#WHY ARE THESE FUCKASS GAUNTLETS SO HARD

[vyvernnn]

im fighting for my fucking life here

[jaceheavendale]

Sorry about the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine 

~Sweet Pea x Reader~

The metallic screech of his locker door being slammed shut resonates in his ears. He narrows his eyes and turns his neck, venom ready at his tongue to confront the person standing next to his locker.

His sour expression quickly morphs to shock, horror, and then a sad blankness upon locking eyes with the sight before him. It’s hard to tell what part is more disturbing, the murderous expression on her face, or the bruises framing her eyes with a busted lip to match. To say that she was pissed would be an understatement.

The last time he had seen her he was playing pool at the Whyte Worm with Fangs, Toni bartending behind them, when she stormed into the bar with a purpose. She wanted to make it official, which was not surprising to anyone. But what was surprising was how she was going to do it.

“You’re really going to get up there on the pole?” Fangs had jerked his jaw in the direction of the infamous stage, sneaking in a panicked look at Sweet Pea, “For everyone to see?”

“No,” her face had twisted into a grimace at the thought, “I’m going to walk the gauntlet.”

Sweet Pea’s stomach had flipped instantly upon hearing those words come out of her mouth. She was going to get wrecked, but he knew he couldn’t stop her. He didn’t have the right to tell her that it was stripping or it was nothing. But he didn’t have to watch it happen. So he didn’t. Instead, he was noticeably absent that night.

“Where were you?” she demands, acid dripping off of every syllable.

For as long as she could remember Sweet Pea was always there. Every moment, monumental or insignificant he had been there. He was the one constant in her life that she thought she could always count on, and the realization that that may not be true anymore hurt worse than any hit the gauntlet could throw at her.

“I was busy,” he replies flatly, avoiding eye contact.

She scoffs in response, bringing her hand up to run through her hair. Her body spins on her heal at a 180 as she shakes her head, balling her hands into fists before dropping them at her sides as she turns back to face him.

“I needed you,” she hisses, “And you couldn’t be there because you were ‘busy’.”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” he sighs.

“I want a real answer as to why my boyfriend was absent on one of the most important nights of my life,” she glares at him as if it should have been obvious, “I thought you would have been proud of me, that I didn’t take the sexist way out."

There’s no good answer here. He can’t come up with a reasonable lie, and the truth makes him look weak. He knows he should’ve been there, if she was strong enough to take the path less traveled then he should’ve been strong enough to support her. But he wasn’t. And that’s a hard truth to reconcile.

“I am proud of you, but I couldn’t do it,” he whispers, “I couldn’t watch this happen.” He gestures to her wounded face, cringing at the sound of his voice. The thought of watching something so brutal happen to someone he loves so much and not being able to do anything about it was intolerable.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she asks, leaning up against the lockers. A sudden tiredness washes over her as the anger begins to dissipate.

“Pride I guess,” he scoffs, shaking his head, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there and I’m sorry I’m not nearly as brave as you are.”

“Thank you, for apologizing. We’ve all have our limits. I just wish you would’ve told me, but we can talk about it more later. I was running on anger, but now I’m just tired,” she says softly.

“How about we skip today and I make it up to you for being such a fuckass?” Sweet Pea smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“That would be irresponsible,” she raises an eyebrow, a faint grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You’re a gang-banger now, get used to it,” he shrugs, taking her hand in his to guide her towards the door. He has to admit, she looks particularly irresistible in that Serpent leather jacket.

“Oh my god,” she laughs, rolling her eyes at him as he smiles down at her, “I must assume my new identity.Good girl gone bad.”

“I’m not sure I would ever have considered you a ‘good girl’,” he muses, thinking of how someone with so much fire and ferocity could fit the good girl stereotype.

“Mildly bad girl gets worse? Badness intensifies?” she offers, squinting her eyes and tilting her head in thought.

“Ya know, lets not worry about the specifics,” Sweet pea chuckles, leaning down to give her a kiss.

“Whoa,” she pulls away, “My lip is all sorts of fucked up. You might get a mouthful of blood.”

“I deserve a mouthful of blood for not being there last night,” he half jokes, but he’s also half serious.

She looks up at him with wide eyes, “I’m definitely mad you weren’t there, but you getting legitimately hurt would not make me feel better.”

“How about you just let me kiss it better instead?” he suggests.

“It’s the least you could do,” she shrugs, already standing on her tip toes in anticipation.

He bends down to softly place his lips on hers. They’re soft as usual, but a rough scab scratches against his lips. She may bruised, but this girl is not fragile. He had always known she wasn’t porcelain, but he was surprised to find that beneath her pretty face and silky hair was steel.

Masterlist

Not my picture (X) or gif (X)