#EVERYTHING ABOUT IT SCREAMS A BAD! I! DE! A! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whydoyoucare866 · 10 months

Note

Girlll how about Miguel x Hispanic!Wife! Reader and Miguel comes home all beaten up and shit with his suit glitching and she asks what happen and he explains how he chased down miles and she yells at him for beating up a child. Like full on Hispanic mom mode then she gets all soft with him and patches him up and cooks him something nice 😊

YOU WHAT?

omg bettt, sorry this took so long, I wrote it and forgot to save it before closing the app and lost everything 😭

Miguel O’Hara x Hispanic!Wife Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Swear words

You and Miguel had been married for some years, you both met at the spider society, but ever since you got pregnant Miguel became too protective of you and insisted on you taking a break, he didn’t want you to make too much effort and hurt yourself, or even worse, he couldn’t handle the thought of losing another child or losing you, so eventually you gave in to his wishes and took a break.

You were cleaning your house (even though Miguel told you he would do it when he came back) while listening to songs that you’re sure you learnt from listening to them when your mom cleaned when you were younger, you know those sad old lady songs like the ones from Amanda Miguel, Pimpinela, Rocío Dúrcal, and artists like that “Amor, de verdad pareces una señora dolida” (Love, you’re acting like a depressed old lady) Miguel told you once when he came home to you screaming your lungs out to Así No Te Amará Jamás as if you had been through three divorces and four infidelities.

Suddenly your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the door aggressively open and heavy footsteps, you became excited as you knew that Miguel had finally arrived, but when you heard that he was stumbling around and you turned to him you were shocked. You saw your husband covered in bruises and wounds, and his suit was glitching, you hadn’t seen him like that in such a long time, you weren’t even sure that you had ever seen him that bad.

Hearing him groan in pain pulled you out of your shock state and you soon started to realize how messed up he actually looked.

“AY MIGUEL, QUE CHINGADOS TE PASÓ?” (AY MUGUEL, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU?) you asked shocked

“Nothing, im fi-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence without whining in pain

“Ay no, no me vengas con esas mamadas de que no te pasó nada y que no se que chingados, no puedes ni siquiera decir una oración completa y dices esas pendejadas de que estás bien? Yo no soy pendeja y tu lo sabes Miguel, a mi no me ves la cara. Dime que chingados te pasó antes de que yo me entere por mi cuenta.” (Oh no, don’t come tell me that dumb shit of nothing happened, you can’t even finish a sentence and you say that you’re fine? I’m not dumb and you know it well Miguel, you are not lying to me. Tell me what the fuck happened before I find out by my own)

“I already told you i’m fine my love, you don’t need to worry about me, really” he was now sitting down on your couch

You approached him and you now had a clearer view of his wounds “Ay no, mírate cómo estás, no no, estoy bien mis huevos, iiiih, no mames me estás manchando mi sillón, neta si no me vas a decir que te pasó mínimo déjame ayudarte con tus heridas amor” (Look at you, no no, I’m fine my ass, oh my god and you’re staining my couch, if you’re not gonna tell me what happened at least let me help you with your wounds love)

“You really don’t need to, I can do it mysel-“

“Ya cállate, te voy a ayudar porque te voy a ayudar y tu te vas a dejar, y si no te dejas donde vea que se te infectan las heridas vas a ver eh cabrón?” (Just shut up, I’m gonna help you and you’re gonna let me, and if you don’t if I see that your wounds get infected you’re done understood?)

“No te vas a rendir verdad? okay fine you can help me” (You’re not giving up are you?)

“Good, it wasn’t a question” you smiled at him while heading to your bathroom to get your emergency kit which you always kept even if Miguel told you to throw it away or that it wasn’t necessary multiple times.

You came back to your living room and started cleaning Miguels wounds “So, you’re gonna tell me what happened to you or?”

He sighed “Miles..” he said almost whispering

“Hm? say it again? I can’t hear you corazón”

“Miles”

“Miles? as in the kid you told me about?” he nodded

“He couldn’t have possibly done this right? he’s a kid, you said so, tell me the full story”

“He went to HQ, Gwen brought him… he broke a cannon event and destroyed a universe, then I had to tell him”

“About? go on mi cielo, I’m all ears”

He sighed “I had to tell him… about his cannon event”

“Oh… I’m guessing he didn’t take it well” he shook his head

“He wanted to save his dad even if it destroyed the universe, I had to chase him down, I had to tell him that he was an anomaly, Every single spider in the society chased him down and he still beat our asses and managed to escape, I was so close to fucking ending with it once for all”

“YOU WHAT? A ver cielo, déjame ver si entendí, HICISTE QUE UN MONTÓN DE ADULTOS PERSIGUIERAN A UN NIÑO Y DESPUÉS CASI LO MATAS?” (YOU WHAT? Okay, let me see if I understood, YOU MADE A BUNCH OF ADULTS CHASE DOWN A KID AND AFTER THAT YOU ALMOST KILLED THE KID?)

quiet

“Sabes lo que le pudo haber pasado a ese niño?! Que habrías hecho si lo hubieras matado eh?” (Do you know what could’ve happened to that kid?! What would you have done if you had killed him huh?)

“Y/n you don’t understand, he wouldn’t listen to me”

“No, I don’t understand, he’s just a kid Miguel, of course he’s gonna try to save his dad! it’s logic!”

“Then what was I supposed to do huh?!”

“I DONT KNOW, MAYBE NOT TRY TO KILL A KID?”

“Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted what was best for everyone, I didn’t want him to deal with the guilt of making an universe come to an end, I’m so sorry , I promise you that I will try to fix everything” he said sincerely

“You should be apologizing to the kid, not me, but don’t worry as long as you make an effort it’ll be okay, just don’t try to kill kids again, and- oh my god, I didn’t finish cooking your food, okay, ahorita regresó mi amor, y ni se te ocurra moverte” as much as you wanted to be mad, you just couldn’t resist him, you brought him food and continued to heal him until he was as best as he could be.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader smut #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel spiderverse #into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #accross the spiderverse

2K notes · View notes

mrchiipchrome · 7 months

Text

New Girlfriend

W.C. - 1.8 k

prompt 18. -Only I belong with you and only you babe.

prompt 20. -I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.

a/n: 1. I only know how to intrduce myself in Spanish, so excuse if it's wrong, 2. there's a list of prompts linked in my masterlist if you want to request:)

----------------

3 years. You had just spent three damn years loving someone who was willing to chuck all that away in a second. Three wonderful years tarnished in the span of a minute, just because she decided that you weren’t enough for her.

Just because Alexia decided she was bored, of you and of your relationship.

When she just a week ago told you that you were done, over text nonetheless, you simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Everything was going so well, she hadn’t given you any indication of being unhappy whatsoever.

When the shock passed, the despair set in. What could you possibly have done to warrant being broken up with that way? Had you really been that bad of a girlfriend?

The thundering crack of your phone screen hitting the floor marks your breaking point, curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing until nothing more comes out.

You’re not even surprised that she doesn’t return back to the shared apartment you once saw as your home, now everything was just a reminder of her and how she’d been yours only seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks before.

And no matter how much you cry, how much secretly wearing her hoodies tears a hole in your heart all over again, you know that she’s not yours anymore. You’ll never feel her feather light touch late at night again, never feel her lips pressing against yours again, never feel her nails scratching at your back.

Her new girlfriend was so much prettier than you, kinder eyes, glossier hair, better lashes, bigger tits, rounder ass. How could you ever compare to that?

Seeing her face everyday at training had you close to breaking down in tears, every look into your favorite pair of eyes bringing you that much closer to the edge.

The only way for you to not fold in two every single second you spend in her presence, is to outright ignore her.

Something she doesn’t take too kindly to.

Dragging your feet against the floor, you’re instantly reminded of how Alexia used to chastise you for doing that exact thing.

All of a sudden, you can feel your shoulder being pulled on harshly. Stumbling back into the body of the mystery person, you can feel the familiar curves under your fingertips, her fingers clutching painfully at your shoulder.

“Can we talk?” She rasps out, staring into your eyes with an indescribable amount of venom. The way she was looking at you, you’d think you were the one who broke up with her over text.

“No” Pulling your shoulder away from her iron vise grip, she doesn’t even get a glance in her direction.

“No te alejes de mi Y/n, you do not walk away from me.” Her thick spanish accent covers the english words, the once charming zing of her accent now only making you want to throw up.

“There’s nothing to talk about Alexia. You broke up with me over text, you didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes as you threw away 3 years.” Now it was her turn to not look you in the eyes, turning her eyes down to the sidewalk.

“Say something then Alexia, that’s what you wanted to do right, talk.” You see how her lips move but no words come out, almost like she was expecting you to just lay down and admit defeat. Foolish of her.

“Good talk Alexia, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, don’t forget to pick your things up from the apartment.” Turning on your heel, you feel her stare into the back of your head.

“Will you stop being so sour? I broke up with you a month ago, get over it!” She screams after you.

“Are you that far removed from reality Alexia? You think a MONTH heals your heart from being crushed?” You shoot back, in disbelief at her lack of knowledge of feelings.

“Dios mío Y/n, I hope you find peace for yourself” She tells you calmly, feelings spilling into her voice despite her attempt at composure.

“You do know that a new girlfriend ain’t going to fill the void right? She’s not going to love you like I do, like I did, she’s not going to be there for you like I was. When you realize that, you will come crawling back to me.” You spit back at her, equal amount of emotion in your voice as in hers.

When you turn away from her this time, you actually walk away from her and to your car, driving away from her and the argument.

That evening is spent drowning your sorrows in ice cream and Alexia’s old very expensive wine. She wouldn’t miss it, she’s got 1000 other things to worry about.

Foolishly, in your drunken stupor you decided that it was a brilliant idea to agree to a night out with the team…including Alexia.

The anticipation of that Sunday night created a lump of anxiety that sat uncomfortably in your stomach, growing like a balloon being blown up until it fully consumed you.

Foot tapping against the floor, you check your watch for the umpteenth time, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. You were sure that the loose button would manage to come off before Pina and Patri would pull up, the two planning on getting drunk beyond recognition.

Sucking your teeth, you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you hear the loud noise of the car’s horn.

“HOLA Y/N” Patri shouts in your face directly after you’ve sat down in the backseat, the young girl reeking of alcohol.

“Someone’s already started the party, ey?” You get out through a hesitant chuckle, Pina meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror.

Without much fuss, you all get to the venue, though the ball of pure anxiety was settling in your throat uncomfortably. The confidence you had only days ago was long gone, nervous picking at your fingers showcasing that.

When you stepped foot in that bar, the smell of alcohol and far too strong perfume hit your nose, overwhelming all your senses.

Yet everything seems to calm as soon as you catch sight of your ex, simply put she looked out of this world.

No, you tell yourself, I can’t think of her like that anymore.

“Y/n/n let’s go to the bar, I need something to drink!” Pina close to shouts directly into your ear, the young girl clutching onto your right arm like her life depended on it.

You let yourself be pulled along by the two younger girls, setting your body down in one of the barstools, Pina and Patri each hanging off your shoulders. They each order their drinks, waiting for you to do the same.

“Just a coke please” The bartender sent you a quick wink before moving away, Thing 1 and Thing 2 ohhhh-ing loudly.

“Your drinks ladies!” The pretty bartender hands you the glasses, your coke still in its glass container. Before you leave to join your friends, the woman slides you a piece of paper, her number written on it.

The blush stays on your face all the way until you reach the large table, ready to put your bottle down on the table. It seems like a certain someone was waiting for you to rid yourself off it before pulling you away from the rest.

“Hey, leave me alone!” You shout, not having seen the face of your perpetrator, but the nails digging into your arm gave you a slight indication as to who it was.

Next thing you know, you’re being pushed up against a wall, familiar lips locking with your own. Alexia presses her body up against yours tightly, leaving as small of a space between your bodies as she could.

Pulling your lips away from hers, you quickly wipe your sticky lips.

“Alexia, what are you doing?” The absolute disbelief in your voice makes her look at you like you were stupid.

“I saw how that fucking bartender was hitting on you, I had to send her a message. Only I belong with you and only you amor” She’s got a smug smirk on her face, looking back at the stunned bartender.

“No, Alexia, you broke up with me. You don’t get to do that because we’re not together anymore, I am not yours Alexia. I can date and fuck whoever I want, and you can’t do anything about that and it’s your fault.”

Walking away from her, like you’d done only days before, she once again calls out for you.

“You were right, she wasn’t like you. I have no explanation for why I did what I did, but I just want to apologise, it wasn’t…fair of me.” Her pauses between some of the words show how she’s truly trying her best to apologise.

“I want you back Y/n” You couldn’t even lie to her, say that you didn’t want to get back together, because it was the only thing you’d been thinking about these last few weeks.

Sighing, you look at your watch, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the doors. The cold evening air nips at your skin as you start to talk.

“You broke me Ale, and it’s going to take awhile to make up for that. If we’re getting back together then it’s on my terms, okay?” Alexia nods vigorously, she’d clearly do anything to get you back.

“Can I kiss you?” The timidness in her voice has you close to awwww-ing, leaning back against the brickwall while Alexia leans against the railing parallel to you.

Her intense gaze stays on you as you rest your head back against the cold hardened clay, exhaling through slightly chapped lips. The cloud that forms in the air presents the contrast between the warmth of your body and the cold of the night.

“That’s all I want” This time your lips lock in a calm dance, all the feelings of sorrow and longing being expressed in a single kiss.

"How about we get out of here?” Her hands lay flat against your chest, fiddling slightly with the material of your shirt. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Alexia look up at you through her eyelashes.

“Oh, amor I’m driving Thing 1 and Thing 2 home. I promised them I’d stay over at their place and take care of them after.” You kiss her hairline as she herself chuckles.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, she places her head on your chest, the vibrations of the tune you were humming sending her heart into overdrive.

“But we could stay out here for a while instead, I like having you back in my arms.” The only response you get is a kiss pressed to the column of your neck.

It would take a while for Alexia to get you back, it didn’t matter if it took 10 days or 10 years, as long as she got you back.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

593 notes · View notes

lowkeyerror · 7 months

Text

A New Victim

Sam Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually

Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.

Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist

You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.

Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.

Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.

You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.

“You’re friends with my sister, right?”

You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.

Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.

Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”

“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."

Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.

“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”

“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”

Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”

You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”

“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”

Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”

“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.

“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”

Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.

“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”

Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”

“What are you worried about?”

Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”

Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”

“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”

Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.

It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”

You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”

Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”

“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”

Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.

You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”

Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.

“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”

You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”

That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”

You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.

The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.

They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.

Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.

It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.

You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.

Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.

The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.

When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.

You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.

The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.

She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”

You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.

“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”

The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.

Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.

Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.

The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.

The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.

When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.

Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.

“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.

“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”

“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.

“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.

Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”

Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”

Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.

“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.

You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."

It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.

“Who?”

You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.

“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.

Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”

“Ghostface.”

#lowkeyerror #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #anika kayoko #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #ethan landry #quinn bailey

502 notes · View notes

fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Caught In the Crossfire

Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader (both over 18)

TW: violence and guns, blood, injury, angst, I think thats it

Summary: JJ has sworn to protect you no matter what, but sometimes you give him a run for his money.

Word Count:2.6k

Ever since you were kids, JJ has been protective over you. But since the two of you started dating, it only amplified. He's been in more fights than you can count just because a man looked at you wrong and he almost drove you to the hospital over a stubbed toe one night because he was that worried.

He insists that it's not just his job to look out for you, but his privilege. Truthfully you're not complaining. However, that's not to say you can't take care of yourself. Anyone who really knows you knows that you're not to be fucked with.

When it comes to your friends, and especially JJ, you've been known to make reckless decisions if they're in danger. You and JJ only have each other, and there's nothing that either of you wouldn't do for the other.

He's been a constant in your life since you were four years old, and the two of you have found solace in each other over the years amid your shitty home lives. It's no secret that you'd take a bullet for each other, he stepped in front of a shotgun that was pointed at you once.

Which is exactly why you're in your current situation.

This whole thing is stupid, honestly. Barry got some bad intel, now convinced that one of you stole from him again. You may not be the brightest group, but you're not dumb. You wouldn't make that mistake twice.

"Give me my fucking money, or somebody is going to die."

Barry's voice is hoarse as he screams and your wide eyes lock with Sarah's. Everyone has their hands up defensively, and you stand helplessly next to Kie and Sarah as John B tries to de-escalate.

"Barry, we didn't do it. I swear."

The man isn't willing to listen to reason and time moves in slow motion as he pulls out a black handgun and points it directly at John Bs chest. You vaguely register Sarah screaming to your right but you're frozen in place as everything unfolds.

That is until you see JJ step up. He puts his body between the barrel and his friend, standing less than ten feet away. A wicked smile overtakes Barry's face and your stomach drops.

"Looks like we have a volunteer."

It's like a movie as the world seems to stop spinning, and that protective instinct takes over. You see the switch in Barry's eyes and your gaze darts to his finger twitching on the trigger. He's going to pull it this time.

Your fight or flight takes control, and you've never been one to run. Within seconds you're shoving JJ behind you. He's taken off guard, unable to stop you despite his notable size advantage. Turns out that when you're flooded with adrenaline you have hulk strength.

Barry chuckles darkly and tilts his head to the side.

"Makes no difference to me."

You're fighting JJ now, the two of you shoving against each other. He's about to pick you up and move you, but it's too late. It's only a span of maybe twenty seconds between you stepping forward and the flash of the muzzle.

Everything happens so fast, it takes you a moment for your brain to catch up. There's a loud bang that causes your ears to ring, followed by a searing pain in your abdomen. Everything stops for a moment as Barry speeds off and the group processes.

Nobody realizes you've been shot you realize; they're all breathing sighs of relief and talking about how scary it was. In their defense, you're standing still like you're okay and not screaming the way you always imagined you would if you were shot.

"Thank god his aim is shit." John B jokes, and everyone but you laughs.

Sarah and JJ seem to notice at the same time, their eyes widening in concern as they stare at you. It's only been thirty seconds, not enough time for the damage to fully reveal itself to them.

Your hand comes down to your stomach as you feel something warm and you stare down at your blood-covered fingers. Your brain is struggling to keep up, unable to formulate a response to your now panicked boyfriend.

"Baby, are you okay?"

You're turned sideways, angled just enough that he can't fully see you. You always thought something like this would be more dramatic; maybe take more time. Turns out, it only takes about two minutes.

JJ hasn't even had a chance to lovingly scold you for putting yourself in harm's way. You feel like you've been standing still with warm blood seeping through your shirt for hours, but in reality, it's only been a minute and a half.

Sarah goes to reiterate the question, but you're not listening. Your ears are ringing; from the gunshot or blood loss, you aren't sure. JJ watches as you sway a bit and his entire world comes crashing down as your knees give out and you collapse in a heap.

JJ is on the ground next to you in an instant, the rest of the group quickly following when they realize something is wrong.

His eyes are swimming with fear as he looks you over and bile creeps up his throat when he sees the crimson liquid pooling on the ground around you.

What ensues next is nothing short of chaos as JJ cradles your head and starts barking orders.

"JB put pressure on that! Sarah, call 911 and tell them we need an ambulance. Pope, Kie, go find anything we can use to slow the bleeding!"

Everyone scrambles to do as he says, not daring to question the man or hesitate for even a second. You've never seen JJ in such an intense situation, and the way he completely takes control with an even voice takes you by surprise.

You cling to the thought as you try to stay awake and wonder how much worse this will hurt when the adrenaline wears off.

You feel your eyes getting heavy, and despite your best efforts to pry them open they still start to flutter. You're hit with the realization that you're dying in the arms of the man you love, and a tear slips out the corner of your eye.

There's so much to do; you're not ready to go.

"Hey, I need you to stay with me, baby. Keep your eyes open for me."

You blink a couple of times, trying to fight off the blackness encroaching on your vision.

"I'm trying."

Your voice is weak; JJ can tell you're using all your strength just to mutter out the two simple words. He gives you a watery smile as salty tears drip onto your face.

"I know, you're doing so good."

Your lip quirks up a bit and his heart soars, false hope filling his chest.

"I'm gonna miss you. Will you miss me?"

Despite being only half conscious, the words come out crystal clear and JJ kisses the back of your hand.

"I'd miss you so much, but we don't have to worry about that okay? You're gonna be fine and we're gonna live a long happy life together. They'll kick us out of the nursing home."

Your sight is blurry now as you stare up at him, and your body is trembling violently.

"I'm scared."

JJ chokes down a sob and kisses your sweat-covered forehead.

"I know, sweet girl. I'm right here, you're going to be okay. I'll keep you safe."

He can barely speak now as his throat closes up and he notices you go limp.

"Y/N? Baby squeeze my hand, give me something. Anything."

He's begging and when you don't respond, all his composure falls away. Kie is back with a hand full of towels and JJ checks the pulse on your neck, barely feeling it against his fingertips.

"Kie, do CPR!"

She does as she's told and JJ can faintly hear sirens approaching. He watches your face for any sign of life and shoves Kie to the side when he finds none.

"You're not doing it hard enough!"

All of his training from being a lifeguard two summers ago comes rushing back as he puts his weight on your diaphragm.

"JJ, you gotta stop man."

Pope and Sarah are trying to pull him off as he openly sobs now, every muscle in his body straining against their hold.

"I can't lose her!"

His arms cradle your body as he holds you to his chest, wails ripping from his lungs.

"Please wake up. I still need you."

He doesn't even register the ambulance pulling up before he's ripped away from you. He watches as they work on you and load you up into the back before speeding off.

Everyone is quick to hop in the Twinkie, taking off like a bat out of hell in the direction of the hospital.

JJ is crying into Kie's shoulder in the backseat, everyone battling their own sorrow and tears.

His hands feel sticky as your blood dries on them and he's suddenly painfully aware of the rust-colored stains littering his entire body and clothes. He can smell the metallic scent of iron and it makes his stomach turn.

JJ doesn't even wait for the car to stop before jumping out and sprinting into the ER. He's sure he looks like a madman with crazed eyes and blood-stained skin, but he doesn't care.

If you die, you'll have sacrificed yourself to save him. That's simply not knowledge he's capable of living with, and he needs to know you're going to be okay.

The receptionist looks like a deer caught in headlights as her eyes rake over his form and he skips the niceties altogether.

"I'm here for my girlfriend, she was just brought in with a gunshot wound."

His words slur as he blurts them out and after a second she puts it together and gives him a sympathetic look.

"She's in emergency surgery, sir. There's no update yet, I'm sorry."

His hands slam against the counter and the woman who looks to be only a couple years older than him flinches.

"That's not good enough!"

She's about to respond when he feels a pair of hands on his shoulders yanking him back.

"I'm sorry about him, he's under a lot of stress."

She nods with a weary smile and John B forces him over to a chair.

"You're not doing anyone any good if you get kicked out."

It's dark by the time a doctor comes with any news, several hours having passed.

As soon as he hears your name called, JJ leaps to his feet and rushes over.

"Are you the boyfriend?"

JJ nods and the doctor sighs.

"She lost a lot of blood. The bullet just barely missed an artery, a millimeter to the left and this would be a different conversation. We did a transfusion and were able to repair the damage. She's got a long road to recovery, but she'll be just fine."

JJ nearly collapses at the revelation and he feels four pairs of hands holding him up.

"Applying pressure to the wound and providing CPR saved her life. You did good, son."

JJ nods, unable to speak and John B asks what they're all thinking.

"Can we see her?"

The doctor ponders for a moment before nodding.

"It's after visiting hours but given the circumstance, I'll make an exception. Only one of you though. The rest can come back at 8 am during regular hours."

It doesn't even need to be discussed and JJ follows the man silently. Nerves claw at his throat as he nears a door and he mentally prepares for what's on the other side.

Part of him thinks this is a cruel joke and that you're really gone. He won't be able to breathe until he sees you with his own two eyes.

"She's still unconscious. She'll probably be disoriented when she wakes up, but we've got her on heavy painkillers. She shouldn't feel much discomfort."

The doctor pats him on the back before leaving and he takes a deep breath while pushing the heavy door open.

Relief washes over him when he sees your sleeping figure on the bed. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he just walked into your room while you were napping.

His eyes take in your appearance and fresh tears sting his waterline.

Your face looks peaceful but there's oxygen in your nose and IVs sticking out of your bruised arms.

All things considered, you don't look too bad but his heart still breaks. Guilt eats at him and in typical JJ fashion, he blames himself.

He should have known you'd try to interfere and stopped you. He failed at his one-sworn duty, and it almost got you killed.

His hand laces with yours as he sits in the chair at your bedside. He lets his head rest against your arm and just memorizes your scent and the feeling of your soft skin.

Even though the strong aroma of iodine and hand sanitizer you still smell like cotton candy.

He almost lost this. And he can't fathom never hearing your laugh again or seeing the way your nose scrunches when you get frustrated with him.

He dozes off and a few hours later he's awoken by your body shifting under him. He wipes the drool from his mouth and looks up to see your eyes moving rapidly.

He's watched you sleep enough times to know you're about to wake up and leans up to kiss your forehead.

You blink a few times trying to place your whereabouts. The room is still dark because of the curtains, but you know it's foreign.

The sterile tinge of alcohol burns your nose and your face scrunches up when you feel all the wires attached to you.

"Am I in the hospital?"

Your voice is raspy from lack of water and JJ nods.

"Yeah, you gave us quite a scare."

You roll your eyes playfully, and JJ thinks that even in the pale light coming from the machines you look ethereal.

"You know me, I've got a flair for the dramatics. Gotta keep it interesting."

JJ lets out a laugh and you smile brightly at the man you love.

A thick air covers the two of you and you squeeze his hand.

"I was so scared. I thought you were going to die."

Your heart clenches at how small he sounds and your hand reaches up to cup his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I don't regret doing it, but I do regret causing you pain."

His head turns to press his lips to your palm and he lingers for a moment before pulling back just slightly.

"I'm not mad. It's my job to protect you, just maybe don't give me so much overtime."

He has a teasing smile on his face and you can't help but laugh. It's silent for a beat before you speak again.

"This place is definitely haunted."

JJ stares at you for a moment and chuckles.

"Oh, for sure."

He pauses for a second then lurches forward.

"Boo!"

You gasp and slap his arm, playful disapproval on your face.

"Don't do that!"

You're interrupted by a knock on the door and look over.

"Hey, there she is!"

You're greeted by the rest of the pogues and open your arms for a hug. They each take turns embracing you, being careful of your injuries, and take a seat.

"So, did you see a white light?"

Sarah kicks John B with a scolding glare and you giggle.

"It's okay. No, mostly just blinding pain and then darkness."

JJ looks down and you can tell it's hard for him to hear.

"Enough about that, tell me something funny."

The group dissolves into conversation and laughter, a smile on your face as you look at your found family.

"I'm so happy you're okay." JJ whispers and you look over at him.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Maybank."

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #outer banks #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine

2K notes · View notes

bunnie-online · 7 months

Text

desperate boy. {A.S.}

pairing: sub!Anakin Skywalker x dom! fem reader

MINORS DNI. THIS IS 18+

summary: after not seeing you for weeks, Anakin can't wait to feel you again.

warnings: femdom, slight humiliation kink, teasing, orgasm denial.

word count: 1,059

Anakin was so far gone. His mind was betraying him while he was trying to fly himself and Obi-Wan back to the Jedi temple safely. He knew that he was going to see you soon, every time he tried to think about something wholesome, thought of you bent over, panting and screaming his name flooded his thoughts. It was a painfully long flight home, trying to keep himself at bay, figuratively and literally. As soon as the speeder touched down, Anakin basically sprinted from the landing pad to your room. To his surprise you were there waiting for him. He nearly knocked you over when he embraced you, squeezing you tightly. "Oh.. How I've missed you." He whispers huskily, making you shiver.

"Anakin, wait until we get into my room, we could be caught!" You giggle, Anakin nipping at your neck started to tickle. He opens your door with the Force, and backs you into your own room, his body never leaving yours. He backs you into a wall. "Ani.. Ani..." you gasp in between Anakin's impatient kisses. "Anakin!" you say sternly. He jumps. You can feel the goosebumps form on his skin. "You need to learn how to wait." Your voice low and seductive. You place you hands on his chest and move him backwards. His gorgeous blue eyes are blown out, widened with surprise. " 'm sorry" he slurs his words, already drunk off the pleasure that he has yet to receive. "You're going to do everything I say. Understood?" you gaze into his eyes, making your place known. "Y-Yes. I understand." he stutters out, but still nods obediently. "Kneel." you command. He drops to his knees, no questions asked. His eyes almost tearing up, awaiting your next command. You waltz around him, circling him like he's your personal, pretty prey. Anakin is basically shaking in anticipation. "Now, do you think that coming in here, forcing yourself upon me like a depraved horny being, makes you a good boy?" You ask, trailing you pointer finger along his jawline, forcing him to make eye contact with you. He shakes his head in shame. "Words, Anakin." you reprimand him. "No. It doesn't." his voice barely above a whisper. "And bad boys don't get what they want, do they?" you look down on him, your eyes darkening. "No... they do not." he was so delectably embarrassed, his arousal begging to be set free. "So. You're gonna listen and be a good boy, okay? Then I'll think about giving you what you want." an audible whine comes from him as soon as you finish your sentence. "I'll be good! I'll listen! I promise!" his voice is slightly pitched up, desperation dripping off of every single word. "Ah ah ah... Too eager. You need to wait, baby." you stroke his cheek, earning another whine from the very pretty boy kneeling in front of you. "Can't wait anymore" his voice cracks. "Need you, need to cum, please, it's been so long." He's almost in tears. Your heart (and other parts) aches for him, poor thing, he probably didn't touch himself the whole time he was gone, he's probably gonna burst soon. You get down on his level, joining him on the floor. "You've been so pent up, huh?" you take his face into both of your hands. He nods frantically. "Mhm! Haven't cum in so long, was waiting for you." tears of embarrassment and frustration well up in his eyes. "Oh you poor baby." You say, your voice feigning sympathy. "I'm gonna help you, okay Pumpkin." your voice sounded sweet, but your intentions are nothing but sinister. "Oh thank you, thank you." he repeats, already panting heavily. "Stand up, pretty boy." you order. He stands, his legs shaking from the adrenaline and anticipation. You couldn't ignore his arousal if you tried. It made the heat between your thighs grow more and more unbearable. You can't give in now though, how will your impatient, desperate boy learn his lesson? You can't reward his behavior. He has to learn. "Lean against the wall." you command him. He steps behind you, to switch your places. You turn around, still on your knees. "Be good for me, Ani." your voice low and commanding, making the man before you shiver. His voice caught in his throat, only leaving him to nod. You pull his pants down, suddenly, causing him to gasp, he looks away, his face suddenly crimson red. "Oh~ would you look at that. My boy is so sooo needy, hm?" you lean in and place a kiss on his left thigh. "Ohh" he groans, having you so painfully close to where he wants you, resisting the urge to grab your hand and place himself inside it.

"pleasepleaseplease" He whispered frantically as you continue to plant kisses all over his thighs and pelvis, actively avoiding his cock. "Still so desperate." you lightly graze your index finger along his shaft, stopping at the tip. "Ah! Please I'm too sensitive for this" he whines.

"Oh, I'm sorry, handsome. I shouldn't tease should I?" You plant another kiss right next to the base of his dick. Earning a whine, paired with a thrust of his hips. You decided to give in... for now,

You wrap you hand around him, stroking up and down while maintaining eye contact with him, until his roll into the back of his head. He's moaning loudly, his body spasming every once and a while. He wasn't lying when he said he was sensitive. "Aw Ani. I haven't even done anything yet." you laugh. His face flushes once more, he hide in his hands. You decide to push the limits and put him in your mouth. He got louder, his hands moving from his face to your hair. "Ah! No no no I'm so close already. Fuck!" he moans, you're convinced the entire Jedi temple can hear him, that spurs you on. You pick up your pace. "B-Babe. Baby! If you don't stop, 'm gonna cum!" he cries out. You take this as your sign to pull off of him. "Well if you say so." You wipe your mouth with your thumb, never breaking eye contact with him. You stand up. "W-Wait no! Wait don't stop!" His voice breaks, you could've sworn a tear rolled down his cheek. "Remember, Anakin. Only good boys get what they want."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahhh this was my first time writing in a WHILE, let alone writing smut AHHH i'm sorry if this is ass

~ bunnie!

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #smut #smut writing #sub!anakin #dom!reader #bunnie online!#hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen

660 notes · View notes

multifariousqueer · 10 months

Text

Miles G x Done! Reader

A/n: I’ve had this idea to finish this so this is gonna be the last part of this story. Once again, requests are closed but nice comments are appreciated 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Warnings: Yandere behavior, arguing, strong language, Stockholm syndrome, mentions of starvation and your circulation being cut off(very brief at the end), kidnapping, toxic behavior, violence, mentions of blood and bruises, lmk if I missed one

You felt a strong pair of arms grip your being as you struggled for freedom. Every thought you had somehow left your mind and new thoughts took their place, most of them being about how you were gonna get out of this when suddenly, everything was dark and you heard a familiar voice:

“You thought you could escape me Mami?”

~~~

When you awoke, you were in a cold room that felt almost sterile yet it felt like someone had tried to make it homey. A punching bad stood in the corner and it seemed you were in a wear house.

You dawned a leg chain as if you were an animal and you were wearing an outfit that had been long abandoned. Your hair felt puffier and you realized it was in the style you had when you left him(or so you thought).

The lights flickered on as you grimaced and the sound of fluorescent lighting buzzing and filling your ear and you attempted to shield your face in a last stitch effort to give yourself comfort in such an uncomfortable environment. His figure stalked through the door slowly as he glared at you. He was wearing his usual Prowler attire while dawning the same necklace you two had as a symbol of your long forgotten love.

Miles stalked closer as you tried to shuffle away knowing what was to come. Tears slipped down your cheeks as he put his hand on your cheek and wiped the tears away.

“Hola, mi amor. I understand these aren’t the best circumstances for us to reconcile but it still serves its purpose” he said

“Fuck you you insane bastard” you said lowly

“Such strong language for someone in such a weak position” he smirked

“What do you want?” You questioned

“You. It’s always been you”

“Why do you want me after all this time? I’ve changed I’m not the same anymore, Miles” you tried to convince him

“Just because you move to a new state which wasn’t far enough cuz I was still able to get you, and change your fits and hair doesn’t mean you’re any different, y/n. I get it, I haven’t been the most attentive or even the best boyfriend but I’m still yours and you’re still mine.”

“That’s not true. You hid being the prowler from me, you isolated me from my family, friends, everyone that cared about me” you said

“Because I love you, Y/n. When will you understand that? You wanted me so badly and now you have me.” He smirked crouching to your level

“I wanted you before I knew how much of a wackjob you were” you said, trying to scoot away from this monster

“Did you really just say ‘wackjob’ ma?” He laughed like it was Kevin Heart in front of him

“YES I DID BECAUSE THATS WHAT YOURE ARE!!” You screamed. Miles didn’t even flinch and instead just smiled

“Mama I’m not a ‘wackjob’ I’m your man and no amount of shitty hair dye and new clothes can change that” he said

“I hate you Miles Morales” You cried

“You’ll grow to love me just as you once did, Y/n. Just give it time” he said before getting up and leaving

“Oh and Ma?” He asked but you didn’t answer

“I left you some sopa de pollo because I know how tired you must be. And if it’s not gone by the morning, I’ll make you eat it in front of me and” he said before leaving one fluorescent light on and leaving the room. Leaving you with chicken soup and in tears.

The next day he uphold his promise and made you eat by forcing you to swallow it and spoon feeding you:

“I’ll feed you every meal, Chiquita if that’s what it’ll take for you to love me again” Miles said

“It’s gonna be a lot of meals before that happens” you joked

Miles smiled as he saw a sliver of your personality shined through. He always adored your humor and your wit and took this as a sign you’d be back to normal within no time.

The next three weeks we’re both grueling and miserable yet somewhat Euphoric. Starving wasn’t an option since he would spoon feed you(which you started eating yourself) and neither was hoping your circulation would cut off because he padded the leg cuff. Although lately, he would give you “breaks” which meant he let you walk around the warehouse a bit. You started joking more and being more open and Miles couldn’t be happier.

He started staying with you longer and cuddling with you now that trust was built up again and he felt like you were back to how you were before. He adored you and would do anything for you. If you had a cold, he would get you meds and nurse you back to health; if you had a food craving, he would get it in a heartbeat. It even got to the point of you taking care of Miles yourself.

Sometimes he would come in with cuts and bruises and you would gently nurse him back to health and clean his cuts with the little first aid kit he gave you. It felt so weird to be falling for him again and suddenly you felt like the first time you met him. It took months to crack his shell but once you did, it was over for you.

Perhaps it was the Stockholm Syndrome, maybe the lighting or maybe the fact that he went this far to care for you that made you start to love him once more.

~~~

619 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 3 months

Text

what was I made for? - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader (continuation of keep her safe) The aftermath of War Games has you questioning your purpose, and what your signet truly is. wc: 4.4k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS (I have 50 pages left, but I just can’t do it. send help.) canon-level violence, injury, canon character death, self doubt, anxiety. oops, I made Dain tolerable again. angst, then happy, then more angst. I also skipped over a smut scene / just made a reference to it happening, so if anyone wants that as a separate post, lmk and I can make it happen 👀 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on part 1! it means a lot to me 🫶

Riorson House is more your home than Basgiath ever has been, but it’s become foreign to you in the three years you’d spent at the college. It feels like you’re hallucinating as you wander the halls.

Maybe everything that’s happened in the last few days has been a hallucination -- it wouldn't be the first time Varrish or Carr had pushed you to delirium with the amount of pain you’d taken for others.

Maybe it’s a dream. That’s it. A really bad dream. Any moment now, you’re going to wake up in Garrick’s bed and get ready for morning formation, and you’ll forget the sight of Liam dying by breakfast, when you’re sitting across from him at the table like you always do. Violet’s screams of pain will stop playing in your ears, replaced by her laughter at one of Ridoc’s jokes.

But no matter how much you pinch at your skin, you aren’t waking up. This is reality.

“I hear you’re a mender, too,” someone says in a gentle voice, bringing you out of your daze. Violet’s brother, Brennan.

“Does it ever get easier?” You ask quietly. “Does it always hurt this much?”

“Mending becomes easier. Seeing that kind of stuff every day doesn’t,” he replies, and the exhausted look on his face tells you he’s being honest. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me more about that.”

“The second person I mended was a scribe who’d fallen from a ladder in the library and broken her leg. I did everything right, the bone set properly, but my leg hurt for a week, right where she’d broken hers.”

Brennan is silent, letting you continue.

“They broke Garrick’s arm in RSC. I was able to fix it for him, and I took the pain, but they broke it again two hours later. I mended him and Xaden over and over until I collapsed. I didn’t wake for two days. They both still think it was just exhausting for me. They don’t know about the pain.”

The tears are coming openly now, dripping down your cheeks, and you bring a hand up to wipe them away with the sleeve of your flight jacket. “But it isn’t all bad. I couldn’t save Liam, but I was able to make him more comfortable in the end. I took his pain away, and let him go in peace.”

You don’t tell him what death feels like. No description you could give could adequately prepare anyone for the cold sensation that still lingers in your chest. It will likely remain there for the next few days.

“Hey,” he says softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, just try to get some rest.”

You nod quietly, looking back up at him. “Can someone please tell Garrick that I’m okay?” You ask in a small voice, folding your hands in your lap. You’d been heartbroken to realize that the rest of the squad had left for Basgiath before you woke, leaving you here alone.

You didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them, and you don’t know when you’ll see them again. Or if you’ll see them, you think, but you push the thought away quickly. They’ll survive. They have to.

Brennan cracks a smile - everyone in the rebel cause is aware of how deeply Garrick loves you. “Of course.”

———————————————————————

“Cadet Mairi died alongside his dragon, who was attacked by a drift of Gryphon riders. Cadet Avan attempted to mend them, and died trying,” Xaden says levelly, staring down the group of professors on the dais. “They both died honorable, but preventable deaths.”

Garrick knows Xaden is lying, knows you aren’t dead — or you hadn’t been when they left for Basgiath, at least, but his friend’s words have him on edge. Have you woken up yet?

Chradh speaks into his mind, sending a wave of hot rage through him. “Relax.”

“Relax?” He echoes, irate. “You’re telling me to relax right now, when-”

Chradh doesn’t bother to argue with him. “She is safe under the care of the silver one’s brother, where she will remain until the moment is right. It is better this way. She won’t be in pain anymore.”

Chradh doesn’t elaborate further. Fucking dragons and their constant need to speak in riddles.

The rest of the quadrant spends the night drinking and congratulating themselves on surviving, but Garrick doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol. The three of you were supposed to do this together. It wouldn’t be right to celebrate without you.

———————————————————————

“We’re gonna start from square one, with something that can’t hurt you,” Brennan says, placing two halves of a cracked plate on the table in front of you.

It’s simple enough to make the pieces rise into the air, using the same magic required to make a pen write for you. You concentrate, willing the halves to fuse together. They touch, and you think you’ve done it, your heart leaping, only to fall as they crash back down to the table again, splitting into even more pieces.

Brennan touches one of the shards, and they glue themselves back together perfectly; no cracks, no trace of the plate ever having been broken. “That’s what I thought.”

“Let me keep trying,” you begin, heart pounding. Brennan can’t think you’re a failure, not this early.

“You could sit here with this plate all day and it wouldn’t change,” he says gently, confirming what you know deep down. “I don’t think you’re a mender. I think you’re something else entirely.”

You sit with the information for a moment.

“Signets take the form of our base need as a person,” he says. “We need to find out what that is for you.”

You already know. “I wake up every day grateful that Xaden bargained for our lives, but I have done too much harm in my time at Basgiath. The crown has done too much harm to Tyrrendor. All I’ve ever wished for is to fix that, to undo the pain.”

“To undo the pain, or to help move forward and grow?” He asks gently.

You aren’t sure.

———————————————————————

You go through your morning stretches, as always, focusing on your breath to distract from the pain in your side.

“Your mate has returned.” Tab says, interrupting. “Thought you’d like to know.”

You bolt upright, running through the house toward the gates, bypassing Xaden to sprint straight toward Garrick.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You still fit together like puzzle pieces, even after months apart.

“You’re alive,” you breathe. “Nobody would tell me anything, I was worried sick,”

“Of course I’m alive, angel. Had to come back to you.”

You trace the Lieutenant’s patch across his collarbone, memorizing the shape. It looks natural on him, like it’s always been there. It sounds good, too. Lieutenant Garrick Tavis.

“I need to tell you something,” you say quietly, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about-“

Footsteps approach. “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Felix says, “but Avan, we need you.”

There’s something in his tone that has your heart pounding. Which of your friends is it going to be this time?

“Tell me later,” Garrick says. “Go. Do what you were made to do.”

You know he means well, but his words tie your stomach in a knot. What you were made to do. Were you truly made to endure the suffering of others?

———————————————————————

Every muscle in your body feels like it’s on fire as you slump into a chair, sitting down for the first time that day. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get some sleep before you’re needed again.

“There you are. I didn’t see you in battle brief.” Garrick says, relieved.

“Haven’t been going,” you mumble. “They need me here. Bren’s teaching now, so s’ just me and one other mender.”

He realizes no healers had come with the riot from Basgiath. You likely haven’t left the infirmary since they’d arrived.

“Come to bed,” he coaxes softly. “You need sleep. You can't pour from an empty cup.”

Yes, you can. You have been for months.

He takes your hand, not giving you a choice. You lean into him as he leads you up the grand staircase to a room near Xaden’s. Your muscles protest every step, but you keep quiet.

You haven’t been in here for years, not since you’d left for Basgiath as candidates, but it’s exactly the same as you remember; dark drapery, bookshelves, a neat display of the knives that he hadn’t taken to school with him.

The sight has you in tears.

“Whoa, hey,” he says softly, pulling you closer, and you whimper in pain at the pressure against your ribs. He lets go immediately. “Angel, I’m sorry — are you hurt?”

You sob, the dam finally breaking and grief flooding out of you. You haven’t seen each other since that horrible day, you haven’t seen anyone from the squad you went with to Resson, haven’t had anyone to talk about it with, until now.

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t save Liam. I tried, I really did. All I could do was take his pain away.”

So Xaden had told Basgiath the truth, to some degree: you tried to fix Liam, and couldn’t. The boy’s death had hurt you badly enough that Xaden wouldn’t let you return to the school.

“There was nothing else you could do. Nobody could save him, not after Deigh…”

“I know that, but it wasn’t just him. Everyone I’ve ever… fixed, I’ve taken the pain from their body into mine, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”

Garrick’s heart breaks. So that’s what Chradh meant when he said you wouldn’t be in pain anymore if you left Basgiath. Those eight-hour days of mending infantry may as well have been torture for you.

Torture. RSC. You’d healed his wounds, Xaden’s, Bodhi’s, Violet’s, time and time again without complaint, and he knew it took a lot out of you, but not that it hurt. “Angel, why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known…”

“I wanted to,” you sniffle, “I wanted to tell you a year ago when it started happening. I thought it was normal, that I was just weak, until Brennan told me that this doesn’t happen to him. He just gets tired, like everyone else does when they use their signets too much.”

You try to steady your breathing, but the pain in your not-broken ribs is too overwhelming. “I’ve spent hours practicing and I can’t even fix a broken plate. I’m not a mender. I don’t know what I am. Nobody does, not even the professors. Brennan thinks it’s getting better, but I don’t have it in me to tell him that it isn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He wants to pull you into an embrace, wants to stroke your hair and tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.

“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.

“But it’s not yours, either,” he reminds you gently. “You’re so strong, angel. You crossed the parapet, ran the gauntlet, you bonded a dragon, and you’ve endured everything else. Please don’t ever think for a second that you’re weak.”

He takes your hand in his, watching your face carefully, but you don’t wince at the touch. “We’ll talk to Brennan tomorrow, together. For now, I just want you to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod silently, having run out of tears.

“Attagirl.”

As you settle into bed next to him, freshly showered and wearing one of his warm sweaters, you swear the pain has dimmed.

———————————————————————

When Garrick takes you to see Brennan the next morning, he isn’t alone. Your professors are seated beside him, along with some of the Tyrrish elders.

Devera speaks first. “We owe you an apology, Cadet Avan. The faculty was unaware that Carr and Varrish were using your signet as a method of punishment, or that it pains you to use it.”

“And I owe you an apology,” you say quietly. “I should have come back after the War Games.”

“That was my decision,” Xaden says firmly, “and I stand by it. She was in no condition to return to the school, much less to graduate and be stationed at an outpost across the continent from her support system, while still feeling the coldness of Cadet Mairi’s death.”

How does he know that you could feel it? Had you told him in your delirium? Had Brennan told him? Had you even told Brennan?

“Your friends have effectively plead your case, and we agree that you have satisfied all the requirements for graduation from the Rider’s Quadrant.” Emeterrio says. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

Garrick slips your flight jacket onto your shoulders, and you notice the Lieutenant insignia has already been sewn on, to match his. When did he…?

You accept the handshake Devera offers you, still a little dazed, but there’s one more order of business to address.

“May I rejoin my old squad?” You ask the table of professors quietly. “They are family to me. I would like to ride with them again, and aid them however I can.”

They exchange hesitant looks, and your heart sinks. Do they not think you’re good enough?

“I don’t see why not,” Brennan says firmly enough for everyone else to agree — he outranks the professors with the years he’s been part of the movement.

You exhale in relief.

Garrick cheers. “The dream team is back, baby!” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, knowing you’re still in pain, but wanting to hold you close.

You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.

Xaden is unimpressed. “When have we ever once called ourselves the dream team?”

“We haven’t, but I’m starting now. It’ll stick. I’ll have it embroidered on your flight jacket, Xay.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Xaden replies, setting off a brotherly argument behind you.

You look to the leadership once more, bowing your head in respect. “Thank you. For everything.”

Devera gives you a warm smile. “I am glad to see you have found your place here, Lieutenant. Remember that your empathy is a gift, even in times of war.”

Empathy.

“Am I dismissed?” You ask.

“Yes, Lieutenants, you are all dismissed,” Emeterrio answers dryly, looking over your shoulder at Garrick and Xaden. The latter has the former in a playful headlock, messing up his hair.

“Human boys,” Tab says, exasperated. You laugh in agreement, leaving them in the Assembly room to sort themselves out.

It’s easy enough to find who you’re looking for — he’s the only person sitting completely alone in the mess, a textbook open in front of him that he isn’t reading. He’s gazing into the distance, eyes unfocused, but he looks up when he realizes you’re standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “about what I saw in Varrish’s office. I had no idea how much you all have endured. What we are taught in Navarre is only one side of the story, but you showed me the other.”

“I’m glad I could help change your mind.”

He reaches into the pocket of his flight jacket and extends a hand. Your protection rune sits in his palm, complete with a new leather cord. “A peace offering. I stole it back from Varrish, and Brennan mended it.”

You smile, taking it from him and slipping it back over your head. “You’re turning into quite the rule-breaker, Aetos. But thank you. It means a lot to me.”

You’re about to leave, but something compels you to impart a piece of advice. “I know how it feels when people don’t want to trust you because of your family history. It’ll take a while for some of them to warm up to you, but you can make it go a lot faster if you keep yourself out of trouble.”

———————————————————————

Your first flight back with your squad is supposed to be easy, a surveying flight with a small riot, just to check their perimeters, but you can’t seem to quell your anxiety as you take off.

“We will be fine, gentle one. We’re in strong company,” Tab reassures. He stays close to Chradh, knowing Garrick’s proximity will calm you. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Good. I’ve missed this.”

“You have always enjoyed being up this high,” he agrees. “Shall we review some of our basic maneuvers?”

“Sure.” Maybe that will settle your nerves.

“Hold on.” Tab dips, practicing all the angles — banking right, left, up, down.

“Something is wrong,” you blurt, and Tab straightens his path immediately, falling back into the formation. Every nerve in your body pulses with a sensation you’ve never felt before, standing on end. “Something really bad is going to happen.”

You’re right.

“Wyvern,” Tab warns just as they come into your line of sight. They charge straight at the front of the riot, where Sgaeyl leads the pack.

You’re outmatched, nearly two dozen of them and only ten of you. You’re going to die here. At least you’ll be with your best friends.

“That kind of thinking isn’t helpful!” Tab scolds, tightening the formation.

One gets too close for comfort, spewing blue flame, and Chradh banks hard - too hard. You gasp in horror as Garrick is thrown from his seat down to the ground below.

“Dive!” You yell, and Tab follows without hesitation, making a near-vertical drop.

You’ve never been so grateful for the running landing they’d taught you last year. It had been excruciating to execute on top of the pain of unbroken bones, but it’s just manageable now after a few days off from the infirmary.

Clutching Failsafe for dear life, your only defense, you sprint toward Garrick’s limp body, ripping off your goggles.

His heart still beats, but multiple bones look broken, his breathing labored. Touching him is almost unbearable, which tells you he won’t last much longer if you don’t do something.

Deep breaths, like Brennan had taught you, to accept their pain as it entered your body, holding it before batting it away like a fly.

You still haven’t figured out how to make that work.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you start to berate yourself; Why can’t you do this? Compose yourself. Garrick is going to die if you can’t pull it together. Garrick is going to die, just like Liam did, because you aren’t strong enough to fix a fucking plate.

Anger overcomes you for the first time since you’d watched your parents die six years ago. You scream, a sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before splitting the air. The pain dissipates almost instantly. For the first time in two years, your body isn’t aching, and you sob in relief.

Garrick bolts upright, gasping for breath as spring blooms across the snowy plain, trees with bare branches suddenly teeming with green leaves.

Tab roars in pride and the rest of the riot joins in, the cliffs shaking from the volume of their celebration.

“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind.

Your head snaps upward, and you realize that the ground is littered with motionless wyvern.

Garrick pulls you to your feet, brushing the tears from your cheeks. “Come on, angel,” he says, grinning, “we have a war to win.”

You’re still dazed as Tab brings you back to Riorson house, Garrick helping you dismount and leading you inside.

“We have a weapon,” Xaden says, actually smiling as he faces the assembly. “Something, someone, that can destroy wyvern in their tracks.”

Garrick keeps you glued to his side as Xaden tells the elders what happened, but it’s all in one ear, out the other.

You’re dismissed after a few minutes, heading back out to the mess, where your friends gather around one of the large tables in the library.

“Tab called me lifebringer,” you say, confused. “What is that?”

“I thought it was just folklore,” Violet says from a few rows down, scanning the shelves, and everyone turns to her, listening. “Lifebringers are said to influence healing and growth. In some cultures, they’ve been credited with ending famines by rejuvenating harvests, and saving the innocent from the grasp of Malek and his Death.”

“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.

“Aha.” Violet produces a thin volume, cracking it open to the right page. The illustration there looks uncannily like you.

“Only the purest of heart can be lifebringers, those who hold no malice toward their fellow man. The weapons they carry are sharp, but unused,” she reads aloud. “Garrick gave you Failsafe as just that — a failsafe. You never drew blood with it. You never hurt anyone except in challenges, when it was kill or be killed, and even then you held back.”

Bodhi speaks next. “With most signets, the stronger the wielder’s emotion, the more powerful the ability becomes. You feel empathy for the wounded, so you can fix them and ease their pain, but when you thought Garrick was going to die, that was another level of distress, and I guess it was enough to overcome the dark magic.”

Garrick squeezes your shoulder in reassurance that he’s still very much alive beside you.

Violet closes the book, setting it down.

“I’m not in pain anymore,” you whisper, still dazed. You’ve almost forgotten what that feels like, having spent the last three years holding both your own and that of all your friends.

“You needed an outlet,” Xaden says. “Pain makes it harder to channel, and you were in pain 24/7, which is why the professors thought your signet was underdeveloped. Getting angry, and getting that energy out of your body allowed you to use the full extent of your power.”

“If I had known this earlier, do you think I could have…” you don’t finish the sentence. Everyone in this room knows how hard you’d tried to save Liam.

“Maybe,” Violet says quietly, “but that is not a path you want to go down. Trust me.”

———————————————————————

“Do you want to explain why the hallway was full of sunflowers when I went to bed last night?” Xaden asks slyly, dropping into a seat in front of you with a plate of eggs and bacon.

You burn with embarrassment.

Bodhi grins. “You see, cousin, when a man and a woman love each other very much, - ow, fuck!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head where Garrick had whacked him.

“At least they didn’t set the vale on fire,” another of your squadmates says, looking at Xaden and Violet pointedly. “You still owe me for putting that out, by the way.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. “So all that dry lightning last year was you two…”

“Okay, changing the subject!” Brennan says loudly, not liking the way this conversation is headed. “We need to figure out how to use your signet without endangering Tavis’s life again.”

“Well, it sounds like they already found another way,” Ridoc says, grinning, but he squeaks out an apology as Garrick begins to rise from his chair.

You tug your boyfriend back into his seat by the sleeve, looking past him at Brennan. “I think I need to work a few days in the infirmary between flights,” you propose. “If I build up enough pain, I could probably-“

“NO,” the whole squad says at once, Tab included.

“Your healing is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Xaden orders, and even though you’re on equal footing now, both newly-minted Lieutenants, you agree quietly without protest.

“See, that’s your problem,” Sloane says, and all eyes turn to her. “You defer to literally everyone. You’re an officer now. Act like it.”

“Pardon?” You ask, looking at her in disbelief.

“That’s exactly what she’s talking about,” Imogen cuts in. “Pardon? You can’t even discipline a first-year cadet. Do you really think any veteran rider will ever listen to what you have to say?”

“Enough,” you say firmly, your nails digging into the wood.

None of your friends intervene, not even Brennan. This has to be another nightmare. There’s no way they'd hang you out to dry like this. Right?

Sloane isn’t finished. “It’s a miracle you made it out of Basgiath alive. You’re too soft. If you won’t kill anyone, what are you going to do when it’s between your life or someone else’s? Their life or his?”

The mention of Garrick is your last straw. “That is enough from both of you, Cadets,” you reprimand. Thorny vines burst from the seams of the table, whipping out toward them, and they stagger back to avoid being cut.

You startle, your heart pounding against your ribs as you realize what you’ve done.

Sloane is the first to apologize. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that provoking you might…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, looking down at the still-twitching vines covering the tabletop.

“We definitely took it too far,” Imogen adds, sounding genuinely remorseful. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

Bodhi waves a hand, and the vines slither back into the table, as if they were never there.

Your eyes widen at the blood on his cheeks — he’d been caught in the crossfire. You touch his face with a shaky hand, only brushing your fingertips across the skin, and the scratches disappear instantly, leaving no trace of the harm you’d done.

Somehow that makes you feel worse.

“Well,” Garrick says in his section-leader voice, “that was certainly informative, but none of you are to ever disrespect her like that again. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” both girls answer quietly, heads lowered in shame.

Your breathing has steadied enough to speak. “I understand why you did that, but I’m not going to tell you that it was okay, because it wasn’t.”

With that, you take your plate and leave. Nobody follows you.

———————————————————————

The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.

“I want to be alone, Gare,” you say quietly.

“Not Garrick,” Xaden replies, settling down next to you on the stone floor, “and you may want to be alone right now, but you probably shouldn’t be.”

“I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Xay. You know that,” you whisper. You don’t move your gaze from the potted plant in front of you, as if you’re worried it will lash out at you — or him — if you turn away.

“I know, angel. I know.” He exhales deeply, a gentle cloud forming with the warmth of his breath.

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again, just the sound of the cold wind over the valley and the distant footsteps of cadets running on the trail below. “Working through this is not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You’ve come to hate that notion, everyone’s insistence that the pain you’ve been through has primed you for more pain, different pain. Why can’t it ever end?

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing reader insert #garrick tavis #fourth wing #reader insert #imagine

202 notes · View notes

baoreal · 17 days

Text

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.”

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again.

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear.

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

#I have been on my Rosquez feelings so I had to engineer a situation where Valentino has no choice but to confront his sins head on #and then grapple with the realization of how much irreparable damage he’s dealt Marc #marc/vale #rosquez #realistically would Marc ever bare himself like this? Absolutely not #but let’s pretend that Bezz yelling at him in Valencia caused a weak moment and the jagged edge was visible for a millisecond

107 notes · View notes

gentlyweeps-world · 4 months

Text

Wine and Lies 5

summary: A dinner date turns into a heartbreak. But maybe, you could get revenge.

pairing: carlos sainz x fem! reader, charles leclerc x fem! reader

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of cheating

prev part

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You glanced at yourself in the mirror once more, doing a double take of your figure in the mirror.

The dress looked good on you, it enhanced your features, it made you feel confident, it made you feel hot. And the cherry on top was that it was Ferrari red.

Perfect since you and Charles had to attend a banquet for Ferrari. You heard a shuffle from behind you, glancing around you meet Charles eyes in the mirror. And god did he look hot in his suit, it almost, almost, made you forget about Carlos.

The suit made Charles look like a prince. His broad shoulders, his muscular body, his tall height, his handsome face. Everything about him screamed perfection. He looked at you in the mirror, his blue eyes shining brightly and a soft smile on his face.

He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, his hands sliding over your hips to pull you closer to him.

“You look hot Y/n,” he whispered in your ear and you could feel his breath. “So so so beautiful cheri..”

Your cheeks immediately started to flush pink as Charles spoke. His compliment made you feel so good about yourself.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck as he spoke. His arms were wrapped around you, his hands sliding on your hips and he pulled you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the touch of his body as he placed his lips on your neck. You could feel his breath on you, his words causing you to blush and giggle.

You let out a soft sigh and lean back against him, “You look so good in that suit Charles..” You say softly. In your mind you imagined Carlos in his place, it disgusted you that you had done that, but maybe it was just you trying to get over him.

Charles' cheeks turned the tiniest bit pink as you complimented him.

He chuckled softly and rubbed circles on your hip.

"Thank you, cheri. Maybe I should wear this all the time" He joked and then kissed your neck.

“Hmm you’re funny..” You say softly with a smile before pulling away from his grasp, you place a soft kiss to his cheek before walking away.

“We should leave soon for the banquet..” You murmur out, walking away from him and out of the bedroom.

Charles chuckled softly as you kissed his cheek.

He stood up, straightening his suit out a bit before he walked after you.

"Right...we should leave" He muttered and then started to follow you out of the bedroom.

———

You and Charles arrive at the banquet, his arm stays wrapped around your waist the entire time you talk to potential investors and contributors.

Soon it’s time for everyone to get sat and eat, so you and Charles make your way to a table, his hand moves down to your thigh as you wait for the food to be served.

He rubs small circles into your thigh with his thumb, occasionally giving it a squeeze. Then there’s a sudden change, his hand grips your thigh, glancing over at him you see his jaw clenched, “What is it Charles..?” You ask softly, trying to follow his glare.

Your eyes widen in realization, he’s glaring at Carlos and- Rebecca…?

Of course they would be there, you knew that, but you thought you would be lucky enough to not see them.

He turned his attention to you with a grim expression on his face.

“Nothing” he said through gritted teeth, refusing to say anything further.

His thumb started to dig into your thigh as his grip tightened. “Ce salaud de tricheur” that bastard cheater.

“Charles- could you please loosen your grip..” You murmur out to him softly, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out of his daze.

Charles’ eyes snapped back to you as you grabbed his shoulder.

His expression softened and he let out a breath, realizing that he was gripping your thigh too tight.

He loosened his grip on your thigh, his thumb stopping from massaging it.

“My bad… it’s just…” Charles muttered as he looked towards Carlos and Rebecca, his eyebrows narrowing slightly.

“It’s alright, just don’t pay them any attention..” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Charles let out a sigh as you kissed his cheek.

He tried to compose his expression so that he didn’t give away his anger.

“Yeah… you’re right” he said, placing a hand on your thigh. He tried to remain calm and focused on the banquet in front of them.

After awhile the speech started, you really weren’t paying too much attention to it, instead you fiddled with Charles fingers, eager to get back to his apartment and watch a movie with him.

But throughout the speech, your eyes kept on moving back to Carlos, he looked good, too good. His hair styled, eyes still as round and innocent, at least to the sight.

To your surprise Carlos’s gaze was locked on you and Charles, eyes narrowed in a glare and jaw clenched, he wasn’t even paying attention to Rebecca who was trying to get his attention next to him.

You cringe at the sight, tearing your eyes away from him you opt to focus back on the speech, partially aware of the glare set on you and Charles.

But Charles was fully aware the of glare. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek, causing you to smile and lean into his embrace.

He meets Carlos’s gaze and smirks at him. Charles smirked at Carlos’ glare, he knew exactly what was going through his mind.

He could practically smell the jealousy radiating off of him.

He was the only one with his arm wrapped around you.

He was the only one with his lips on your cheek, kissing you.

He was the only one with you, not Carlos.

“Hey I’m going to go to the bathroom..I’ll be right back..” You murmur out to Charles, pulling away from him and making your way towards the restrooms.

Unknowing to you, Carlos was trailing right behind you, ready to show you who you actually belong to.

Carlos walked behind you, his mind set on one thing.

You were his, or at the very least you would be by the end of the night.

He had to show you that you deserved to be his and no other man’s.

He wasn’t letting you go, not tonight, at least that’s what he told himself.

The hallway to the bathrooms was empty, everyone was busy eating and talking.

You felt a hand grab your arm and yank you towards them, then before you could react you were shoved against the hallway wall.

“What the-“ You say before a hand covers your mouth, you meet the brown eyes of Carlos.

Your eyes widened as Carlos grabbed you and shoved you against the wall.

He placed a hand quickly over your mouth, not letting you utter a sound.

Your gaze shifted to meet his eyes as he pinned you against the wall.

Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped a beat at this unexpected move.

What is he doing?

“Mi amor..you look too good tonight..” He whispers out, his free hand going to your waist, feeling you up. You eyes go wide, but you don’t fight his touch.

Carlos’ touch sent shivers down your spine.

You felt your heart beat out of your chest as his hands roamed freely on your body.

He had no right to touch you after how he treated you. A small part of you liked this though...

How could he just get to do all of these things that you missed?

His touch reminded you how good it felt to be with him.

But Charles- Charles with his soft touches and lingering kisses.

Just before you try to shove Carlos off you, he’s yanked away from you.

It was Charles.

He stood there with his hands balled together, his brows furrowed as he glared at Carlos.

Neither one said a word as they stared at each other.

“Let’s go..” Charles mutters out, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Carlos, leading you two out of the building.

On the way out you make eye contact with Rebecca, you and her share a knowing look, you both knew it was too late to get away from Carlos.

Neither one of you said anything, you just walked silently out of the building.

This night was over, Carlos had ruined it.

There was a moment of silence as you two get to Charles car.

“I’m sorry Charles- I didn’t know he’d do that..” You say softly, not sure how any of this would play out.

Charles looked over at you as he heard your apology.

He remained silent for a few seconds as he mulled over his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke.

“I’m not mad at you, cheri.” he said softly, looking into your eyes with his blue ones.

“I’m mad at him.”

The anger and jealousy in his eyes were clear to see.

You nod your head at his words, not sure what to say.

“Do you- do you still have feelings for him? For Carlos?” Charles asks, he knew deep down you still weren’t over Carlos, but he hoped he could do something.

“I- I don’t Charles, I don’t have feelings for him…” You say, it was a pure lie. You couldn’t bring yourself to face the truth or to break Charles heart, because you did like Charles, he was so sweet to you.

Charles’ eyes narrowed from your answer, he knew that you were lying.

He didn’t say anything though, his lips tightened as he tried to contain his thoughts.

He wanted to yell at you and make you admit that you still had feelings for Carlos, but he wanted to believe the lie that you told him.

You did like him, that was true, so he chose to believe that instead.

“Let’s go home…” Charles finally said as the silence stretched on for a bit longer.

“Thank you..” You say, giving him a soft smile as he unlocks his car and opens the door for you to get in.

Charles opened the car door for you and let you in. His face remained tense and his lips were pressed in a straight line.

He looked at you after you said thank you and his expression slightly softened.

He walked to the driver's side and climbed in as well.

Your fingers were interlinked the entire drive and you remained silent as your thoughts raced.

Maybe you could just fake it with Charles, it was better than running back to Carlos- or breaking Charles heart.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Should be ending this series soon, and I should be working on extra parts to certain fics/series!

taglist: @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @roseseraj @formulas-bitch

sequel

153 notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 5 months

Note

Your daughter coming back from dance class and showing Sirius everything she learned 🥹 he watches the whole time and gives her a standing ovation once she’s done. (I need him soooo bad omg)

She came back from dance class still in her leotard and tutu.

“Papa, look!” She said, immediately forgetting her teacher’s words of, ‘keep it a secret for the performance.’

Sirius is still in his work clothes in the kitchen. You note silently that he’d also cleaned up the living room and that dinner smelled amazing.

“Good afternoon to you too,” he says teasingly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. You’re up next, “Good afternoon, doll.”

“Hi Siri, how’re you?” Sirius beams, turning his full attention to your daughter after turning the stove down.

“Excited for this performance.” He winks at you and you shake your head, watching your daughter go through her routine like nothing.

When she’s done, she bows and even does a tiny little spin with a giggle. “Oh my! C'était tellement bien, ma petite fée! Vous ressemblez aux fées de votre livre!”

Sirius picks her up and tosses her three times before coddling her with kisses.

“Papa!” She screams, throwing her head back to get away from his kisses.

You can’t help the way your belly and chest warm at their affection. On another day, a day where you’re not so tired, tears would spring to your eyes as they usually do at the sight of Sirius being the perfect parent- the opposite to what he’d gotten.

“What about a bath? While mum dishes up dinner?”

Your daughter hums, tapping her little chin. In moments like this she’s all Sirius, all teasing and mischievous.

“Veux-tu utiliser la lotion à la lavande, papa? Et faire le massage après le dîner?” Sirius looks at you, raising his eyebrows as if to say, ‘this is all you,’ and you can’t disagree.

“What else would I do at bedtime, ma fée? C’mon let’s go.”

The entire house is filled with giggles and belly laughter for the next twenty minutes while dinner simmers and you can’t help but feel like this is how it should always remain.

#siriusblack #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black fic #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #dad!sirius black #dad!sirius

283 notes · View notes

zarvasace · 6 days

Text

Next is Depth! He is dark Sky. (He gets his own special dramatic portrait—the perspective mostly works? Idk I need to practice and find some good refs for this sort of thing.) So much rambling about him and his design under the cut.

Masterpost

The most striking thing about Depth is how normal he looks. Disregarding a few odd features, he looks like Just Some Guy, at least until he opens his mouth. He occasionally feigns being mute around others so he can keep the charade of being human up for longer, since his voice sounds truly awful. Depth is paler than Sky with much darker hair and orange-red eyes, but is otherwise identical. He doesn't mind that, and chooses to play it up a bit with very similar clothes, too. His tunic is rust-colored, opposite Sky’s spring green, and his chainmail is pointed and jagged on the ends instead of smooth. He wears a purple sash with more angular designs and lines, which matches the purple charm that keeps his cape on.

Depth’s sailcloth is both a source of pride and a sore spot. He made it to contrast Sky’s, dark and tattered, but one of his very secret desires is to get one as beautiful as Sky’s, made by Sun, maybe dark, but functional and lovely and a reminder of her.

See, Depth doesn't understand Sun—he doesn't actually know her, though he has memories from Sky. He wants her to be a damsel in distress that he can rescue, he dreams of her choosing him over his Light, but he doesn't realize that she won't. He loves his idea of her. While Depth follows [insert LU bad guy here]’s directives, he makes his own plans and he has his own agendas, and many of those plans aid him, in some way, to win Sun’s affection.

However, as Depth has been growing into the leader role, he's starting to become attached to the other Darks. He's annoyed by them, but his plans have started to expand to benefit them in a way that doesn't necessarily benefit him, too. He might have a little altruism in him, after all.

Despite that, unfortunately, Depth remains someone who would not save the world, but someone who intends to damn it over and over again. He doesn't flinch at the thought of Demise’s curse, in fact, he would welcome it. He likes the idea of having a purpose and a destiny. He wants to coddle the few people he cares about and would set everything on fire to do it. He says he loves Sun more than Sky ever could, but he would lock her away to keep her "safe."

Depth is the de facto leader of the group, since he's driven and has ambition. He has a very strict idea of what the other Darks should be doing and gets upset when they don't do it. He hates being touched and is ruthlessly practical. Once, when Nothing was being particularly annoying and tried to steal Depth’s sailcloth, Depth broke at least one of Nothing's fingers. He hasn't gotten close to injuring someone like that again, due to equal parts nobody bothering him like that again and him trying to be a little gentler. He doesn't hesitate to threaten injury to keep order, though.

Depth knows about Ghirahim as a sword, and wants to wield it, but is under the impression that he needs to prove himself worthy first. (Whether or not [LU bad guy] actually intends to let him use it is a different story.) Depth is one of the more skilled sword fighters among the Darks, remembering formal training, but his sword isn't anything special. In a fight with Sky, they would be evenly matched if it weren't for Sky’s ability to use a Skyward Strike, and Depth's inability to block that much light.

Depth’s special ability is his voice. In a mundane way, the others try to not make him use it, because it's almost painful to hear. In a magical way, Depth’s voice carries over long distances. When he sings, he can summon creatures like bats, crows, rats, and snakes, and they'll listen to him for a time. When he screams, his voice is a magical, short-range wave of destruction. Yes, he's an evil Disney Princess. Depth doesn't feel any strong affinity for the animals he attracts, but he doesn't let Dire or anyone else hurt them, and he doesn't send them to their deaths. He mostly uses them as spies and distractions.

Depth is one of the more dangerous members of the Dark Chain—not because he’s physically imposing or particularly powerful, but because he can see beyond the next mission and is determined to ruin the Lights once and for all. He's one of those who would happily kill his Light—but only after Depth shows him how he has lost everything dear to him.

#my art #lu z darks au #is this even lu anymore #i mean technically im using the lu interpretations so okay #linked universe

75 notes · View notes

theprismyyy · 3 months

Note

can you make a headcannon of gwen having a introvert or super shy girlfriend?

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend

Pairing: Gwen Stacy x Fem! reader

Tw: Nothing, basically just cuteness (not revised)

(English is not my first language)

I feel like this could be better, but honestly I'm not at my best... so I guess that's it, I still hope you like it ❤️

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ I feel like Gwen is an ambivert type of person, so she can kind of be on both sides of the coin depending on the situation or her mood in day. Either way, this girl would be super understanding with you, always trying her best to make sure you are comfortable in her surroundings.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ If you were in a circle of people talking and she noticed that you had something to say, she would do her best to help you to integrate into the conversation, in addition to listening carefully to what you have to say.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- Whenever you are in very crowded places, she keeps her hand firmly attached to yours, arms intertwined, hand in your back pocket, around your shoulder, on your waist or belt strap, in general anything that helps her stay close and not end up losing you in the middle of so many people (she also wants you to have this guarantee that it is there and not going anywhere).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend----------- If you're the type who's too embarrassed to ask for directions on the street or order your own food, she wouldn't mind doing it for you. But she always tries to encourage you in a healthy way, obviously, to do it alone and be SUPER proud when you succeed, even if you stutter or fumble a little while speaking she still couldn't be most proud of your girl😭 she is your number one supporter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- I imagine a scenario where you would have to present a project in class, in front of the whole class and you're like: Internal screams, anxiety, hyperventilating, wanting to faint, cry and vomit all at once. But Gwen is such a supportive and understanding girlfriend that she would never diminish the way you feel about it, and instead of saying it's silly and that you need to learn to deal, she tries her best to set aside at least one hour a day (either in person or via video calls), to help you practice your lines, comforting you and giving you words of support.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- Who when the dreaded presentation day finally arrived, would sit with you under the stairs about an hour early and just She would let you go over your lines if things were really bad for you, she would help you with breathing exercises and even hold your hair if you were the kind of person who needed to throw up. Regardless of anything, when the time finally came she would be right up front to hear everything you had to say, sussurrando palavras de conforto sempre que você gaguejasse, now...if by chance she doesn't have that particular class with you, make SURE she would be standing at the room window or opening the door to watch the presentation, with a big proud smile and a thumbs up as confirmation that you are doing well.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend------------ No matter what grade the teacher gave you on that presentation paper, she would be there for you congratulate you and tell you that you were incredible simply for having the courage to go in front of everyone to speak, that this is how you start and that soon you would be doing it to the letter.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The beginning of the relationship would be so weirdly cute and funny, this girl is crazy and hungry for physical touch, but you don't know exactly how comfortable you are with that, you're both a shy mess and too embarrassed to ask each other.

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend—------- But things start to flow and work naturally little by little, until you finally reach your first kiss. Gwen would probably be the one to initiate it... and you to walk away, not because you didn't like it but because it was unexpected, like, you were casually at her house at a sleepover, talking and being silly teenagers when suddenly she He leaned over and kissed you, more like a peck since you got scared and went to the other side of the room 😭😭 (you didn't talk about it for about three days).

Gwen with a super shy girlfriend-------- The first time the two of you actually kiss without running away from each other is at an even more random moment, you're in the bathroom, Gwen leaning against the sink counter as you fix your makeup in the mirror. As soon as you finish, you approach Gwen softly, both of you with a silly smile on your face when she compliments some of your makeup, it's just a super sweet interaction before you realize how close you are to each other, how you wouldn't need to lean in so much for touching your lips and how your breaths seem to mix perfectly.

Then they both go in for the kiss…and damn, that's awkward.

A small shy peck, followed by lots of silly giggles that barely allow you to put your lips together properly, hands shaking and not knowing where to rest, your teeth they probably clash a little...but at the same time as it's strange it's also so adorable. Soon you find a little rhythm that is still shy, but more comfortable for both of them, with Gwen holding her face with an almost crushing softness and her (very shaky) hands resting and delicately gripping her waist her. Anyway, a student ends up getting in the middle of this, disrupting this little moment and making the two of them separate like scared cats (you still laugh about that whenever you remember)

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy #spider ghost #spider gwen #across the spiderverse #spider verse #into the spider verse #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #my gf <3 #It took me so long to do this😭😭#gwen x y/n #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy x fem!reader

94 notes · View notes