bf!Yeonjun x fem!reader

Word Count:  889

Warnings: Injuries, mentions of blood, hospital 

[notice: it´s my first time writing for TXT and my brain was somewhat foggy and didn't want to cooperate properly, but I still hope you all will like it!]

Y/n was asked to jump in as Beomgyu´s stunt double for his fall off the bike in the MV for Loser=Lover. She didn't mind, after all, it's not that hard to safely fall from a moving bike. Yeonjun didn't really like it, but he didn't stop her, he's supportive of his girlfriend and her hobby, which turned into a part time job for TXT and sometimes for their big brothers BTS. Being a background dancer, who also has experience in being a stunt double, y/n often helps out when they need someone and her looking similar to Beomgyu at this time, she was perfect for this stunt.

However, this day felt off somehow. The bike was wobbly underneath her, but y/n didn't mention it, she didn't want the shooting to be delayed because of her. So, she gritted her teeth and thankfully, the first shoot made it into the video. When she fell, her head hit the street where they were filming a bit harder than anticipated, but y/n shrugged it off, so no one really paid attention to her through the rest of the shooting.

That is, until Yeonjun noticed his girlfriend being quite pale and just sitting leaned against one of the equipment boxes. In one of his breaks, he walked over with a concerned look on his face, crouching down next to her.

“Hey, y/nnie, you okay?” He asks quietly, head tilted just a bit as he tried to check her for any signs of injuries or anything, but he couldn't make out anything, since her head was lowered and the hood of her sweater was up.

“Yeah, it's just a scratch, don't worry Yeonjun,” she whispered, but winced lightly when she moved her head. This didn't go unnoticed by Yeonjun and when he reached out to cup her cheek gently, he froze in place. Her cheek felt slightly scraped and there was something wet and warm.

Carefully, he removed her hood and a gasp escaped him. She was bleeding, along the side of her face, her skin was scraped open and her temple seemed to have hit the asphalt a little too hard.

“Shit, fuck. Y/n, this is not just a scratch!” He hissed out, head poking up to look around and when he spotted Soobin close by, he yelled for his friend. “Soobin! Get me that first aid kit and call an ambulance, right now!”

Soobin did as told and he did it quickly, running over to where Yeonjun and y/n were positioned, his jaw dropping when he saw her face. “Shit- here, Beomgyu is calling the ambulance now. Can I do anything else?”

“I don't kn- hey, hey y/nnie, baby, stay with me-” Yeonjun’s voice got panicky when he noticed y/n drifting off and tilting aside, his eyes widened in panic. Soobin quickly reacted and sat down next to her to steady her against himself while Yeonjun talked to her.

“Hey, remember what you told me earlier, y/nnie? You wanna tell Soobin too?” He asked, fumbling with the first aid kid, his hands trembling in panic. Soobin took the pack from Yeonjun and opened it, hoping that the ambulance would arrive quickly. Beomgyu soon came over too, carrying a bottle of water. “Here. How's she doing?” He asked quietly while Yeonjun applied a bandage around her head to stop the bleeding a bit at least. 

“Yeo-…’m so sleepy…” Y/n’s voice was mostly a slurred whisper, Yeonjun looking helplessly at his girlfriend and then at his two friends. Even though he's the oldest of them, he doesn't know what to do right now. 

“You can sleep in a bit, okay? Tell me something, y/n. How did you like our outfits today?” It was Soobin’s voice, calm and soothing. He knew that she'd have to stay awake and with a nod towards their oldest, he gestured Beomgyu to help Yeonjun to wash his hand and calm down. “Hmm…like Yeonjun more in…his soft warm sweaters…” she whispered, smiling, but then her head dropped against Soobin's shoulder and he could hear a quiet snore. “No, no you can't sleep, Y/n, c'mon.” 

Alerted by those words, Yeonjun spun around to look at his friend and his girlfriend, panicking, his breath hitched in his throat. He just wanted to hurry over, but then Kai already came running, followed by a medic and soon the ambulance stopped right where they were.

Y/n was rushed to the hospital and the five boys followed, neither was allowed to sit in the ambulance with her. It took almost two hours of waiting in the ER, Yeonjun pacing around in the waiting area of the hospital while Soobin tried to calm his hyung.

“She's in room 319, it's on the third floor. Don't worry, she'll be fine, it was nothing life threatening, just a concussion.” The doctor said when he came out as he was stopped by Beomgyu. Kai couldn't hold back a little chuckle when he heard the room number, but soon followed his hyungs to the room. All of them were relieved, when they saw y/n sitting in the hospital bed, smiling at her favorite boys. Yeonjun didn't hold back and ran over, carefully kissing her with a teary laugh, he had been so horribly worried.

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

[k1ckback]

HEY THIS IS KIND OF SPECIFIC BUT CAN YOU DO THE GANGS REACTION TO A READER WHO IS USUALLY SERIOUS AND DOESNT EXPRESS MUCH, BUT THEN KINDA BREAKS DOWN AND STARTS VIOLENTLY SOBBING IN FRONT OF THEM?? THANK YOU HEHEEHE

OHOHO I can. keep it coming with requests anon, because hyper specific stuff is my favorite to write tbh

Went with Reagan, Brett, Ron and Andre for this! (Sorry JR fans i’m saving him for special occasion) 

Reagan 

- her first reaction is shock, she hesitates to touch you at first, wanting to make sure she doesn’t overwhelm you.  - she has.. a confusing time with people’s emotions, but it’s you. “Hey.. what’s wrong?” 

- she’d take your hand in hers, rubbing the back of it mindfully. modeling breathing techniques they sprung on her in anonymous anonymous.  - cooing the only words of comfort she can think of, all of her thoughts cease when you wrapped your arms around her. she froze for a few seconds, before returning it.  - she’s always struggled with repressing her own emotions, but this had been a long-time coming. she pondered how you’d managed this long without any outburst. she rubbed your back haphazardly, and listened to you with shaky breaths try to explain the source of this.  - “I’m glad you told me” was her first response, “I know it feels like it sometimes, but you don’t have to handle this by yourself. promise.”

- the type to let you vent to her and than will take you out to get food, because talking about emotions is exhausting  - expect her to be a little more vigilant when it comes to your emotions though. 

Brett

- his first instinct is to smother you, “what’s wrong love? did something happen? can I hug you?” all of his concern poured out into his words, waiting for you to give something of a nod before wrapping his arms around you  - if you need a minute to cry it out, he’s all for it. expect him to rub your back and just listen. 

- he might cry a bit himself, (he’s on the higher empathy side of autism I don’t make the rules, me too brett)  - that being said, anything you got going on? he’s in it with you. if this is caused by a certain person? expect him to have some stern words for them, if it’s at a situation? he won’t stop until he can help you figure it out. 

- he usually keeps a panic attack kit on him at work, so he won’t hesitate to get you a fidget if needed. he understands how hard it can be to come down from sobbing like that. when you’ve calmed down to a certain point, he takes your hand in his. 

- “I want you to know i’m happy you shared this, and I care about you. I promise we’ll figure this out together okay?” every bit of his reassurance seems to be nothing but believable. 

- if the two of you are at home when this happens? expect to be cuddled and practically worshipped until you feel better.. if you’re at work, he’s taking you to his office to wait out the anxiety-attack hangover.

Ron - “honey, ” his hands find your face quickly. wiping your tears with his thumbs.  “hey, what’s going on?” he waits for you to find the words. a patient frown dawning his lips.  - straight to reassurance. “everything’s gonna be alright, I promise”     - he’s not happy that this is happening, but he is a little relieved that he’s finally seen you showing some of your emotions, he just worries you don’t feel comfortable around him sometimes. (Despite this obviously not being true)

- “I’m here to listen.” he reassures. as the initial tears and your breathing start to slow, he’ll start to listen to the situation, and throughout it expect him to be nodding all the way. he just wants to make sure you know he’s listening. - and really, he is. if you need help trying to fix a problem? this guys there, if you just need to talk for a little bit, he’s always up to listen. he just wants to see you happy. - that being said, he’s happy the two of you could talk at this level. there’s something of a bond that comes from it.

- expect him to start checking up on you more, especially just asking if you need to rant to anyone. coworker problems? parking ticket? ranting family member? he’s practically heard it all.

- he’d ask you to go watch movies after this, I don’t make the rules. he might even take the day off for it.

Andre

- he might immediately worry he did something wrong, but when he figures out this is an entirely different problem, he’s doing everything he can to help you calm down (he’s definitely had his own panic attacks before though, so he already has a few ideas in mind)

- he reaches for a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a soft sigh. “I’ve got you. I promise.” He hums out, letting you sob into his shoulder.

- the crying doesn’t last very long, and within a couple minutes, your breath’s feel somewhat full again. your hands though continue to shake in Andre’s grasp, and he doesn’t let up on tracing your palm.

- after a bit of talking, mostly andre listening (with the occasional verbal profanity at the absurd-mess of a situation) he starts to understand your apprehension to leave that facade you put on for work. he definitely knew someone was under there, but he realized this might be his first time meeting them.

- he’s generally the most down to earth out of the group when it comes to mental health stuff. he has nowhere to judge. so by all means, if his partners having trouble with it? he’s all ears. sometimes having someone to just listen to you can go a long way. he really cares about you, and he knows you’d do it for him.

- “we’ll figure this out; we won’t stop until it’s fixed.” His hand squeezed yours; and his eyes finally met yours: anything about his expression could’ve easily convinced you of his intentions.

[pablitogavii]

Heeyy, i've been obsessed with your writing for a week now and i can't stop reading it. So can you write about Gavi dating a very clumsy reader? Where she's always bumping into something or even tripped over her own feet. And one day when they were cooking together, the reader accidentally tripped and hit a hot frying pan or anything that hurt herself because of it?? This just happened to me yesterday lol and the rest is up to you but i prefer a lot of flufff 🤩 Thankyouu and ily!

Ever since you were a little girl, your parents would call you 'clumsy' since you would always be the one to fall from the slides in the park, or slip on a wet floor but even as you grew up, your clumsiness grew with you so much that your boyfriend now uses the same nickname.

One time, Pablo even got concerned about some bruises on your hips that were the result from hitting the edge of the table one too many times over the week.

"Don't worry, Pablito. I'm used to it" you reassured him but he shook his head massaging some cream onto your bruises looking at them sadly.

"Please, be more careful amor..only bruises I want to see on this body are my hickeys..that's it" he said and you blushed bright red looking at him while he was very focused on gently massaging the area on your hip.

Tonight, some friends are coming over to our apartment and you are making dinner in the kitchen while Pablo is fixing up the table in the dinning room.

"Arrg!" Pablo heard rushing into the kitchen seeing your bloody red burn on your hand and his eyes opened wide while he rushed to your side.

"Amor! Put it under cold water! Easy now!" he said helping you while tears escaped your eyelids since this time it was very painful. Stupid pan!

"I'm sorry..I tripped..uhh" you said through tears feeling bad for continuously making Pablo worried but he gave you a gentle smile and a kiss on your forehead.

"Shh I'm going to fix you up and you will be like new..come here my clumsy baby" he said and you both went to the bathroom where he kept his first aid kit.

"Sit down amor and give me your hand." he said and you did as asked sitting on the bed while he kneeled in front of you taking your hand gently and applying some cleaning anesthetic on it.

"Ouch! Ouch!" you whined and he sushed you saying it will stop hurting very soon and to stay brave for him which you tried very hard but you were always a cry baby whenever you get hurt.

"Alright, let's apply some of this cream and then I'll add some cause so you don't touch it until it heals..okay princesa?" Pablo said looking up and pouting when he saw that you were crying. His fingers dried your tears and he left a sweet kiss on your lips before fixing up your hand.

"Come on amor, no more tears mi nena hermosa. This will heal in a few days, I promise" Pablo said after finishing with the gauze leaving a soft kiss on top of it and you gave him a weak smile snuffling a little.

"Why do I have to be so clumsy??" you said and he sat besides you pulling you into his arms careful not to touch your hurt hand and kissing the top of your head lovingly.

"Aw nena, I don't know..but you have your Pablito to patch you up whenever you get hurt..It's okay" he said and you smiled nodding your head and kissing the side of his neck in response.

"We should go back to the kitchen and finish dinner.." you remind him a few minutes scared that the moment you get up, you will get hurt again and be right back here.

"From now on, I will be your human shield..come on princesa" it was like he knew exactly what you were thinking, getting up slowly and holding your hand making sure you don't hit anything on your way to the kitchen.

"Thank you Pablo" you smiled and he kissed your lips hitting the stove playfully and cursing it for 'hurting his princesa' which made you giggle and return to fixing up the rest of the dinner.

A few hours when your friends arrived with their girlfriends, everyone asked about your injury which made you a little self conscious feeling stupid for being so clumsy.

"Our stove was bad and hurt mi princesa because it was jealous how much I love her.." Pablo said realizing how stupid that sounded making everyone including you laugh and kiss his lips sweetly.

"I love you so much Pablo.." you whisper to him seeing his cheeks turn pink slightly in embarrassment but he pecked your lips while nodding his head.

"Yo te amo tambien princesa" he said into the kiss leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before you both returned to eating the delicious meal and enjoying time with your friends.

It's not that long, but hope you enjoy :)

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by: @thesingularityseries and @cassietrn thank you both!!

tagging: @roofgeese @henbased @cloudofbutterflies92 @aceghosts @galaxycunt @ocdemon-747 @unholymilf @wrathfulrook @amalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @mxanigel @finding-comfort-in-rain @carlosoliveiraa @trench-rot @nightbloodbix @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @clicheantagonist @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @statichvm @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @simplegenius042 @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @direwombat @florbelles @cassieuncaged @shallow-gravy @strangefable @stacispratt

Still Wednesday for me and chapter 52 of American Beasts has been kicking my ass, struggling with writing Kit coming to terms with her being in love. It's hard to write a deranged individual having an emotional epiphany. Anyways...here's the first bit of the chapter:

Hours of surgery, flayed flesh and sutures. Heart rate crashing, blood pressure falling. The bullet removed from tissue, dropped into the tray with a metallic clang. Tools dripping with blood. Iodine and alcohol perfuming the air. He was finally stable and she was still on her feet. A tube shoved into his chest, the air pumped out of the cavity for him by a machine. Kit couldn’t help but scoff at the irony of the situation, a man who had only ever spoken of how medicine and technology made mankind weaker, and here he was being kept alive by the very thing he spoke of hating. She was sure he would hold it against her for denying his words, but she didn’t much care, he could stay angry with her. She got what she wanted, denying him his need for sacrifice once more. He could bear it, just like she could bear the brunt of his rage. Some sacrifices were well worth making. 

Kit stood by the side of Jacob’s medical bed, staring down at him, watching his chest rise and fall like she had done a dozen times before. The way she always had when they were in bed together. Her comfort. Her home. Her will was done. The bruises on his chest and around the lung he nearly lost acted as a reminder of her own wounds that still needed to be treated, but still she watched. The same concerned gaze of a mother with her newborn and that fear that if she turned away his breath would falter and he would be lost to her forever. 

Morrison entered the room and her pale eyes lifted for just a moment before falling right back to the Herald. He stood there silently, unsure of how to break the bind she had placed upon herself to stand at the Herald’s side. Clearing his throat, he drew closer to the bed and rubbed at his stubble on his jaw. “Now that he’s stable, think I might be allowed to take a look at you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Didn’t sound that way when he made his way out to come get you.”

Sighing as she placed her hand on Jacob’s arm, her fingers traced small circles along his broken skin, over every rough patch of inflamed flesh and raised bump of scar tissue, ingraining it in her memory. She had come so very close to losing him, to being alone again…that was the scariest thought of all. 

“It’s my obligation to look after you.” His eyes fell to his patient. “He wouldn’t be too happy knowing I didn’t take care of you. He’s not going anywhere, I promise, sister.”

She took a deep breath and stepped back towards the other bed, feeling as though she was dragging a ball and chain with her, breaking some sort of duty she had to uphold as Jacob’s watchful guardian. Taking a seat on the bed, she kept her eyes focused on the other redhead in the room, not making any movement to help the medic and his desire to fix her. 

“You mind taking off the coat and sweater?”

Rolling her eyes, she stripped off her coat and laid it on the bed beside her, the inner lining of it stained with dried blood. Her sweater below was just as tainted with the remnants of her seeping wound and the sweat that poured from her, a hole ripped through the fibers allowing the white of her bandage to show through. Grunting and groaning as she rolled the sweater up her body, careful with her movements so as not to reopen her wound in her chest as she pulled it over her head. 

Morrison stopped and stared at her as her sweater came off, her chest bruised in shades of indigo, dappled in blue and purple and green. His mouth sat agape as he brought his hand to his brow to rub at it absent-mindedly as she peeled back the thick bandage she had used to cover the wound.  “I don’t know how the hell you keep managing to live,” he muttered in disbelief. “You got one hell of a guardian angel.”

Kit sighed, looking down at the loosely stitched hole in her chest, more poorly darned than a pair of old socks, the skin very clearly inflamed and angry around it.  Gripping at the thin mattress of the medical bed, she mumbled her words out towards the floor, “You have no idea.”

His eyes lifted from her wound to gaze back into hers, into the cold and empty stare as he brought the tray of tools closer to himself. “You know, I listen to the Father’s sermons sometimes, the ones about you, he says that God sent you to us. That you were a sign of the end, but also of the beginning. Judgement and divine wrath and all that.”

She huffed out a laugh, “I don’t know how divine all my wrath has been to be quite honest.”

“Whatever the case may be, something is looking out for you, and they are working overtime. If the sinners can’t see that, well, maybe they don’t deserve to be saved.” He paused and looked at her as he snipped open the sutures she had sewn in earlier. “You know for the first time in a long time since I joined the family, I understand. I believe again. Joseph is our prophet, he hears the lord, Jacob is like the mighty sword of Michael, and John is well…he's John. But you, you just can't be stopped, you keep fighting. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve been shot, stabbed, starved…You just might be a sign from God that there is a plan for us after all.”

Her eyes fell, she’d never heard herself spoken of that way by a follower. She had always been looked upon with fear and intimidation. A presence that bent people to her will because they were more fearful of the repercussions that came if they didn’t. It was never hope or belief. It was the same way she had always viewed her father, not with trust or love, but with the tiptoeing of a child afraid of meeting his ire.

“You’re not used to folks talking about you that way, are you? You’re a little more used to being seen as dangerous, something to keep content.”

She flexed her shoulders, the crunch and pop of tired joints the soundtrack to just how worn out she had become. Having acted as a protector to both sides, an angel of destruction and violence – wrath – she was feeling the brunt of it in every twinge that shot through her as the medic’s rough hands started to press at her tender flesh. “Ever since hell seemed to rain down upon this county…being given people’s hope…blind faith…I just don’t see how I deserve it.”

Morrison’s brow lifted as he continued to survey her injuries and the rush job she had done patching it up. “Y’know, in my experience, It’s usually the people who don’t think they deserve it that carry the most weight, they’re the ones who can handle the struggle.”

Her brow lifted, something in that tone, in those words – it bordered on heresy. There was one person in all of Hope County who believed he could take on the world in order to save it, who believed it was his God given right to do so. He deserved to lead people into the Garden, to have them join his family, to bear the weight of sin…

“Be careful what you say,” her tone was chilly enough to send a visible shiver down the medic’s spine. 

He took his hands off of her and backed up, wary of the Lion’s bite. “I’m only saying there’s a reason why the Father called upon you, sister. I mean nothing else.” His gaze shifted to his tools as his way out and then glanced back at her. “I’m gonna have to take a look at you proper to get that bullet out. Gonna need to put you under.”

“No.”

“What the hell d’you mean ‘no’?”

“I need to be awake for him.” She tilted her head in Jacob’s direction as he continued to lie in his unconscious state. 

“Well I have to give you some sort of anesthetic, it’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker if I don’t.”

The medic looked at her like she was a mad woman. As if the idea of her wanting to be aware was some unhinged or deranged notion. It didn’t much matter to her what he thought, she knew what she wanted. She wanted to be clear. 

“No anesthetic,” she snarled. “Save it for someone who needs it.”

She couldn’t be numb, she refused to be any longer. She wanted to feel every burst of pain that exploded through her nerves like a bombshell. Every beat of her heart as it raced and the cold sweat soaked her skin. Every wave of nausea that battered her like the shore in a storm, wracked with shudders that would make her entire body recoil. Anything was better than that empty nothingness she lived with for years while pretending to be sane in a world so devoid of logic or sense that it seemed as though everyone had been driven mad, there were just layers to it. Any reminder that she was alive, and so was he.

“I don’t wanna kill ya.”

“You already said I had something looking out for me,” she challenged him, staring straight into Morrison’s eyes as she cocked her brow. Kit knew she would win. 

His heavy sigh and slumped shoulders were enough to prove he had already rolled over to his whims. “Lay back.”

Rolling her legs up onto the bed, her muddy boots littering the bedding with streaks of thick dirt, Kit rested her head back and turned to look over at Jacob, the muscles at the back of her jaw tightening as she clenched it. Moving her hands to her belt, she unfastened it, pulling it from the loops, the soft jingling of metal filling the room. Folding it over, she brought it to her mouth and stuck it between her teeth to bite down on. It wouldn’t dull the pain, but it would help her through it, give her something to focus on. 

Her frozen stare landed on the medic that stood beside her, and with a nod of her head, he was given the go ahead to start her surgery. Kit couldn’t help but bring her attention back to Jacob, her eyes glued to him, even as the scalpel slipped through her skin, making a larger incision in her chest. As the blade dragged through her flesh, her eyes fluttered shut, her teeth digging into the supple leather below. She could take it, she could handle the pain. She was strong. 

The sharp stinging  that built from the side of her breast bone flared across her chest like wildfire, and her back arched as she screamed around the leather belt in her mouth, her nails digging into the bed she laid upon. She bit down harder and tears stung at the corners of her eyes, making her blue eyes bloodshot. 

“Sorry, ‘bout that.”

She shivered as her back lowered back against the thin mattress, her breath shallow. 

“I’m not gonna dig around for the bullet, at this point I’ll do more damage than good trying to get it out o’ you. Body will heal around it.”

More scar tissue added to the ever growing list inside and outside of her. Sometimes it felt like that was all she was. Marred by it. Wounds healed and opened over and over again, thickened until they were numb and harder to tear. She had always hated the scars that she carried after Afghanistan. Five years of fighting and they were all she had to show for it. Yet in just a few short months in Montana she carried more evidence of being a soldier in the war for the lives and souls of Hope County’s residents than she thought possible. Bullet and arrow entry and exit wounds, the sin she was forced to bear, two sets of torn open knuckles, and the word she had asked to be branded with. His word – Sacrifice. 

“Gonna seal up some of the torn muscles inside for you and then properly close the wound. It’s not gonna be pretty.”

It was the end of the world as they all knew it. What did she care? She wasn’t there to win the hearts and minds of people by being the pretty face to tempt or convince. She wasn’t John or Faith. She was the Lion. Scars were what made her who she was. Jacob had scars and it had never bothered her. Scars like this weren’t meant to be covered or hidden, they weren’t a source of shame. They were a sign of strength.

[evan4ever]

hiii! can i request a long cuddling session with kit walker x reader where hes really affectionate? you’re writing never fails to impress me <33

Long Day

Warnings: mentions of (child)death at readers job, but mostly fluff

a/n: thank you for the request 🤍

—

It had been a long day. As a nurse, you were on your feet more often then not and a 12 hour shift turned into a 16 hour shift when there was a no call no show and your facility had patients who needed to be taken care of. You often stayed after anyways, so it was no big deal, but goodness you were tired today.

You arrived home late. 9 pm. When you entered you front door, the living room was dark, only lit by a lamp in the corner — Kit always left it on for you. You made your way to the kitchen and saw the dirtied dishes that had been hand washed and were in the rack drying. You frowned slightly realizing Kit had also cooked supper for the two of you since you were supposed to be home at 5. He cooked, ate, and cleaned all by himself. You wondered how you found such a wonderful man.

You opened the fridge and looked around for something to eat since you hadn’t ate since breakfast, deciding on just an apple. You leaned against the counter as you bit into it, you mind wandering as you continued eating away at it.

You had two codes today, one whom happened to be a small boy. All patients who code bother you, but the children always tugged your heart harder. It was never something that was supposed to happen. No child should go before their parent. And despite your every and hardest attempt to revive this boy, he was gone. You held him while the doctor went to his parents to bare the worst news of their life, until he brought them back to which you handed him over.

You cried with them. You rubbed his mothers back as she cried over his small body wondering why this had to happen. You wished you could’ve told her, but no one knew the answer.

It was a rough day and you couldn’t get the picture out of your head as it replayed over and over.

“What’s wrong baby?” Your eyes shot open at Kit’s concerned voice, looking up at his as he stood before you with furrowed brows. You hadn’t realized you were crying.

“Oh.” You quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks and set the apple down and you stood up, shaking your head. Kit’s hands had found their way to your waist, holding you gently as you recomposed yourself. “It’s nothing. Just a bad day.” You nodded giving him a reassuring smile though he didn’t buy it.

“Doesn’t look like nothin’?” He tilted his head to the side urging you to talk to him. You gazed at him for a moment before sighing and allowing yourself to rest into his chest, his arms wrapping you up and his fingertips gently tracing over your back while he waited for you to open up to him.

“A young boy passed away today. I wasn’t able to save him.” You sighed deeper, your jaw clenching. “He was only 5.”

You felt Kit’s body tense as his grip around you tightened. He was the same when it came to children. And it always worried him when you had patients pass away on your watch, because he’s seen how hard it affects you. You never let go of those patients. They stay with you.

“Oh darlin’.” He sighed before pressing a kiss against your head. “M’sorry. Y’know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

You pulled yourself back enough to look up at him, giving him a tight lipped smile and a small nod. “Doesn’t make it any easier, though. No child should ever die. It’s not fair.” You whispered the last sentence as your eyes became glossy again, Kit quickly pulling you back to him tightly.

“Maybe you should take some time off. You’ve been workin’ a lot lately. Y’gotta take care of yourself too, suga.” He said softly into your hair. You smiled against him, appreciating how much he cared for you and your own health.

But you guys couldn’t afford for either of you to take off, so it was off the table.

“You know I can’t, babe.” You said quietly into him. You felt him sigh but he didn’t push further.

“Let’s go lay down. You need to get some rest.” He pulled away from you, taking your hands in his as he pulled you with him gently. You smiled up at him while allowing him to guide you to your shared bedroom.

He pulled the comforter down on your side for you, you crawling in as he crawled over you to his side and made his way under the blankets too. He wasted no time in wrapping you back into his arms, pulling you tightly to his chest while you confined yourself into his hold. The room filled with silence as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck and listened to his breathing, each breath out relaxing you more. He was so warm and you always felt so safe in his presence.

“Do you think heaven exists?” You finally broke the silence, blinking a few times as you stared at the window behind Kit. You felt his arms pull you closer as he let out another sigh, your eyes finding their way to his now that were fixated on your hands that were between you and him. You gazed at his face wondering what he was thinking now.

“I’m not sure. But I think there’s something after life. And I think it’s a beautiful, pain free place.” he nods, his eyes flickering up to meet yours now. You raised your eyebrows a bit before you nodded in response.

“I hope so. It’s be nice to know for sure, so when these children do pass away, I can reassure myself that they’re going somewhere better than this life.” You looked down as you thought about it more.

Kit continued looking at you, his hand finding it’s way to your hair and brushing through it with his fingers in a form of comfort. His other hand found it’s way under your shirt, tracing more figures over your soft skin.

You guys cuddled often, but he was being extra affectionate tonight, knowing you needed it. It hurt him knowing you were hurting inside.

You felt him take a deep breath, looking back to his face.

“You know what my favorite thing about you is?” He asked, looking back down at you. You raised your eyebrows and shrugged, shaking you head in wonder. A small smile formed on his lips. “Your heart.”

You pressed your lips together and sucked in a deep breath, nuzzling your forehead against his chin which allowed him to place small kisses against your head. Your hands parted so they could wrap around him, his head lifting enough for you to slide your arm under it and into a hug. One of his arms still wrapped under your waist and pulling you into him so your body was plush against his, his other arm wrapped around your neck delicately, his hand against the side of your head holding it against him.

“Everything you feel, you feel so deeply. You care about those around you. You’re kind.. you’re loving.” You listened to his every word, your eyes closing in the process. “You have a heart of gold in a world of stone. I admire it. M’so happy that I get to call you mine.” You tightened your arms around him, his hand running gently down your face and to your shoulder. “I’ve never loved anything or anyone more than I do you.”

Your eyes squeezed closed tighter, trying not to well up again at his words. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear them.

You were practically on top of him at this point, holding him to you still. One of his hands now rested on your back as his other played with your hair again, brushing through it gently. Every once in awhile he’d place another small kiss on your head, your cheek, your ear. Wherever he could. He just showered you in them while allowing you to hug all of your sorrows away through him.

“I love you so much” you mumbled into his neck where your face was snuggled into.

You finally felt the weight lift off of your shoulders, able to completely relax yourself into him and let your worries wash away.

“I love you baby.”

—

Tags: @evanpetersmood @witchsbitchestime @demxnicprxncess @yes-divine-ruler @shjjpm @evanpsrealwife @iruzias @jangsuzchap @quicksilversg1rl @submissiveforahsmen @angelmenace @lovelizzie-blog1 @justa19 @daylas-life @simp4petermaximoff @totta69

[rorywritesjunk]

(I'm currently taking a Child's Safety class at my job and half the time I was mentally writing this)

The silence was deafening.

The three year old and five year old had been playing loudly in the main bedroom while Sunny tidied up, stripping bedding and picking up toys that were scattered about. The kids had been bouncing around on Sunny and Buggy's mattress while she was in the room next to it, listening in to make sure they were okay. They were laughing and squealing with each jump, the bed and mattress creaking underneath.

Except she got a little too distracted organizing Silver and Gold's toys that when she realized there was no noise coming from the room she panicked. She stopped what she was doing and hurried over to the room, hoping they were okay, but the sight before her stopped her in her tracks.

In the five minutes she wasn't listening, Gold and Silver went over to Buggy's vanity, emptied several drawers, and now Silver was sitting in front of her brother as he tried to draw on her face.

The sight was very cute but Sunny was concerned about how her husband was going to react. That was all of his makeup on the floor, various containers open, contents spilled and smeared everywhere.

She had to take a deep breath to keep from reacting herself before she went to find her husband.

Buggy was busy looking over some maps in his office, grumbling about some of the crayon marks on them. The kids had gotten a hold of them and he didn't know how but he wasn't very happy about it.

"Honey?"

He looked up with a frown, seeing his wife in the doorway with a grin on her face. He blinked in confusion for a moment, wondering why she was looking at him like that, but she made her way over to him and kissed him on the forehead.

"I need you to come see something but I don't want you getting mad."

"What happened now?" He sighed, already dreading what she was about to say.

"Promise you won't get mad at them, Buggy. We can scold them but they won't understand what they did was wrong."

He groaned and stood up, wondering what he was about to walk into. Sunny led him back to their room and he stopped in his tracks.

By now Silver had a colorful face with the different colors Gold had used, and the little boy was now trying to draw designs on his own face without a mirror. Buggy's eyes went from his kids to the mess before his shoulders dropped and he sighed in defeat. The kids looked up when they heard them, their faces lighting up.

"We look like daddy!" Gold announced.

"Daddy!" Silver agreed as she lifted her arms up to him.

Sunny watched her husband for a reaction. He could only stare down at them before he walked past them and went over to the wardrobe, opening it to rummage around. Sunny took a seat on the floor beside her daughter, lifting the little girl into her lap as Buggy came back with something in his hand. He sighed and held it out for Sunny to see.

"I was going to give these little monsters their own kits to destroy so this didn't happen." He said as he sat down, trying not to focus on the destruction of his makeup. Some of it was brand new while some was headed for the trash. He was... He was upset. He knew parenthood was going to be hard but he knew he couldn't get too mad at them. They were still so little and he didn't want his children scared of him.

"Oh, Buggy." Sunny scooted closer to him and kissed him on the cheek. He cleared his throat as his cheeks pinked and he turned his attention back to his son.

"Now, if you wanted to wear this stuff you shoulda asked, you little monsters." Buggy said as he looked over his son's face. It wasn't that bad. He licked his thumb to correct some of the lines. "I bought you your own stuff though, so next time use that, got it?"

"Daddy, can I do yours?" Gold asked as he held up the red pigment stick. Buggy shook his head and Gold's face fell, but his dad pointed at Sunny.

"No, but practice on Mama. She doesn't know how to do this stuff."

"Now, hang on-"

"I think it's fair since this happened while she was watching you." Buggy continued with a smug look on his face. He pulled his son into his lap and turned him to face Sunny. She looked unsure about this but Buggy just grinned.

Really, he couldn't be too mad at the kids. They did spend most of their mornings with him as he got ready after all, watching their daddy get ready for a day of piracy with his makeup freshly done. And it was pretty cute seeing blonde versions of himself watching as their mama got her makeup done. He couldn't help but give his son direction, eventually pulling Silver into his lap so she could help out. Buggy enjoyed giving his red pigment stick to her to put on Sunny and he snickered as the little girl drew wiggly lines all around Sunny's mouth.

"All done!" Gold announced as he looked up at Buggy.

"Done!" Silver chimed in. Sunny sighed and grabbed a little compact mirror off the floor to look at. She wondered how easy this was to wash off but she wasn't going to say anything that would wipe the smiles off her children's faces.

"Well, look at that, spending all those mornings with daddy really paid off." Sunny said as she turned her head to the side, admiring the work they did. Red squiggly mouth, uneven blue lines around her eyes, and a half drawn set of bones on her forehead. "I like how you copied daddy's look. Good job!"

~

That night, after the kids were bathed and put to bed, Buggy helped his wife clean her own face off, using a homemade solution of coconut oil to get every little bit off.

"I say this a lot but you're a good dad." Sunny told him as he worked carefully around her eyes.

"Yea, well..." He trailed off, face turning red as he distracted himself. "Can't help but be the best at everything, you know."

"So humble." She hummed as he finished cleaning her face. "I mean it. I know you had concerns about this sort of thing but I'm proud of how you handled this."

Buggy shrugged, wiping his hands with a towel to clean off the oil. That was still a concern of his. He still wondered if there would be a day where he screams and loses his temper at his kids in a way to make them scared of him. He didn't want that.

She smiled and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. "And you were so cute with them as you helped them put the makeup on me. You were so sweet and gentle. I loved watching the three of you."

He kept quiet, letting the praise sink in, his face burning red as he looked up at her.

"Babe?"

"Yes, honey?"

He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek. "I want another one."

[histrions]

hi! ♡ this is neve ( she/her ) and i've brought to you blush boutique's owner, nam yeonji. since she's been in ansong for twenty five years, you best believe she has done a lot of things since then! feel free to read her about and memories here. more ( like, a lot more ) details on her can also be found under the cut. and before i forget, drop a like on this post if you're up for some plotting! ( ps. i'm so happy to be here and please do expect me to be very annoying in your ims soon! )

ansong

tried dropping all of her items down at the building's lost and found. sure, she had that familiarity in her heart but what the hell would she do with a children's make-up kit? bffr.

she spent ten whole years studying at ansong university, majoring in fashion design, creative writing, then visual arts. still likes painting and reading to this day. (her subconscious was probably pushing her to do so because she barely graduated high school in her waking life.)

about fifteen years ago, she opened blush boutique and the rest is history. thanks to it, she was able to unlock her first core memory too. (her first collection was inspired by the color palette of the aforementioned children's make-up kit.)

purposefully moved to floor #09 unit #09 to try and figure out what her "nine" notecard means. (spoiler alert: nothing good.)

for now, the only thing she remembers of her past is that she was very close to her grandmother.

personality

looks like a bitch, sounds like a bitch, is a bitch. i was originally going to make her less complicated but where's the fun in that!

success has always been the most important thing to her and it's no different now; take a look at her degrees or her boutique. pushes herself hard and pushes others even harder.

the beautiful thing about her is that no matter how cold or intimidating she may be, she mostly just doesn't know how to interact with people. she doesn't necessarily want to be rude, but she also doesn't care enough to apologize and try harder when she fucks up... so, you know. she sucks but not that much.

on the bright side, she's nice to party with! just don't work at blush or get too close to her and you will be fine! i think.

in my head, she has the same energy as that one annoying coworker who comments on everything you do and spreads gossip for fun. i support women's rights and wrongs.

another slightly concerning thing she does is people-watching. doesn't try to be subtle about it either. if you think she's judging you, she most likely is.

but she's not all bad! (please don't give up on her pleaseplaeasepelapselease)

very creative. puts a lot of thought and effort into everything. extremely loyal, both to her craft and to those she loves. doesn't lie or pretend; always very straightforward about her intentions. if you're her friend, you will never feel unappreciated! you will be showered in gifts and that's a threat. just don't expect words of affirmation from her because she doesn't have the slightest idea how to do that.

connection ideas

any antagonistic plots, obviously! she called your outfit ugly, stole your cat, hit on your boyfriend/girlfriend at a bar, etc.

rivals. maybe another business owner who gets on her nerves.

that one unlikely friend who is all "i can fix her" and it grosses her out.

if you need a low maintenance friend, you have found her! your muse could ghost her for years and she wouldn't even notice.

anyone who is into art in general! if you nerd out with her, you might see a better side of her, just saying!

let's give her another weird ex! she can't remember the one from her waking life so it's okay. <3

or anything else you want. i'm all ears!

and now, onto the part you're probably curious about!

trigger warnings: brief mentions of abuse (child, domestic, and alcohol), depression, suicidal ideation, and murder.

life and death

let me set the scene: late 70s, jeju city. baby yeonji's parents, living their best life thanks to grandma yeonji, so much so that they even named their only child after her. thing is, her grandmother was one of the most successful actresses of her time, which allowed the family to live luxuriously.

naturally, this privilege also came with its own set of expectations. her grandmother and mother were both adamant that yeonji goes down the acting route herself.

(this was mostly to make up for the fact that her mother never succeeded as an actress. passing down generational trauma, the tragedy of being a daughter, etcetera. you know how it goes.)

so yeonji became a child actress, constantly missing school just to keep up with her work. by her early 20s, she started to win awards of her own. acted in a lot of romance k-dramas, which she absolutely hated.

her then boyfriend (who is unnamed for plot purposes but also because i hate his ass) proposed to her at an award ceremony (way to make it about yourself, buddy) and the two got married soon after.

long story short, their relationship turned really abusive and yeonji started drinking. she would also frequently call suicide hotlines as she felt like she had lost control over her life. (or that she never had any to begin with.)

just a minute before the clock struck midnight on new years' eve in '99, yeonji had an argument with her husband and was pushed off a balcony. (not so fun fact: the nine notecard refers to the year and the number of floors she fell down.)

currently thinking about how both her grandmother and mother outlived her but.. that is a heartache for another day..

if you read this far, have this lore accurate yeonji depiction:

[the-kinnie-in-me]

Okay, well then I hope you don’t mind me returning with yet another request. I can’t help it, I just really love your writing <3

I would love some headcanons for tasm Peter falling in love again for the first time since Gwen (god, just typing that made me tear up lmao)!

Take your time, have fun with it, and have a lovely day/night :)

A/n: This has been in my ask box for so long holy shit- I'm so sorry about that. I was on an intense writer's block and I think the fact that its Valentines' Day where I'm at kinda inspired me. This is not my best work since romantic writing isn't my cup of tea 😭 But I still hope you enjoy this-

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌! 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐰𝐞𝐧:

⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎⚠︎

(I’m basing this off before he met the other Peters btw)

Let's start with some pre-relationship stuff-

I don’t really see it as love at 1st sight

It might take some since yk- his ex died because he couldn’t save her

How much time it would take would depend on how persistent you are in befriending him 1st

 There's definitely some remaining guilt and self-loathing so please be patient with him

He’s still a nice and friendly person so it isn’t that hard to befriend him 

In other words- You’re gonna have to buckle up since you’re about to experience the slowest slow-burn friends-to-lovers in history (Tho the fluff post and pre-relationship make it worth it)

Now onto the relationship itself

Aunt May adores you

She saw how you make her nephew happy after what happened with Gwen and approved of you immediately

“I saw how that boy mourned Gwen. I raised him for most of his life and it was devastating for me to see him like that. Then he met you, it was like it never happened and he was as happy as he was before. And I can’t express how thankful I am to you.”

We all saw how much effort he put into his and Gwen’s relationship- He would do the 1000% same thing with you

This is a bit angsty but- It just doesn’t feel the same?? THO IT DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU- When he was doing that stuff for Gwen he had a lot more self-esteem if you get what I mean?

HELP HIM GAIN HIS CONFIDENCE BACK

There have to be a lot of words of affirmation in this relationship homeboy needs it

After he gains his confidence it's mostly rainbows and sunshine

The reason why I say mostly? The topic of Spiderman.

I mean- He would tell you but he doesn’t want you to get involved 

He is very much persistent about that

He will give you every reason to not  get involved 

There’s honestly no win in this situation

If you don’t get involved you worry about him daily

*Peter enters your bedroom through your window*

“The hell happened this time?”

“They um- got me pretty bad”

You rush to grab the First Aid kit

“Yeah. I can see that.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure…Because your tone kinda says otherwise”

*Sighs* “I’m not mad. Just stressed and worried because of you.”

If you do get involved he worries about you daily

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“SAVING YOUR ASS”

Or

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out doing Spiderman things?”

“Yeah about that- Whatever I was fighting got away and it seemed pretty pissed. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t gonna be petty and go after you”

I just realized the majority of this has been angst or about Gwen’s death in some way-

He doesn’t confront people when jealous

Poor boy just wants to leave with you beside him

He tries to hide it but it's kinda obvious

Tease him about it and see how long it takes for him to admit it I wanna test a theory

He is a total softy for you

Why can’t I find a bf like that on E-bay

A sane amount of PDA

Like hand-holding, falling asleep on him (albeit accidentally), and kissing on the cheek

He likes cuddling in private tho

Everything he does for and says to you just seems to be genuine-

A gentleman that was raised well fr

He will do so many things for you that it's concerning how fast he agrees,

“Hey Pete can you-”

“Of course”

This is entirely my opinion/ idea of him- I don’t see him calling you any pet names besides the occasional “babe” 

BUT- the amount of love and emotion traced whenever he just simply says your name makes up for it completely

Before I end this I just want to make 1 thing clear-

You are NOT a rebound 

He will do anything to prove that he never considered you a replacement for Gwen the moment he senses you feel that way

In his eyes, Gwen is his past 

In his eyes, you are his present and future

In his eyes, you are his everything.

[tomatoswup]

Hello !! Can i have some fluff for tristamp!vash please 👉👈 (i'm sorry if i made some grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language :'))

Reader is ww's little sister, and she admires her brother so much that she would copy his cool characteristics, but deep down her personality is more shy, introverted, pure and innocent (as a result of hanging around with vash). One day ww asked his sister to go and confess to vash already (bcs ww can't take it anymore to see both vash and his sister just so sickeningly oblivious about eachother's feelings). So the reader went to confess to vash trying to be cool like her brother and all but failed miserably and return to her original personality (which leaves her stuttering, fidgeting, etc.)

I just realized it's so long- (I'm sorry 😔) feel free to pass this req :D and please keep yourself safe and healthy despite your busy schedule ^^

Confess!

A/N: Thank you for the request anon🫶🫶 This came out alot more longer than i thought,, also sorry for the late response I was multitasking with some work I was doing for school :/ i hope i did the request right -wheeze- Sorry for making you wait D: Enjoy🌱

warnings/tags: vash x reader, little sister!reader and big brother! Wolfwood,,, fluff, 2 am writing bc i need to fix my sleep schedule asap💪💪,, trigun coded chaotic confession from reader,,

Wolfwood liked to consider himself to be an observer, in more ways than one. Being a "priest" on the side, observation was one of the key things he did to keep both you and him alive in these treacherous deserts of No Man's Land but sometimes.

Oh just sometimes, it felt like a curse. And maybe it felt like that because he had watched on as his baby sister slowly fell in love with a moralistic idiot...Eh like a quarter of an idiot really.

"Ow ow ow..." Vash winced in pain as you tightened the bandages on his arm. After a nasty bounty hunter encounter, the group of you guys had decided to take a moments break from the road and crash at this small town that hadn't been too far from where you guys had been. And since having been given a med-kit by a kind family you had run into a while back, you took it upon yourself to patch everyone up with a stern eye, one that Wolfwood often shot at people.

In reality, it was the worst stern eye that Wolfwood couldn't help but want to stifle his laugh.

"Oh shut it, always getting hurt." You scoffed at the sorry-smiling blonde, cleaning the small gash on his right cheek "You act like you can’t die Vash, we're not all immortal..." He let out another small squeak of pain as you accidentally pressed down a little too hard on the wound "You need to take care of yourself a little more."

"Sorry about that.. I’ll try to be careful next time.." Vash sweat-dropped, trying to stop shying away from the cloth of alcohol you held up to him.

From above, Wolfwood dug into the pockets of his jacket, rummaging for another loose lollipop as he watched from the top compartment of the car in silence to not disturb the pair of you.

What? He was there first! Talking about ruining his evening nap..He put the newly found lollipop into his mouth and continued to watch on.

"Hey..." Vash muttered as you swiped your finger across his cheek, making sure the bandage held up.

"Hm?"

With a jolt, you quickly looked up when you felt the warmth of another hand cover your own. "Are you okay?" Vash asked softly as he gave you a concerned glint. Shit, you hadn't noticed you were slightly trembling.

Maybe that encounter ruffled your feathers a bit too much...Were you okay?

"I-" You choked out, feeling that odd churning sensation in your chest that you've only really come to realize you would get only around him. And it made you mentally blow a fuse.

W-What do you say!?!

It took a moments thought before you regained your composure at the sudden touch "I'm..I’m fine Vash.” You reassured him, playfully using your freehand to fix the glasses that had been falling off his nose “Don’t worry about me.”

'Are you kidding me?' Wolfwood thought in exasperation. 2 months, these small little talks and touches have been going on for 2 months now. Two months of him enclosed in a car as the both of you passively flirted with each other.

Yes, passive. Little bits here and there and suddenly you wear his jacket sometimes?

He can't handle the both of you anymore, it felt like he was drinking a overly sugary soda.

At least put a name to it!

Spotting Roberto making his way back to the car from not too far away, an idea struck up in Wolfwood's mind. Something to end the suffering, and something to perhaps help his little sister out.

"HEY ROBERTO!" Wolfwood lazily called out, jump scaring both Vash and you into standing like mercenaries ready for war. Looking up, you couldn't help but frown to see your brother mischievously waving down at the two of you.

"TAKE NEEDLE NOGGIN WITH YOU TO FIND SOME OF THE CAR PARTS! Let his ass do something..." He muttered the last part under his breath as Vash sighed, ultimately being pulled from the back of his jacket by Roberto who continued to walk down the road.

Was that a "Can we leave" from Roberto or was it just you?

"I'LL BE BACK!" You heard the spiky blonde shout out to you, and well, you couldn't help but laugh out and wave.

"Now that he's gone..." Wolfwood pressed down on the lollipop with his teeth until a small crack emitted, starting to chew on the poor candy "Seriously? Why don't you just tell him you like him already?"

Stuffing the med-kit back into your bag, you brushed him off "Nic I don't like him.."

Your brother let out a large, rugged laugh "Are you kidding me? For just being friends you two spend an awful long time alone together."

You felt the heat rise up to your face and god did you hope that it was because of the sun.

"Sorry but I'm gettin' tired of seeing the two of you pin for each-"

Wolfwood was interrupted by your muttering, making him hop off the roof of the car for a closer listen "Wanna say that one more time?"

"I can't..." You muttered as you slapped your hands on your cheeks, shooting your older brother a worried, red look "What if he says no?"

No?

You were worried if the love-struck idiot said no?

Have you really not seen how he would stare at you?

Wolfwood couldn't help but tilt his head in disbelief, the stick of his lollipop hanging off the edge of his mouth "Did you really- You try acting like me but you can't confess a little crush? What happened to that?"

You couldn't help but let out a tired exhale, he did have a point after all. As much as you did try to act like him, all brave and careless, you weren't him. Most honestly, the opposite and Vash had come to prove it too many times that you could count.

And maybe you were a bit too mean while you were putting bandages on him..

You covered your mouth, shyly looking away from your brothers' gaze.

Those times he had comforted you whenever you couldn't sleep, or when you were hurt-

"Oh spare me the shyness!" Wolfwood put a hand on his waist, putting his weight to one leg "Shit, if you don't tell him then I'd might as well-"

"NO!" You gasped out in horror at the idea. "No?"

Picking your bag off the floor, you massaged the bridge of your nose "I'll....Shit I'll do it."

Eh, Wolfwood bet two lollipops and a cup of sand that you were really gonna do it. But anything to end this suffering he's witnessed for god knows how long.

"Well, I'm just sayin' you should do it already. Its been way past due anyways..." He flickered his eyes back to you as he roughly ruffled the top of your head, making you whine in annoyance "Ouch Nic stop-"

"Just tell me when you do it. I'll kick his ass if he tries anything weird-"

"SERIOUSLY!?"

"I'M BEING SERIOUS!"

///

And that's how you found yourself outside the small town's saloon. Having asked Meryl where Roberto had dragged Vash, she pointed you to the right direction yet it was one you were a bit hesitant to follow.

Did you ever expect yourself to go into a saloon alone?

Hell no, you didn't even really find yourself talking to people in places like that. The last few times you've actually visited a saloon were only really just you sitting in a corner with Meryl or trying your best to sit away from people, watching as you ate your little plate of food but...

Would it really look weird if you strolled right in?

"It's alright..." You egged yourself on quietly "You can do it..Maybe if I just stroll in like Nic it'll be easy..."

I don't think you've seen how Wolfwood himself has entered bars...yikes..

With only a seconds hesitation, you pushed your legs forward and through the wooden double doors of the saloon, striding right into the loud bustling energy filled room.

Okay maybe you should’ve waited a bit more-

Yelling, laughing and god knows what those words were thrown in the air as the severe smell of sweat reached your nose, making you instinctively scrunch your face in disgust. Ew.

"Excuse me miss!" A waitress yelped out, making you take a quick step back nearly avoiding a bad collision with the poor girl serving drinks. Busy day it seemed, but you were here for other things.

Let's see, where could the two of them be- The sudden shout of your name made you do a double take around the room until the flash of red met your eyes and before you realized it, you saw Vash's waving hand of blue shine under the lights.

Well that was easier than you thought!

A wide smile on his face, his eyes practically sparkled as you pushed past several bar-goers and to his table. "Aren't I glad to see you!" Taking the seat next to him, you looked around the room once again "Wasn't Roberto suppose to..." You trailed off, turning and seeing the bummed out look on Vash's face.

"Well, we were gonna get the parts, but he saw the sign outside-"

Ohhh, the "if you bring two people they'll give you 50% off" poster...Made a lot more sense to be honest.

"And well, I guess you know what happened from there..." He sighed, resting his head on his hand, closing his eyes dramatically before batting them up at you "Now why are you here? I know you're not a big fan of these kinds of places."

So it did look weird!

Oh god...Your face began to feel a bit more hotter than usual as you unconsciously started playing around with a loose thread on your pants "Oh um...W-Well I came to tell you..." You nervously laughed out as Vash obliviously smiled at you, waiting for your response.

What if he said no?

With that singular thought, that singular worry that ran through your head once again, you choked. Nope, you couldn't do this.

You felt your heart beat against the walls of your chest alongside the loud environment and it felt...overwhelming. You should’ve done this another time.

The wooden chair scratched across the floor behind you as you shot up from your seat, making Vash jump a little "Actually Vash, I actually wanted to show you something I learned!” You fake laughed, taking a few steps back "But I just think it's bad timing maybe if I could just go outside to think about it-" Fumbling over your words, you hadn't completely taken in your surroundings when suddenly, you felt your back bump into one of the servers.

And with a scream, the server flew backwards and straight into the nearby table, flipping everything onto the...Very burly men sitting around it.

oops…

"HEY!" One of them hollered at you as you threw your hands up in surrender, the bar shushing down as the rest of the men began to spit out threats like venom.

"Woah woah woah! Hey guys, can't we all calm down and just chat? Haha? Maybe my friend here could show you a few tricks she just learned!" Vash intervened, putting a hand on your shoulder as he pulled you back behind him, putting his own body infront of you. Sweat starting to run on his forehead, he gave you one last nervous smile, teeth baring out “Right?”

Definitely not.

As if everything froze, the saloon had gone as silent as a library after Vash's remark.

Ohhh you fucked up...

Big time.

It was until the sudden shout of "Bar Fight!" had run through the room that you snapped out of your daze, realizing someone move faster than you had.

Vash took the opportunity to quickly turn and tackle you down to the ground just in time to dodge various glass bottles that had been heading your way.

"Gotcha!" Vash breathed out, pushing a wooden table down so that the both of you could take cover from the mess that was amping up at every second. The screams, yells and things breaking had made you put your hand over your mouth and listen in horror at the mess you had just created because of your last minute attempt to run away.

"Vash I'm so sorry oh my god.." You cried out from beside him as he gave you a nervous laugh "It's really no problem- GYAH!" He screamed, throwing himself forwards whilst pulling you along to avoid the body of a heavy-weight bounty hunter that had almost been thrown into you guys.

"LIKE I WAS SAYING, THERES NOT REALLY ANY PROBLEM! WE BOTH KNOW THIS IS THE KIND OF TROUBLE I ALWAYS FALL IN!" He yelped as you hurridly crawled to the next table for cover, Vash following behind.

"WHAT DID YOU REALLY WANNA SAY? AT THE TABLE?!" He loudly asked as you snapped your red face to him.

Crap.

Can't escape it now can you?

“I LIKE YOU!” You blurted out over the noise, catching him off guard "But! But uh! Not like the regular kinda like ya know!? More like a like-like? More like you make my stomach flutter and-" You continued to jumble your thoughts out as they zipped through your mind at the speed of light.

Fight or flight? HELL FLIGHT!

Pulling yourself up from the floor and onto your feet, you looked back down at Vash without thinking “IT'S OKAY IF YOU DON'T-"

"WATCH OUT!"

//

By the end of the day, everything worked out! Uh...Kinda.

"Ow ow ow..." You groaned, trying to lean away from Vash as he wiped the dirt off from the bump on your forehead.

"Hey don't lean away from me~"

This felt familiar didn’t it?

Well, besides getting hit with a metal serving pan square in the head, the both of you were able to get out of that hell hole without any other big injuries besides from your dignity.

And you made a big note to yourself currently sitting on the saloon steps, to never go into a saloon again.

Of course you had to make such a mess whilst just trying to confess your love to someone, it just had to be your luck! Maybe that was what Wolfwood was rubbing off on you!

You tried your best to avoid Vash's peering eyes as the tips of his fingers caressed your forehead, causing goosebumps to run up your shoulders "I never gave you an answer did I?" He pondered. And before you knew it, you felt a quick sting of pressure on your forehead and right on the bump, both hands of his gentle with holding the sides of your cheeks.

"V-Vash!?" You gaped out as he backed away, the blush on his face mimicking your own as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand "You really had a man's heart pumping with what you said back there! It might have not been as pretty with, uh ya know..” He wiped the bump on your forehead with his thumb “But I’ll always say yes, even if you confessed to me in the deserts or in space..”

You stifled your laugh “Oh really?”

“Definitely.”

The sun had begun to set orange and yellow, illuminating the back of Vash’s body and thinking about it, you hadn't regret all those feelings, or this chaotic moment with him.

It felt like a mental photo that you had taken as those bright blue eyes shined adoringly at you as you couldn't help but break out into giggles.

“You beat me to it though…” He chuckled as he got up and offered his hand down to you. "How does breakfast sound? Maybe I could..confess my love to you in donuts?”

“Well don’t mind if I do~”

Breakfast sounded perfect.