metal sank

Heal My Wounds - Part 2

Masterlist - Part 1

Peter has a massive crush on the reader but can’t help but wonder why she always covers her hands with gloves.

author’s note: I’m so shocked with the positive responses this got! Ya’ll are just too nice ilysm (this chapter is kinda dull idk idk i don’t like it’s really shitty)

word count: 1k (it’s kinda short but i wanted to give you guys something, the next chapter will be longer i promise)

warnings: angst i think?

Hearing Peter’s panicked voice from downstairs you had quickly jumped up to your feet running the brown fabric over your hands as you walked down the stairs every step becoming slower and lighter when you heard what Peter was talking about.

“She has a metal arm Tony, a metal arm!” your stomach sank as the words rolled of Peter’s tongue and you slowly turned around quietly making your way back up the stairs and into his bedroom.

When you finally stepped over the doorframe of his room you grabbed your backpack and stuffed the school books you had laid out on Peter’s night stand back into it, stealthily making your way towards Peter’s window you pushed it open before swinging your legs over the edge and jumping down.

As soon as your feet hit the pavement you pulled back the glove on your right hand seeing it had started to slip off and the metal now shone brightly due to the sun that reflected on it.

You pulled your hood up covering your H/C hair, a nervous habit you always found yourself doing when you felt like you were being followed. 

Unlocking the door to your apartment you threw back your hood and quickly ran into your bedroom, where you practically kicked the closet door down in search for a duffle bag. 

You breathed out a sigh of relieve when you finally found it stuffed in between the many shirts and hoodies you had thrown into a pile in the middle of the closet, to lazy to fold your clothes and put them into your drawers.

Grabbing the bag you threw it onto your bed and started grabbing every piece of clothing you could find, it didn’t matter what the only thing that mattered was getting out of there as soon as possible.

As you were zipping the bag shut you heard a light knock on your door and you froze quietly letting the bag slip of your shoulder as you walked past your couch and towards the wooden door.

You looked through the peep hole and groaned when you saw Peter standing there anxiously biting his nails “Y/N will you please let me in” he pleaded his knuckles hitting the door yet again as he rolled back and forth on the balls off his feet.

Coming to Queens had originally just been an escape plan and your small apartment was a safe house you had managed to come across a couple of months ago when you were still on the run.

But now it was obvious that your secret had been discovered and you had to get out of there, it wasn’t safe anymore, it wasn’t home anymore. Now someone knew about your arm and with that information it wouldn’t take them long to find out about your past.

Slipping out of the front door you slammed it shut behind you and you were now stood face to face with Peter.

“Y/N listen to me I’m not here to hurt you” he spoke, the concern he felt practically radiating of his own body “I want to help you, please let me help you” a shaky sigh left your lips as you looked down to your feet.

If it had been anyone else you would have already ran off and proceeded with your escape plan but this wasn’t just anyone it was Peter Parker, the guy who had just confessed his feelings to you a couple off hours ago.

There was something about him that made you believe that he truly only wanted to help you but there was still the voice in the back off your head telling you to run and never look back.

You looked back up at Peter taking a step back you turned around only to be met with another body towering over you before everything faded into blackness as you fell back into Peter’s arms.

Peter’s POV

Guilt washed over Peter as you fell back into his arms, he knew you would have never came with him willingly so he had Steve accompany him and sedate you (I’m not really sure it’s sedation that does this but let’s just pretend it is) incase you decided to try and run away.

He swooped you up into his arms and gave Steve a nod before they both walked out of the building. Steve walked in front of Peter shielding him incase someone walked past them so they wouldn’t see you. 

Luckily there had been no one, the streets unusually empty as he carefully placed you into the back of the white pickup truck they had came here in. And as soon as Peter felt you were safe enough in the position he had laid you down in he got into the front with Steve and they drove back to the tower, your light snores filling the previously quite vehicle.

As soon as they had arrived Peter carried you inside just as he had carried you out of your apartment complex and he couldn’t help but smile as your cheek rested against his chest and you curled up more into his tight grip around you.

Steve had ordered Peter to take you up to Bruce while he went to get the rest off the team, Peter of course did as Steve told him and walked into the elevator yelling out for F.R.I.D.A.Y to take you both up to Bruce’s floor.

When the elevator doors opened he saw Bruce had already been waiting for him and guided him into the hospital room where he ordered him to lay you down on the soft mattress and he would take care of the rest.

Peter was hesitant to leave you at first but Bruce assured him that you were going to be just fine and would most likely wake up in a couple of hours, and with that Peter walked out the guilt he felt only increasing as he made his way towards the conference room to meet the rest off the team.

He was nervous to say the least, when he saw your arm he didn’t know what to think. He knew what Bucky had gone through and it made him sick to the stomach thinking you had most likely went through the exact same things, maybe even worse.

He slammed his eyes shut trying his best to think about anything else than that but the thoughts rolled back into his mind and he leaned back against the wall off the elevator.

Hopefully he had done the right thing by bringing you here.

Tag List: @phoenixiax @monsis-world @toms-spidey @notsoluckybucky @tiny-friggin-human @elegantchaosballoon @bleached-orchid @peterparker-darling @lostqueen1613 @josie605 @lukesxmermaid @holytacocactuscollector @nedslaptop @totallynotkaibiased @theweirdlunatic @marvelimaginesandart @moon-moon-chan-chan @bertholdtssweat @t-a-m-s-y-n @nathalieruaudel @usedandreplaced @peter-pan-hoe @triscuitbiscuit @bloggett @johnmurphys-sass @pietromaximooof @assgardstark @sai-kida134 @throwinuprainbows101 @parkermanparkercan   @yourbitchyqueenblog @i-just-wanna-run-hell @fluffylemonjuice @crazylost-soul @princessfuckyou @aesthsuggestion @v-a-l-o-r-a @sokkasbae255 @sittingwithlucifer @fandom-musiclife @bethabear12 @lilspacefreckles @5lightyearsaway @procrasinationprincess @throwinuprainbows101 @its-sophia-xo-love @minion38 @queenkcm @smalls135 @hocotom @ironic-mind @gryffinclawlife @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @yannii04 @mashytatoes @darkerthanspace @fortheloveoflamp @allison0609 @mr-robot-x@adrianapoynter@spideysbitch@teahollxnd @robin5r @draqcnheartstrinq @imincastielsarmy @greyskythinker @tongueofareadywriter @therealme13posts @no-good-ideas @ketterdame @sylviestars @adrianapoynter @so-wanderfull @eabha-no @bbparker @meavenel @girl-obsessed-with-things@spideytrxsh@cluttersofclove@laylaispunkrock @raindancer2004 @cleverassbutt @poetsheart @kathasyourtounge 

strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you :( please notify me if i forgot to tag you!! If you want to be removed/added to the tag list let me know. Kylie 

Through the Looking Glass - Chapter 2

SPN FanFic

~Sam and Dean burst through your apartment door to save you from a nasty ghost attack. The amazing part is… Sam and Dean are characters on a TV show, so what the hell is going on?~

Reader, Dean, Sam (no pairings..yet?)

4,360 Words (oops!)

Warnings: Reader has a potty mouth. Death of a friend. Bit more Angst.

A/N: I’m totally digging this, I hope you are too! Reviews always loved and welcomed! Thanks for reading!

Go To: Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten -

Chapter Two- When You Go To The Bunker

So you ended up at a bar after all, and not with one guy but two. Two absolutely gorgeous guys that up until a few hours ago were merely figments of your imagination; fantasy men that you watched on TV almost every day. Characters portrayed by actors, spouting dialogue and backstory written by writers in some office building across the country. But here you were, sitting in a dark, dirty bar with Sam and Dean Winchester, having a beer and enjoying the hell out of it.

Every so often you had to take a moment and remind yourself that you were quite possibly dead and should enjoy this before it ended. You sat at a round table equidistant from both brothers, and you spent most of your time bouncing between them, staring intensely at each in turn.

Keep reading

You Need A Maid? Chapter 5

Fandom: Avengers / Marvel
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Swearing / Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, blah legal stuff. Don’t sue me, I’m poor.
Songs:  Next Year - Two Door Cinema Club

Chapter Menu

Your name: submit What is this?

Things had been calm in the house for several months. Everyone seemed to have put the awful six-month celebration behind them and moved on. The team was a little kinder to you and seemed to appreciate your work a little bit more. Finally, the day you had been waiting for arrived, your birthday.

“Oh yes, I’d love to ride the horses with you, Fabio. Your hair is so long, can I touch it…”

Keep reading

Reaper 76 time travel fic drabble, Timeless

-A super short time travel fic with young Morrison meeting Reaper. I’ve played with this idea for a while.

Rating: PG  Reyes tries to scare Morrison and grabs his hair, but that’s about it. Thinks about killing and maybe tearing his throat open. You know, the usual from me.


Reyes knew that he should not have shot at Tracer’s chronal accelerator, but Oxton was a slippery foe, pushing Gabriel to attack her whenever she stopped even for one second. The few shots she had managed to land had been minor, though quite painful. But, for a man who had survived an explosion and turned into what he was now, a couple of shots from her pistols were nothing he couldn’t endure.  A single mistake from the damned woman and she’d be dead and gone forever. However, as unbelievable as it was, even the deadly and powerful Reaper did make mistakes.

When Oxton blinked too close to him, trying to drop one of those troublesome pulse bombs near him, Reyes managed to pull the trigger before she could reach for the device. To their bad luck, the projectiles hit only Lena’s chronal accelerator device, making it malfunction so that the spiky haired woman’s physical form started to flicker.

Gabriel knew he had made a huge mistake when a flash of blinding light engulfed the whole room, him and Tracer included.

“Oh no, not again!” the ex Blackwatch leader could hear the young woman yell as they were pulled into different directions with immense force. But, as impossible as it sounded, Gabriel felt like they were thrown into the stream of time itself with Oxton drifting to the future, while he was sent into the other direction.

Everything went black and the next thing Reaper knew was waking up with the searing pain from Trace’s hits burning his arm and side.

The assassin blinked a couple of times as he stared at the wast blue skies and the couple of large clouds that traveled lazily across it, like there was no worry in the world. The warm summer sun warmed his face and it truly felt like the passage of time had no meaning where ever he was. Reyes could feel the soft lush grass beneath his body and the gentle breeze caress his face. With a soft and tired sigh, Gabriel brought his hand to touch his face when he realized his mask was gone. He felt naked without it.

Where the am I? Reaper wondered as he turned his head slightly, seeing only endless fields of corn and hat. It was a scenery that reminded him of the time shortly after the Omnic Crisis, when he had  visited Jack’s home state with him and Ana.

“You are lying on my family’s field.”

Gabriel could feel his body tense, ready to strike whoever had found him lying here, only to stop when he saw a young child looming over him with angry, scared, but also incredibly worried look in his bright and large blue eyes.

There is no way in hell, Gabriel thought in shock and disbelief as he stared at the young boy that had to be around 9-10 years of age, of all the times and places I have to end up here.

Reyes could feel his red eyes burning with hatred, disgust and disbelief as he gazed at Jack’s younger version who was eying him curiously. He could recognize those blue eyes, facial features and golden blond hair anywhere, not matter what age.

The old assassin wanted to laugh out loud at the fate that seemed to always mock him, but remained silent, choosing to merely watch Jack who was furiously trying to determine and figure out who the stranger lying on his family’s field was-

I guess people don’t really change, do they? So stupid and naive, rushing in with no regards for his own safety, Reyes mused, finding the boy’s bravery almost cute. You have no idea what kind of monsters there are in the world, Jack, Reyes thought maliciously, knowing that the kid probably didn’t think anything bad could happen on his family’s farm, they can anywhere anywhere…anytime to hurt you.

“You know mister, it is still many months till Halloween,” Jack said with a slightly mischievous smile on his face when Gabriel hoisted himself up so that he was supporting his upper body on his elbows.

The ex Blackwatch managed to hold back the sneer, though just barely, cheeky little bastard.

“And aren’t you a bit too old to wear a getup like that?” The boy continued, clearly finding the stranger too out of place to be taken seriously. However, Jack’s behavior quickly changed when Reyes’ red eyes flashed with anger and the kid took few steps backward…not that it would help much. One teleportation and he could have his hands around the kid’s neck.

I almost want to wring Jack’s neck and see the life slowly leave his body, the adult man thought, seething in anger as he stared at the younger version of his friend, lover and enemy who had no idea how horrible, cruel and unfair the world could be. They had so different childhoods.

Gabriel wanted to tear Morrison’s throat open, to see the boy’s terrified expression when the metal talons sank into his flesh so that the kid’s blood would splatter all over his black outfit, painting it red.

Just when he was about to reach for young Morrison’s throat with his hand, Gabriel felt the searing pain on his side, instinctively moving his hand feel the wound Tracer had given him.

Damn it, Reyes thought as he felt the warm blood on his palm, some of it seeping through his fingers and onto the grass beneath him.

The assassin grit his teeth slightly in pain, lifting his gaze to see if the young blond was scared or trying to run away, but much to Reyes’ surprise, the only fear and worry Jack felt was for the man before him.

“Are you alright? Do you need help?” he asked sincerely, making Gabriel stare at him in anger, confusion and disbelief, “You are bleeding! Let me get my father, he..” Jack yelled in surprise when he saw the blood.

“You…” Gabriel let out an almost a feral growl as he reached out with his blood coated hand towards Jack. Before Morrison get any distance between them, the assassin grasped a handful his blond hair, yanking the kid closer to take a good look at him.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?!” Reyes yelled, his face inches from Jack’s. He hated, loathed  the way the younger version of his enemy worried for him. He couldn’t stand it! He wanted Jack to run away in fear or beg for his life, not…not have him worry for his life or be willing to help.

“Let go of me!” the youngster demanded, trying to hit Reyes, but the adult man merely grabbed the kid’s left hand into a vice like grip.

Just when he was about to push the kid down onto the ground, Reaper could feel the time starting to fix itself and pull him back towards the present day.

The dark man with some grey steak in his hair and beard kept his hold tight and studied Jack’s younger version long and hard, trying to decide what he should do before he was sent back.

There was fear in the boy’s eyes, yes, but also anger, determination and a look  that said, “if you don’t let me go now, I will hurt you.”

The old assassin’s eyes narrowed and he glanced downwards, only to sneer at the kid mockingly; Jack had brought a short knife near his heart. Apparently the blond boy had not been as naive as he had believed him to be.

“Next time, don’t hesitate,” Reyes said as he loosened his hold on Jack’s hair and instead trailed his hand down the side of the blond’s face, only to slap him gently on cheek and poke Jack onto forehead with one of his fingers; the talon puncturing the skin and making him whimper slightly in pain.

“Don’t play a hero kid, it will only get you killed,” Reyes sighed, knowing he couldn’t hurt this Jack, even if he wanted to, “I promise.”

“See you later boy scout,” he muttered bitterly as he was pulled back into the stream of time.

I Care – Newt

Request: Can you do a newt imagine where he is your best friend and he finds your scars on your wrist and kisses them and he likes you a lot and you like him too and you guys make out thanks 💕

WARNING: Contains themes and mention of depression and self-harm. Do not read if triggered easily or at all.


You were definitely a pessimist, to say the least. It wasn’t like that was how you chose to think. It was just the way you were. When Minho and Thomas came back from the Maze, happy they’d completed another day of mapping, all you could think of was the fact they hadn’t found an exit yet. When Newt told you his dreams of having a normal family and a normal life, all you could think was that none of you ever would. Because you were trapped. 

As soon as you arrived in the Glade you were told that working got your mind off things. That it distracted you from the sadness. But it didn’t work for you. You still felt it, day in day out. It never went away.

That twitch in the back of your mind that made you anxious and sad and sucked away all of your energy. You couldn’t get up in the mornings without struggling against it. 

You’d had your moments where the pain became all too much. You needed some sort of way to release the tension in your body. That somehow came to the conclusion of stealing one of Winston’s slicing knives, sterilised of course. Each night you’d go and hide out in the Deadheads and draw a single thin line across your wrist. And for a minute, the pain of the cut would distract you from the pain in your own mind. 

But your cure never lasted long, and soon you were going out every night, drawing the thin line back over. You’d keep going up higher and higher against your arm, until your entire forearm had been sliced up. But you weren’t scared of the blood or of the damage. 

What you were scared of was the others seeing what you’d done, and judging you for it. You thought they’d call you weak or narrow-minded. But none of them really noticed when you started to wear your long-sleeved shirt all day, or when you got nervous when they brushed past your arm. 

It’d been like that for about a month. No one had noticed any changes in you, or if they did they just didn’t care. You couldn’t tell whether you looked any different, whether the insomnia or the anxiety was taking its toll on you. 

This night was like any other. You excused yourself from your group of friends and left to go to the Deadheads, discreetly holding the small palm-sized knife in your hand. 

You walked far into the woods, so that no one would find you. Not that they’d bother looking, you thought bitterly. 

You liked the Deadheads. It was secluded and thick, masking you away from the rest of the Glade. You needed that sort of privacy once in a while. 

You sat against a tree towards the direction of the East wall. After pressing your back against the trunk, you uncovered the knife. For a second, you just stared at it, watching the little beam of light gleam against the metal and slide off it once you moved it away from the moon. 

You pulled up your sleeve, your chest feeling heavy at the sight of all the pale, disfigured strips of skin along your forearm. You hated yourself for being so weak. 

You placed the knife against your skin, hesitating a moment, like you always did. You were never really prepared for the pain. Just as you put pressure on the metal and sank it into your skin, a voice rang out.

“Y/N?” someone with a very distinctive English accent called out from the distance. You panicked, pulling the knife away and hiding it behind you. 

You heard the branches snapping under Newt’s feet as he walked in your direction, trying to find you for a reason you didn’t know. Why would he be looking for you? 

You quickly pulled your sleeve down, just as he appeared from behind a bush and spotted you. He smiled as soon as he saw you, and you gave him a weak one in return. 

“Everyone always wonders what you do when you come out here every night. Thought I’d find out,” Newt said, sitting down next to you. 

You shrugged and looked around, trying to find a good excuse. “Just like some time alone, I guess. There’s a nice spot here to see the stars and the moon really clearly.”

You nodded your head up to the opening in the trees above you. It wasn’t a lie, there was a nice spot to watch the stars there. That just wasn’t the reason you were there. 

“You come out here to stargaze by yourself?” he asked, as if he expected some great reality to his questions, like you were a superhero or a Griever in disguise. 

“Pretty much,” you said. “Look,” you pointed up to the sky, “you can see the scorpion right the–”

“What’s that?” Newt asked, cutting you off. He pointed to your arm and looked at it curiously. At first, you weren’t sure what he was talking about, but when you noticed the red stain on the sleeve of your shirt, the blood drained from your face. 

“Uh, it’s nothing,” you said as you pulled your arm down and covered the stain with your hand. 

Newt gave you a serious look, then pulled your arm out and held it. You winced at the contact, making him even more curious. He pushed the fabric away, and was greeted by two dozen white lines and a dried, bloody cut. 

You looked away, unable to look at him. He’s going to hate me, you thought sadly. Newt’s going to hate me

“What’re these?” he asked quietly after a few seconds of harsh, dry silence. 

And even though you were hopeless, you couldn’t help but not tell him the truth. He couldn’t know the truth. “Uh, just work injuries. You know, nothing major.”

“Why are you lying to me? What is this?” he asked with a slightly louder and harsher tone. 

You yanked your arm away and covered it with the sleeve once again. “Who cares anyway? No one – so don’t worry. It’s nothing.”

Newt was quick to latch onto your hand with one of his, and use the other to move your head so that you were looking at him. You tried to keep your eyes to the ground, but you couldn’t help but glance at him a few times. “I care, goddamn it. I care so bloody much and you haven’t even noticed.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Would I be out here looking for you if I didn’t?” he asked, leaning closer to you and refusing to let your hand go. 

“You were just curious is all,” you said, looking away again. 

Newt moved your head once again, but this time his hand lingered on your cheek. He stared at you for a few seconds, seeming genuinely hurt by your remarks, and all you could do was stare back. And it made you feel even worse. 

“I care,” Newt said, before pressing his lips to yours. You were shocked for an instant, unable to react, and unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. 

Part of you just wanted to think that he was kissing you to make you feel better, out of pity was all it was. But at that point, you didn’t even care anymore.

He let your hand go and placed it gently against your waist, while you lay your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. At first, it’d been a gentle kiss, soft and romantic. But as the minutes went by, you found it getting more quick-paced – in the heat of the moment. 

Newt’s hand came up to run through your hair, while you gripped the sides of his face in both hands, as a petty attempt to get him closer to you. He started to lean over you and push you down, so that you were about to lay down on the ground. But just before you did so, he pulled back. 

You were both breathing in deeply, your chests heaving up and down as you regained your breath. 

You sat back up against the tree once more, Newt still beside you, his side pressed against yours. One of his hands ran along your cut arm, while his other moved around your shoulders to hold you close. He drew patterns along your arm through the fabric of your sleeve. 

“No more of this, okay?” he said, turning to stare at you. Under the dim light of the full moon he looked so innocent and naive. “For me.” You nodded, unable to say no. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder. From that moment onward through the night, the two of you sat and enjoyed each other’s company and watched the stars and the moon shining brightly in the night sky. 


i always feel terrible writing about stories to do with self-harm bc i know there are people going through the struggles so i just wanna let all you know that you can talk to me if you need support with no judgment at all xx