ms. cuts and bruises | e.c
pairing. embry call x f!reader
type. fluff, requested
warnings. female reader, mentions of blood, cuts and being stitched up
a/n. been back on my twilight grind lately... also trying get back to writing more and this scenario struck me with inspiration! if someone has requests, feel free to send them my way!
SUMMARY: if you were to look up the definition of clumsy in a dictionary, you would see a picture of you. despite your best efforts, it almost gives Embry a heart attack every time you get hurt. still he can't help but take care of you. 1.1k!
"We're home!"
You and Emily lift panicked expressions in the direction of Sam's voice. You gaze back down to look at the mess on the kitchen floor. The broken pieces of a jar surround you, as does the flour it contained. The floor is now a minefield of white powder and sharp glass.
You had watched in slow motion the jar fly off the counter after you accidentally hit it with your elbow. You apologized profusely to Emily, who used to your antics as always, had smacked her hand on her mouth to keep from laughing. The time you should have used to clean up was instead spent laughing and reenacting your expression as you tried to catch the pot before it hit the floor.
"Em?" Sam calls again.
"Shit," you mutter as she quickly wraps your hand in a towel.
Right when she is done, Sam turns the corner of the counter you are crouched behind. His eyes quickly consider the mess, while a knowing smile spreads on his face. He's about to make fun of you two, until he notices the towel wrapped around your hand is slowly turning a light shade of red.
"Please tell me Embry's not…" You whisper, hoping your boyfriend took a little longer before coming in. But as it seems, fate is not on your side today.
"Babe?" He appears next to Sam with a soft smile on his lips, like he's been waiting to see you.
His expression turns into a frown when he notices your suspicious attempt at hiding your hand. In a second, he's crouching beside you, eyes roaming wildly on your body, trying to assess the damage.
You try to warn him about the glass, but he blatantly ignores you. Either he doesn’t hear, or he simply doesn’t care, "What happened?"
"I promise it's nothing." You try to reassure him, but Emily's noticeable wince does not help your case.
"First— you are the worst liar in the whole world. Second— you're bleeding enough that I can smell it. Show me." His tone is firm, but never angry.
Shamefully, you present your now soiled, made-up bandage. You hiss softly when he takes it off, his lips forming a tight line when he sees the deep gash in your palm.
"Seth," he calls. "Please get your mom. I think she might need some stitches. Sam, I think you should help Emily out of here. There's glass everywhere, and somebody please get a broom."
You try to get up on your own, but are immediately swept off your feet before you can step on any of the shards littering the floor. "Are you trying to hurt yourself on purpose?" he grumbles before delicately dropping you on the couch.
Sue arrives a few minutes later while the boys are cleaning the mess. "Heard my favorite patient got herself in trouble again?"
Stopping abruptly his sweeping, Embry stares at both of you with furrowed eyebrows. "Your favorite patient?"
A very telling silence falls in the room. The unofficial doctor of the pack sits close to you, her medical kit in hand, with a barely contained smile on her lips.
"Sue's been helping me whenever I get into one of my little accidents," you explain with a lift of your shoulders. You know your clumsiness makes him nervous, but you're used to it, it's no big deal anymore.
Embry watches with careful eyes Sue get her equipment out before he sits down next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back.
When she starts stitching you up, he watches out for any sign of pain, but although your eyebrows are slightly furrowed, you handle it pretty well. "You are way too comfortable with this," he mumbles.
He stays with you the whole time and asks a thousand questions about the risk of infections or if there is anything he should do to treat the wound. Sue gives him disinfectant and instructions on how to clean it, while you swoon at how seriously he is taking this.
He drops back down on the sofa after she leaves. One arm immediately wrapping protectively around your shoulders while his other hand softly grabs your injured one. "I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed by how calm you were about this. That was a gnarly cut."
"Yeah, I guess it was pretty deep. Luckily, there wasn't any debris or jagged edges. It wasn't too bad, it should heal fine."
He listens with astonishment to your methodical assessment of your injury. "Alright, doctor."
"What?" you grin. "I told you, I've been collecting bruises and scars since I was a kid. I can't even remember how many times I needed to get stitches. You learn some stuff after a while."
"I'd rather you stop learning so much, Miss. Cuts and bruises. I get a heart attack every time you get hurt." He’s trying hard not to pout, his eyes focused on your hand while his fingers softly stroke the skin of your wrist.
"I'm sorry, I guess I've never had someone who worried so much about me before," you add softly. Even if you find it funny how worried Embry is, you recognize his concern for what it truly is: unrefutable love.
"Well, now you do, so better get used to it. And if you don't start being careful, I'll have to ask the others to watch you when I'm not around. Get some babysitters to make sure my girlfriend keeps all her fingers and toes." He jokes before booping your nose with a soft kiss. "Oh, and before you say that Emily does watch over you, I'm sorry, but I don't trust her anymore. She's no help when it comes to you."
You both hear an indignant 'hey!' come from the kitchen. "I'm perfectly capable of watching over her," Emily protests as she stands in front of the couch. "Not that she needs it." She quickly adds with a knowing look in your direction.
"I'm sorry, my love," interrupts Sam. "You are usually very capable," he says, setting his hand on her hips. "But she's a bad influence on you."
Emily looks at you with a devilish grin, unable to refute her fiancé. You do make a pretty awful duo, in the best way possible.
"Who knows, maybe one day I'll even be able to stitch myself up on my own. Which means I won't even need a babysitter!"
Your comment immediately makes Emily and Sam laugh. Everyone seems finds the idea very funny, except for the overprotective werewolf sitting at your side.
You can feel the disapproval emanating from him. "Don't you dare," he growls.
You give him a childlike grin and kiss his cheek with a big smack. "Don’t worry, I just like making you nervous."
He rolls his eyes in annoyance, but you know he’s trying his best not to melt right now. He’s got that twinkle in his eyes and keeps staring at you like you are a shining star. "You’re an absolute menace, you know that?"