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slayfics · 2 months

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Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter Nineteen: You and Mina get in an argument.

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Mina paced back and forth in her dorm. Kyoka, Ochaco, and Tsuyu watched concerned.

"Where the hell is she? Why won't she answer me!" Mina checked her phone again to see you still hadn't called or texted her back. "She promised we would have girls study night today!"

"Maybe she's not feeling good?" Tsuyu suggested.

"Yeah, there's no reason to be so upset," Ochaco added.

Kyoka just rolled her eyes.

"What?" Mina asked, noticing Kyoka's annoyed gestures.

"Well... it's obvious, isn't it? I'm sure we all know where she is. We should just forget about it and get studying," Kyoka suggested.

"No way!" Mina shook her head hoping Kyoka wasn't right. The whole reason Mina had planned a girl's study night was for you. You had been moping around so pathetically after having an argument with Katsuki. Complaining to her every chance you got about how he wouldn't talk to you, he wouldn't do this, he wouldn't do that.

Mina was so sick of hearing about Katsuki that she felt like she could throw up. To think you'd stand her up for him after she put up with all your complaining, and even tried to cheer you up with a study night today. It was unacceptable.

What was even more unacceptable was to think you'd forgive him so easily. Happy enough to run back to him whenever he called for you. Mina felt her blood boiling.

"That's it!" She stomped out of her dorm room over to yours. Throwing acid on your door handle she threw open the door.

Kyoka, Ochaco, and Tsuyu all poked their heads in to see... you were not in your room.

"Yup, told you," Kyoka said.

"No this is not happening," Mina said making her way to the elevator to go to the common room. The other three girls reluctantly followed.

Denki, Eijiro, and Hanta were all sitting on the couch watching the TV in the common room when Mina stomped up behind them.

"Hey!" She called out.

"Oh, hey Ashido! What's up?" Eijiro asked, a sweet smile on his face.

"Where is your friend?" She asked annoyed.

"Umm... who?" Eijiro tried to play dumb.

"Bakugo! Where is Bakugo," She yelled.

"Oh uh... I don't know, why do you want to know where he is?" Eijiro shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes gave him away. He knew more than he was saying.

The other two boys just laughed at the exchange.

"Whatever, if you're not going to tell me I'll just go," Mina retorted starting to make her way over to the boy's side of the dorms.

"Wow wow- You got a death wish or something?" Denki called out to her.

"Hm? What do you mean?" She asked, turning around.

"It's just well... Bakugo's busy," Denki replied.

"Like hell he is!" Mina yelled and continued on her way to the boys dorms.

"Um should we stop her?" Ochaco asked nervously.

"No, she's too determined, but maybe we should follow in case this goes bad," Kyoka said, and the three girls silently followed her into the elevator.

Making their way to the fourth floor, Mina pounded on Katsuki's door.

"I know you're in there," She yelled.

"What the fuck are you yelling about?" Katsuki yelled from inside.

"I'm not talking to you Bakugo! Open the door!" She banged on the door again.

The other three girls peeked their heads from down the hallway too afraid to approach any closer.

"Damn you're loud," he said as he opened the door leaning on the door frame covering the view of the room. "Who exactly are you looking for raccoon eyes?" he asked with a smug grin on his face.

Mina frantically looked around him but didn't see you in the room.

"I know you're in there! What are you hiding in the restroom!" She yelled, noticing the bathroom door closed. Mina tried to push past Katsuki with no luck.

"What the fuck?! Back off," He exclaimed, easily keeping her out.

"You're so frustrating you know that!" She yelled over Katsuki's shoulder. "I set up this night because you were so heartbroken and then you just forgive him!? Just like that?! We were supposed to study today!" She continued to yell past Katsuki.

"Heartbroken? What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, but Mina had had enough

"THAT'S IT!" She put her hands on Katsuki releasing some acid causing him to back up for just a second.

"The fuck," He yelled, as Mina got past him and threw acid onto the bathroom handle kicking it open.

You indeed when in the bathroom. Mina wrapped her hand around your wrist and tugged you out.

"Don't even think of resisting! I will burn you!" She yelled to you as you wiggled under her grasp.

Katsuki watched as she furiously dragged you out of his room.

"Sorry," You mumbled to him.

"DON'T APOLOGIZE TO HIM! APOLOGIZE TO ME!" She yelled as she stuffed you into the elevator, the other three girls following looking away from you and trying to ignore the awkwardness.

"You're unbelievable," you snapped at Mina in the elevator.

"ME?!? NO, YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE! Going back to him just like that. I bet he didn't even apologize to you! He just snapped his fingers, and you went running!" She yelled.

"REALLY?! That's how low you think of me?! You have no idea what happened!" You yelled back.

The other three girls looked anywhere but you two. Finally, the elevator dinged and opened back up to the common room.

"I don't fucking care you're coming to this dumb study night whether you like it or not," Mina yelled pulling you by your wrist again. She pulled you through the common room passing the other three boys still watching TV.

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain

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raffe156 · 1 year

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Spoils of War

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (Tank) OC

Warnings: Smut/nsfw, 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of violence, Possessive Price, Dom!Price, rough sex, age gap in my head Price is 41, fluff at the end

Summary: You make Price jealous, end of hahaha

A/N: Thanks for so many likes and reblogs on my last post! Possessive Price has got me in a hold and I really like this MC and Price dynamic, got more ideas and wips for them :) @yeyinde and @irnbru32 this one's for you two!

Please as always comments and feedback welcome

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank

3:00am

You glanced at the alarm clock on the small side table. You knew you needed to get up, but Price had you trapped under his arm you were tucked right into him. His soft snoring in your ear. You traced a scar on his forearm the hair had not quite grown back. The man was like a space heater, you could feel it coming off his bare chest. You were just in his T-shirt but you could feel yourself sweating. The Ac unit had broken days ago on the Los Vaqueros Base, you had asked Alejandro to fix it god knows how many times only for him to respond with “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing so many layers querida” followed by Rudy apologising for his Captain.

You tried to turn yourself in the small cot so you could put your foot on the floor, but Price gripped you tighter to him.

“Not trying to do a smash and dash are you love?” - The sleep was thick in Prices voice. You turned your face back to him.

“Yeh your my 1am booty call John…I’ve got Ghost pencilled in for 3:30…” - You laughed, but you noticed the change in his body.

“Oh I'm joking John…I need to make sure Im at least back on my side of the base before everyone wakes up…can't be seen doing the walk of shame back from my Captain's room can I? knickers in my pocket…speaking of which can I have them back please…their on your desk” - You sat up on your elbows. Price looks over at his desk your black underwear draped over his desk lamp.

“No…Keeping them thanks…spoils of war and all that lot” - He mirrored your body sitting up on his elbows a smirk on his face.

“Spoils of war?…John you can't keep my knickers…I'll take your boonie hat then...I think I'd suit it” - You got up moving over to the desk to swipe your underwear and his beloved hat his top just covering your arse. Your weren’t fast enough he was up and already at the desk your underwear in his fist, he gave your arse a slap for good measure.

“Now now…got to be quicker than that love, even half asleep you can't beat me” - He was feeling cocky now. He eyed you up and down god did you look good in his T-shirts. He leant back against the desk you could see the outline of him in his boxers, fuck he was handsome. You slinked over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging your own elbows noses pressed together.

“It’s ok you keep them…ill ask Simon if I can have my lace ones back…” - you sighed leaving the whisper of a kiss on his cheek. You pulled away feeling pretty smug with yourself.

Why was he feeling like this? He knew you were joking, but the image of Ghost with his hand on you…you clawing at him while he’s buried deep in you. Him hearing the soft sobs as you cum saying his name…his tongue all over you…Price felt like his blood had turned to acid and it was boiling through his muscle into his bones.

“Have you seen my pants…cause your not keeping them as well…” - You looked over at Price, he looked like a storm cloud.

“what’s the matter? You know I'm joking don't you?” - you walked back over to him cupping his face. Your eyes were pleading with him. You and your big mouth. Price didn’t say a word instead he started kissing you, but it was all teeth, biting greedy, rough.

“Mhmmm….slow down John…”- You tried to pull away but he had you locked in his arms, he moved down to your neck, biting and sucking at it so it left marks. He wanted to mark you as his.

“John don’t, your going to leave marks and I'm not wearing a neck gaiter for the next few days in this heat…ahhh!” - he had bit your shoulder.

“Call me John one more time I dare you…I'm your Captain and I think you need reminding of that” You could feel him on your thigh he was hard, and you couldn’t lie it was making you wet.

“Yes Sir….Captain” - Your heart was racing.

“That’s better…on your knees” - He said pulling his cock out of his boxers, the tip already leaking, you did as you were told.

“Open your mouth…tongue out” Price could see you squirming on your knees. He was going to enjoy this he thought as he slapped his cock off your waiting tongue. You wrapped your mouth around him softly licking the underside of his head. You looked up at him as he slid further down your throat.

“That’s a good girl…” - His hand snaking up into your hair.Price growled as you took him as deep as you could, He was moving your head for you, he hit the back of your throat causing tears to well up in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumb and pulled out leaving you drooling and gasping for breath but it was short lived as he thrust himself back down your throat and held you to his base your tongue flat to his balls. You tapped his thighs. Fuck the oxygen was leaving your brain, but you could feel how wet your were.

“Alright, easy now take a breath” - Price pulled your head back, saliva on your chin, he wanted to ruin you. You were trying to steady your breathing, you liked this game and wondered how far you could push your Captain. Price could see the look in your eye you were scheming, well he was going to put a stop to that.

“You have 5 seconds to get on the bed…or I'm using my belt on your arse”- He stepped away from you reaching for his pants to unloop the belt his cock bobbing against his stomach. You didn’t waste any time getting to your feet and crawling on to the bed where you waited for further instructions from your Captain.

“Good girl, 6 seconds, but i'll let you off this once…” - he slapped the belt together. It made you jump but the spring in your stomach said otherwise. Price grabbed your wrists slipping the belt over them pulling it tight. More marks you thought. He raised them above and over your head leading you to lie on your back arms reaching towards the top of the cot, tying the other end to the metal rail headboard. A nervous laugh escaped from your mouth. Price noticed you pull your knees up defensively. He cocked his eyebrow at you not a chance your were hiding now. He bullied his way between your thighs pushing your knees apart leaving your bare. He loved the sight of you spread out for him on display, loved the way you couldn’t help buck your hips up. Loved the way your squirmed under his gaze like it was burning you. He was right his gaze was searing into your skin causing your blood to rush and thunder in your ears. You were begging him with your eyes to brand your skin with his touch.

“Look at you…all laid out for me…or would you prefer Ghost between your legs looking at your wet cunt?” - He was smirking as he traced the inside of your thigh with his rough hand, his thumb grazing over you slit. You were feeling brave and wanted to see how far you could push your luck.

“Ghost would already be eating me out like it was his last meal” - Your grin bit at him you could see it in his eyes. Price knew you didn’t mean it you were trying to get a reaction out of him, but he couldn't help the image that formed in his mind.

“Oh I’m sure he would…in fact I know he would be, any of the men on this base would be I wouldn’t blame them either” - Price lowered his head , you could feel his breath on your sensitive skin an inch away from your throbbing cunt.

“I've seen the way they all look at you…wondering what you sound like when your moan, when your begging for it, how you would feel pressed against them tight and hot…” - Price swipes his tongue flat over your folds, flicking the tip off your clit. He takes a quick glance up at you you face is buried in the crook of your elbow, he can hear your panting the dry heat suffocating you. He’s toying with you but your answer got you what you wanted, you always got what you wanted with your Captain, his face buried in you his beard rough on your inner thighs. It was short lived just as you were wading in, Price removed his mouth and replaced it with the sting of his hand the pain spreading up your body.

“For fuck sake…” - You where reeling at the sudden shift in touch. Price gave you a cruel look as his fingers prodded into your cunt thick and heavy, curling up hitting you just right causing a choked moan to escape, his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing tight circles. You eyes screwed shut as he applied pressure to your abdomen.

“Fuck…John, please…�� - Your pleas cut short as he corrected you with another slap to your pussy.

“What did I say about calling me John?…I'm your fucking Captain…”- Price was enjoying this and he couldn’t help feel sorry for you, but you need to be taught a lesson. He sat back resting your legs over his bare thighs he loved the dirty scowl on your face. He gives you that eye crinkling smile but it's laced with smugness and you wanted to kick it off his face. Before you get a chance to kick out Price lines himself up with your centre, rolling your clit with his tip coating himself with you, it sends sparks up your spine that crackle through your nerves. He slides his T-shirt up your body exposing your hard nipples kissing in-between them, rough, nipping kisses, he sucks a bit too hard on one of them leaving a pink hue that will bloom into a dark purple love bite by the time the sunrises.

“Please…Sir…” - Your begging his cock resting at your entrance you can feel your walls clenching around nothing and your really cant help let out a little sob the frustration getting to you.

“That’s a good girl…see your….learning” - Price rammed his cock in, not giving you the time to adjust around him like he usually does. No his rhythm is heavy and powerful each one you feel him at your cervix, you arch your back while your bitten breasts bounce with every thrust. You cant even choke out a moan, the sound of his hips connecting with your arse and thighs is obscene also his swings are causing the headboard to hit the wall, someone was going to hear you.

“Think Ghost or Soap could fuck you till you couldn’t speak love?…After the other night I bet they have wanked themselves dry at the sight of your naked wet body…but i'm telling you now i'm going to make sure they know how good you get it from me…” - he growls, slamming back into you making your eyes roll back in your head. Your caged under him his arms resting either side of yours, he wants to hear you, he needs to hear you. He starts to bite at your neck, licking it his beard scratches you face. There your on the edge he's dragging your walls with every pull of his hips, its pooling in your stomach your going to snap open. You want him to snap you open.

“OH FUCK!…” - You cum, your legs shaking around him its loud, but you don't care.

“Feels to fuckin good love, your so fucking tight, want me to fill you up…” - Price can feel your walls tightening around him pushing him into his own realise.

“YEs…Plea…Fuck me…i want your cum in me Captain!” - You sob the words out, desperate. Price is drunk on the sounds your making as he fucks you rough and hard, the sounds filling the small room, he groans loudly as he cums inside you, panting your name.

He falls to the side of you his cock still twitching inside you, he presses his forehead to your temple. You both try to catch your breath. Price reached up to unbuckle the belt from your wrists, the skin scorched from the rough fabric. He made a mental note to kiss them better later.

“So does this mean I can have my knickers back?” - Your voice is wrecked and dry as you turn your face into him.

“No and dont ask again” - He chuckled lifting his head up to kiss you softly this time. Priced wrapped his arm around you tightly. You were back in the same position as when you woke up you glanced over at the alarm clock 3:35am

“Shit i'm late to meet Ghost…” - You laughed ringed around the room. Price looked at you like your were deranged a smirk creeping at his mouth.

“Really woman? Your going to be the death of me?” - He nudged you back into him, You laughed.

“No really John…I need to get up…In 10mins everyone is going to be gearing up for the brief with Laswell and I don't want to be scurrying back to my room with the best part of you running down my leg thanks” - You tried to push your way up, but he was stronger despite being nearly half asleep again.

“John…really…let me up” - You really were struggling now. Price wasn’t budging he wanted you to stay there with him in your own little bubble, because once you left this room you both had to resume your roles, him making sure you didn’t get yourself killed, you barking back at him for doubting you.

He made another mental note to ask you when this was all over out on a date, dinner and drinks, but for now he was happy like this in your little bubble.

“shhhh shhh…love just give me 5 more minutes” - He felt the lull of sleep pulling at him, his mind showing him the life you both could have together, he could hear you laughing, sing song voice as you danced around the kitchen belly round with his baby glowing and beautiful, two more running at him hands open and sticky. He wanted that and he was going to do everything he could to get it.

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autisticlancemcclain · 4 months

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“There are three things I know,” Keith blurts. Lance stares at him blankly, or maybe angrily, or maybe in a way Keith can’t understand. He doesn’t bother trying, focusing instead on the way freckles dot Lance’s nose, mapping them to avoid looking at his whole face. He continues.

“The first thing is you have to — when you’re stabbed, you have to keep the knife there. You can’t pull it out or you’ll die. The second thing is that I’m bad at saying I love you. The last thing is that we know more about the moon than the ocean.” He swallows and finds his throat bone dry, scratchy. It takes him ten or twelve tries to moisten it again. Lance says nothing as Keith orients himself, refusing to grant him the mercy of ending his sentence. He waits impatiently for the rest of Keith’s sentiment, for the explanation. Or maybe he’s stopped listening and Keith is talking at a wall. He can’t tell. He still can’t bring himself to meet Lance’s eyes. He’s scared they won’t be as warm as they have always been.

“I’ve never been stabbed,” he finally manages. His voice is quieter now, muted and embarrassed, rather than the thoughtless rambling it was before. Hems made a claim and now he has to back it up and there is nothing in his fucking tank to do this. He’s sandwiching the truth between seventeen loaves of bullshit and he knows it and he’s sure Lance knows it but Heaven itself could not stop him, even if It had any desire to reach down and protect him. “I’ve never, uh, known anyone either. Who has been. I read it in a book once. And of course I can say it. It just never sounds like I mean it. And I don’t know anything about the moon or the ocean, really. I just meant humanity as a whole. The collective knowledge of science is more detailed on the satellite rather than the body of water, I mean.”

Say something, he wants to beg Lance, but even he knows that’s unfair. He wants to fold himself up and hide away. He wants to scream at Lance at the top of his lungs, for making him say any of this, for making him think it. Keith never let himself feel this clearly before he met him. Before Lance Keith kept a box of things locked and guarded in the back of his mind and if anyone so much as poked at it he ran. It worked for ten years.

But Lance danced in with a smirk and the scent of crushed daisies and Keith handed him the fucking key.

“And?” Lance asks quietly, throwing him a bone. Taking pity on him. Or mercy. They’re the same thing anyway.

Keith’s hands tremble violently. He clenches them into hard fists and could cry at the relief it brings. “I know more things. I just. Those are the things that never sit right.” The shaking starts again in his fists, then travel up his arms and jerk his shoulders, and soon he’s trembling so badly he’s half convinced he’s seizing, half convinced he’s going to have a stroke and die before he can stutter to an end, finish the fucking sentiment he offered up. The clenching of his teeth does nothing and they clatter so badly they crack to a million pieces and fall to pieces at the floor. His skin flinches right of his body. Every spasm of his muscles oozes blood down to a growing pool on the floor. He is open and bleeding and peeling and cracking and flaying and peeling and crumbling and he is open and open and open and falling, endlessly, disintegrating at Lance’s feet, essence of him seeping into Lance’s sneakers.

“Why does stabbing hurt twice?” he whispers. “Why can’t acts of good be what they are? Why can I sit on the beach and know less than what splashes in front of me than a blinking distant satellite? It doesn’t — sit right with me.” He swallows again and it’s salty. “Does it sit right with you?”

The boiling puddle of him sputters and bubbles. Every thought he’s ever had is on display. He is a spitting pool of acid and the goo at the bottom of a dumpster. He stains everything he touches. The floor will never be white and pristine again, even if it looks it, because he will always know that here is when he threw up every bit of him and still tried to hide behind what he could and here is where he lost.

“I just want you to tell me the truth,” Lance says eventually. Keith finally meets his eyes, and the brown of them isn’t dark or cold or hard but instead shuttered behind closed doors. For the first time in all the years Keith has known him he has a barrier up. It is so foreign on his face that it’s startling, like walking up to your own front door and finding the locks changed, like laying your head on your pillow and finding it smelling like someone else, like waking up to find your fingerprints in a new pattern.

“I just told you three.”

———

based on this poem by @mavigator

#i don’t know where this fits. flower crown au maybe #i just wanted to write keith with his words spilling out of him i guess #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #angst #keith angst #langst #hurt no comfort #flower crown #? who knows #my writing #fic #longpost #brown eyed lance

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drjdorr · 2 years

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You know the "humans are space orks from a death world" thing? I thought of a possible addition.

What if one of the reasons we are so space orky is because while earth experiences the apocalypse every few million years, most alien's home worlds only have like MAYBE one or two in their biological history?

Like yeah there are plenty of aliens from death worlds but you remove them from their death world they are screwed because they only evolved for that narrow version of habitability. But human's evolutionary ancestors had to survive so many apocalypses that drop us off on some minor death world and we can adapt. Our ancestors survived a planet killing asteroid impact, not to mention an event so devastating that its official title is "the great dying", some boiling magma and acid rain is nothing

#humans are space orcs #heck if we have to deal with the end times every now and then we might even have adapted evolving faster than most aliens #i might borrow this idea as an explanation for why my sci-fi universe has a disproportionate amount of human descended species

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sky-kiss · 6 months

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Okay sorry for all these prompts/ideas but I just can't get rid of these worms and would love to hear your takes on them! How would you imagine a scenario where Raphael is wounded and decided "I'm going to teleport to my favourite person instead of going back to the Hells" (maybe he was wounded in the Hells and escaped). He manages to teleport to them/their doorstep before passing out. What would ensue? 👀👀👀

p.s. I only though of this because I was thinking of Raphael without his doublet so you see that shirt and then imagined him being all bloodied and beat up 😩 Welp... Adding that to the back burner of things to draw!

A/N: Ya’ll feeling a lil’ bloodthirsty against the boy tonight. What has he done to deserve such violence? You know. Aside from everything. I’ve opted for a touch of silliness.

_________

The House of Hope is compromised.

It’s Raphael’s last cognizant thought for some time. The assassin closes the distance between them with hellish speed, a blur of wings and bladed limbs. He’s vaguely aware of the pain, but it’s the burning he feels first. It’s like acid in his veins. Poison, he thinks, and that airy disconnect startles him; it’s poisoned me.

Raphael rips the beast off him, snapping its neck in one fluid move. Screams echo throughout the House. He hears more of those things scurrying about in the main hall and something massive, something awful, crashing towards the boudoir.

They’ve come for him. His father’s men or a rival Archdevil, it matters not. He moves towards his armoire, intending to slip into the Hell Dusk armor before they are upon him, and nearly collapses. His vision swims; the muscles in his hands and calves are still in the process of cramping. Everything wants to spasm.

The cambion grits his teeth, pride warring with rationality. If they kill him here, it will be a final death. But on the Prime…even if they fell upon him, there is hope. Raphael forces his hands through the familiar gesture and casts himself among the planes. He has no destination in mind; his mind cycles through its expansive catalog of people and places and locates one with sufficient strength. The House fades.

Convenient, because so does his consciousness.

________

There’s a devil in her garden.

Well. Cambion.

Tav purses her lips, rocking back on her heels. She should probably feel panicky but can’t find it in herself. Raphael looks rough. His doublet is shredded. His red skin is tinged nearly purple, and sweat beads on his forehead. The hero of Baldur’s Gate glances back towards her cottage, down at the devil she’d once (tenuously) considered a friendly acquaintance.

If he’d thought to come to her after a decade, then things must have gone sideways back home.

She sighs, kneeling and slipping her arms under his. The devil is hot. Not in an attractive way, not even in a natural temperature way; it’s like his blood is boiling in his veins and cooking him from the inside out. She goes to move him and groans.

“Gods, couldn’t even transform to make this a little more manageable, hmm? Good to see you’ve not changed, dear.”

Getting him inside is an arduous process. Tav has to stop more than once. He’s heavier than he looks, and touching him burns her.

She finally, finally manages to drag him to the couch. Tav presses the back of her hand to his cheek. She’s no expert in Infernal medicine, but he doesn’t feel or look great. Chewing her lip, she weighs her options. Leave him and hope he awakens…

…or take matters into her own hands.

She’s always been more of a take-charge sort. Tav fetches a knife from the kitchen. He isn’t going to be happy with her, but he’ll also be alive, so it’s a tradeoff he’ll have to accept. She finishes cutting the doublet free. Seeing him without it is strange. Tav sits back on her heels. He looks smaller, so much more vulnerable without that mark of rank. The shirt beneath is rather plain by comparison. Frilled, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. Tav cuts it away; the blood has ruined it. They’ll find something else for him to wear.

The wound stretches across his side. It oozes in some places; the skin along the edges is blackened, already starting to rot. She wonders if his mortal blood worsened or lessened the effect of the poison.

Tav fetches half a dozen potions from the pantry alongside a roll of bandages. She’ll have to work quickly and pray.

_________

Raphael regains consciousness halfway through the procedure. The cambion is aware of a pinching sensation in his side; there’s a small hand on his ribs, trying to keep him from moving away. His host pinches him. They’re saying something.

“Transform.”

Gods above and below, he recognizes that voice. The devil groans, chancing to open his eyes. Tav is staring at him, crouched between his spread leads, needle in hand.

“Not you.”

She snickers. “Me, darling. Don’t complain. You manifested in my garden.”

“Anything ruined?”

“An entire bed of night lilies.”

He huffs. “I’m glad to hear it. I should visit far more destruction upon this wretched…” the room does a dizzying turn and his nausea intensifies.

“You can visit your destruction later. Right now, I need you to transform. Your skin is a bit…” she shrugs. “More difficult to manage as a devil. You need sutures.” He snaps his fingers. The shift is not as immediate as he’d like, and he has to screw his eyes shut against the latent exhaustion. Tav’s hand shifts, moving up to cup the back of his neck. “Easy, love. You’re alright. Could you stomach a healing drought?”

He nods. Tav presses the potion into his hand and returns to her work, leaning over him. There’s a part of him, separate from the pain and sickness, which catalogs the healthier warmth of her skin and the press of her against his thigh. Her scent is precisely as he remembered. Her hair…

Raphael frowns, reaching out to tweak one shorn strand. “You cut your hair.”

She smiles, stitching him back together with practiced ease. “Do you like it?”

“Not in the least.”

Tav laughs. It’s a far cry from the last time they were together. When the wretched thing had the gall to deny him; when she’d cut ties entirely and ended their mutually beneficial relationship. She’s so close. He could snuff out her miserable life and finally make good on…

“There.” She pats his stomach, pressing back on her heels. She doesn’t move away, he notes; her elbows remain on either of his thighs. She is such a little thing, his pretty mouse, even with her horrible new hair and a smattering of fresh wrinkles. She tips her head to the side. “You’ll have to rest a while. But you’ll live.”

“The House is compromised.”

Tav finally stands. She smooths his hair back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Stay here then. We’ll make it work.”

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my fic #have some sweetness to make up for my earlier crimes #but honestly i think it would depend on the tav #if he fled to joi she'd immediately jump to committing warcrimes #because how dare anyone hurt her people #other tavs might be like who the heck is this guy why am i his emergency contact

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gogh-with-the-flow · 1 year

Text

Blood in the Wine-4

Chapter 4: Botanicals

A/N: I know it’s been a damn long time coming, but here it is! thank you all for your continued patience. i hope you like this chapter. it was a labor of love for sure.

Reader x Vampire!141

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: descriptions of vomiting and sickness, knife mention, vampirism, Soap gets what’s coming to him, suggestiveness (barely)

Song for this chapter: In Bottles by Aurora.

MASTERLIST, CH1, CH2, CH3, CH5, CH6, CH7

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You woke again in the same bed, but with none of the comfortable peace of the last morning. You jolted awake, blood running cold, and sat bolt upright. You were alone in the room this time, and sunlight was streaming through the window. It must've been around midday. They had done it to you again. You were haunted by that underwater feeling, that loss of control; the violent peace that was forced upon you by honey-dripping lips.

You felt sick.

You ran to the bathroom as you felt the telltale sign of your mouth salivating as your stomach turned; stinging nettles stabbing their way up your esophagus. You barely made it to the toilet before your abdominal muscles clenched painfully and you emptied the contents of your stomach into the bowl.

It was bitter, the acid biting you the whole time while you heaved and heaved, until you had nothing left to give but thick, green bile. You closed your eyes and flushed. Maybe that cheese wasn't so edible after all.

But it wasn't the cheese- or maybe it was, it probably was- but that wasn't all. You felt sick from the way Soap had controlled you like a puppet, shoving his fist into your chest and manipulating your very emotions. You felt hollowed out, mummified. You wouldn't let it happen again.

You stood on shaky legs and hobbled over to the sink to rinse out the bad taste left in your mouth. You still felt sick. The only food you had eaten in four days was now making its way down the drain. How were you even still walking? Maybe it was some sort of residual healing from Soap's mouth on you. Yeah, that had to be it.

You couldn't let them do that to you again. They'd told you that today would be your rest day, but they would feed on you again tomorrow. You couldn't risk it. You couldn't have their mouths on you like that again. You had to get out of there- tonight.

You hurried back to your room and went straight to the window and wrenched back the curtains to find- bars. The windows were barred with intricate cast iron. Of course they were. You cursed loudly to yourself. You'd have to find another way. You'd just have to wait a little longer.

You went to try the door next, and found it unlocked. You stepped over the threshold slowly, glancing back and forth and listening, trying to determine if any of them were nearby. Nothing. Down the hall was a staircase which you descended before pausing once again. You heard two distant voices talking down the hall somewhere. Two voices you recognize: Gaz and Soap. You heard them laughing, and the sound of it made your blood boil.

You followed their voices, bare feet padding ever so softly as you crept up on them, picking up bits of their conversation.

"... bet you had fun…"

"...tasted so good…"

"...good as me?..."

"Even better."

"Don't be a fucking tease…"

You heard a clatter and a groan, and you rounded the corner into the kitchen, where Gaz had Soap pinned against the counter. Gaz's hand was hooked on a leather choker around Soap's neck, pulling their faces close as Gaz pushed his body flush against the other man. Soap was shorter than Gaz by a few inches, but Soap had Gaz beat in muscle; the taller man was more of a lean build in comparison to Soap's bulk.

Gaz was smiling wolfishly down at Soap when he noticed your figure hovering in the doorway and his smile faltered. He stepped back from Soap, releasing his hold on the collar.

"Your girlfriend's awake," he muttered. Soap turned to you with a wide grin, approaching you with arms wide open.

"There's our bonnie las-" His words were cut off by a sharp smack against his cheek. He froze just a foot away from you. Your palm stung deliciously. You felt vindicated. He slowly turned his head to look at you, absolutely stunned.

"How dare you? You fucking bastard!" You were livid, just looking at Soap's annoying face. Soap. What a ridiculous name for such a horrid man.

"Calm dow-"

"No!" you cried, snapping your hands up to your ears and scrunched your eyes shut to block the syrupy words from infecting your mind again. "Don't you dare! Not again, this is my turn to talk, understand?" You paused for a moment, your own heartbeat drumming away in your plugged ears. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes and met Soap's hard eyes.

"You don't get to do that to me anymore. You can keep me here, and you can feed off of me, but don't you dare try to control my fucking emotions! You don't get to just- just fucking hypnotize me into being happy with all of this! That's bullshit!"

You finished with a huff, breathing hard after your outburst. Your face was mere inches away from Soaps, both of you fuming. Gaz was off to the side, just watching- always just watching- but you paid him no mind.

"Anything else?" Soap asked, voice clipped and measured as he tried his damnedest to remain calm. You both stood in wretched, furious silence, each waiting for the next shoe to drop. And by God, you weren't just going to drop it, you'd throw it right in his face.

"Soap is a stupid name for a vampire."

"Alright ya wee cun-"

"Soap, settle down-" Gaz finally interjected and threw an arm between you two.

"No, no! Let him finish, what were you gonna say, huh?"

The kitchen quickly dissolved into chaos. Soap throwing words at you that you could barely comprehend through his accent; you egging him on, ecstatic to finally give him back a taste of his own medicine; and Gaz, poor Gaz, in between the two of you, trying and failing to get you both to calm down.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?!" A booming voice rang throughout the kitchen shocking you all into silence. Soap quickly composed himself, barely putting a lid over his simmering anger, as Price approached the three of you. Gaz stepped away quickly, but Soap was reluctant to move, and so Price pulled him back with a rough hand on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Soap, what is going on?" You teased. Price shot you a warning look, but you didn't care. They'd promised not to hurt you, right? So you were going to push as many buttons as you could get your vengeful little fingers on.

"She just walked in and hit me!" Soap complained.

"Did you deserve it?"

"No!-" "Yes!-" you both answered at the same time. Price sighed.

"Gaz, did he deserve it?"

"I have no clue what's going on, sir" Gaz answered, putting up his hands in a mock surrender.

"Soap, explain."

"No, I'll explain," you interjected before Soap even had the chance to open his mouth. Soap glared at you. Price turned toward you expectantly. "Last night, after our meeting, I let Soap feed on me. I held up my end of the bargain. And what does he do? He gives me food poisoning, yells at me, and then fucking hypnotizes me when I cried, and then- and then forces me to sleep!" You vented, getting your heartrate up once again. You almost thought you saw Price's nose flare as he listened to you. Maybe he was listening to more than your voice.

"Is this true, Soap?" Price asked without taking his eyes off of you. Soap shifted uncomfortably.

"She was hungry and tired. Was only trying to help, sir."

"So you compelled her to get her to stop crying?" Price clarified, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of his nose. Soap remained silent. "Yeah I'd say you deserve a lot more than a slap in the face for that."

"Sir, I-"

"Take a walk, Mactavish. I'll deal with you later." Soap hesitated, looking between you and Price in frustration. "Now, Soap," Price added sternly. And with that, Soap turned on his heels and exited the kitchen without another word. You stared daggers into his back as he walked away. Price turned to you once he was gone.

"I apologize for him. You'll have to give him time, he hasn't had a meaningful conversation with a human woman since the 80's."

"That explains the hair," you snarked.

"You're one to talk," responded Gaz from across the room. He had a point. Throughout your adolescence and into adulthood, your hair had been dyed nearly every color of the rainbow and cut to various lengths. Currently it was a navy blue, cut into a shoulder-length shag. Still, you weren't about to take any lip from him. You still hadn't forgiven him.

"Oh shut up, Kyle. You sneered his name like it was a bitter taste on your tongue.

"It's Gaz."

"You told me your friends call you 'Gaz.' We're not friends, Kyle. Friends don't kidnap each other to recruit them into some fucking- I don't know- undead death cult!" You had rounded on him now, the hatred that was aimed at Soap moments ago now laser focused on the man who had betrayed you.

"That's quite enough," Price demanded, stepping between the two of you. "Gaz, get out." Gaz took a deep breath, giving you one last regretful look before exiting the kitchen, same as Soap.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him. He cares about you," Price said with a sigh.

"He lied to me!"

"What would you have done if he'd told you the truth, hm?"

"I'd be home safe," you bit back. Price just looked at you, expression unreadable. A tense moment passed before Price spoke again.

"Let's get you something to eat," he suggested as he turned and walked further into the kitchen.

"If it's moldy cheese again, I'd rather starve," you mumbled. Price tossed you a look, and muttered a fucking hell, Soap under his breath.

As he moved about the kitchen, you saw what Soap and Gaz must have been doing before you'd interrupted. There were bags of groceries littered across the counters: fresh produce, dried pasta, frozen dinners, anything you could've been craving was laid out in various stages of organization.

Before you could stop yourself, you hurried over to one of the bags and grabbed an apple, immediately biting in. Fuck, you were hungry. You ate ravenously, barely chewing before diving in again. Juice was running down your chin but you couldn't care less. How the hell had you gone so long without eating? Especially after being bled last night.

You barely registered Price's eyes on you. He watched your mouth working, chewing, eating. Once you noticed, you stared at him- stared at him staring at you. Then he noticed you staring, and he cleared his throat with a nervous smile.

"Sorry, just- haven't done that in a while. Eat, I mean." There was something in his eyes as he averted his gaze. Longing, maybe? He went back to putting away the groceries.

You finished your apple- core and all- and moved to dig through another bag. You found a microwave pizza and ripped open the package without hesitation. You pressed a button on the microwave, not caring about the cooking instructions. It would probably be cold in the middle, but you couldn't find it within yourself to care.

As you waited for the microwave to finish, you took in your surroundings with greater detail. The kitchen was clean, lacking any grease stains or food splatters anywhere; but at the same time, it wasn't clean at all. A thin layer of dust covered nearly every surface. There were no signs of life in this room, save for the new addition of human groceries. It made sense. Why would vampires have any use for a kitchen? Price continued to work quietly beside you.

The microwave beeped, and you snatched the pizza out, immediately taking a bite and burning the roof of your mouth. You dropped it on the countertop.

"Easy, love. Food's not going anywhere," Price scolded. He handed you a glass of water, and you gulped it down greedily. Fuck, you were thirsty, too. You were so dehydrated. You felt Price's eyes on you again, and as you finished the water and set the glass down, you turned to him.

"Could I just have a minute, please?” you asked. You tried to find the right words. "You keep watching me eat, and it's a little… it's making me nervous."

"Right, yes, of course," Price said, appearing just as flustered as you were. "I'll just… I'll give you some time to yourself. Be back in a bit, give you a tour of the place. Eat up." And then he left you alone.

You filled the glass with water again, and then went back to your little pizza. You settled on one of the barstools at the kitchen island and let your mind wander as you ate.

You needed to get out of this place. You weren't safe here. Sure, Price had promised they wouldn't hurt you physically, but they were clearly still capable of compelling you to do whatever they desired. And who knew how long they'd keep their promise, anyway? You haven't even met the one named Ghost, the one who had come the closest to killing you. It was only a matter of time before one of them lost control and bled you dry. This was the last day you'd stay here.

You wracked your mind trying to think up a plan when your eyes landed on the knife block. You thought about taking one but hesitated. They'd surely notice it missing from the display. So you set about digging through the drawers looking for silverware. One, two, three drawers you opened and then you found it. You retrieved a butter knife and slipped it into your pant leg. You prayed to whatever was listening that they wouldn't notice it. This house was old, maybe the locks were too.

You slipped back onto the barstool just in time, because soon after Price marched into the kitchen once again as you finished the last few bites of your food.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you were sure he heard it, judging by the quirk of his eyebrow, but you hoped you played it off as surprise at his arrival, rather than from getting caught doing something you're sure Price would not approve of.

"Alright?" He checked.

"Yeah, just snuck up on me is all," you lied. "You're pretty quiet on your feet for such a big guy." And he was a big guy. Over six feet tall with a broad chest and even broader shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world. You wondered how long he's lived, how much weight he really did carry, how many lives he's taken with his bite. You hoped you'd never get the chance to find out.

"Get enough to eat?" He asked.

"For now, at least," you confirmed with a nod.

"I'll have Gaz cook you up something for dinner later. Soap is getting the video player set up in your room so you can watch something when you're done eating."

"I don't want Soap in my room," you protested. Price gave you a pointed look, clearly getting fed up with your non-compliance. He ignored your protest.

"Come on, I'll show you around the place. He led you out the kitchen door on the other side of the room, which led to a hallway with doors along one side. "Servant's quarters. Though, we haven't had servant's living here for a century." You followed him to the front of the house. "Library in this corner. Gaz mentioned you liked to read. Use it freely."

He turned the corner into the grand foyer, an ornate crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a large winding staircase led up to the second floor. The floor was marble, but was in need of polishing. Cobwebs stretched across the arms of the glittering chandelier above you.

"The staircase will lead you back to the bedrooms, or you can use the back staircase again. Either will do. Back in the day, the back stairs were only used by the servants." How long ago was "back in the day?"

He continued across the foyer to the hall on the other side. He showed you the dining room, the ballroom, and finally the conservatory. The plants were all dead. Eventually you came to the servant's stairs again at the back of the house, and you followed him up.

"This is your room, obviously. The rest of the rooms are empty. My study is at the end of the hall around the corner, towards the front of the house. If you ever need me, chances are you'll find me there," he told you. "During daylight hours, you may walk in the garden. Use the door in the conservatory." Then he turned to you with a stern look, his steely eyes hardened and cold like a glinting knife. Like the knife you'd hidden on your person.

"You must go out only in daylight. And you must never leave the garden. Don't wander off, don't try to leave. We'll know." He placed a massive hand gently on your shoulder. "I tell you this for your own safety. As Lord of this manor, I have absolute authority. But if you leave, then I can not protect you.” He was leaning over you, eyes boring into you, daring you to defy him. His face was so close to you, his breath wafted over you, and you could smell the tobacco on it. Aged. Expensive. You could practically count the individual hairs of his beard, his eyelashes.

“Do you understand?” he asked softly. You only nodded. It was a lie, of course. You were planning on going into the garden and beyond tonight. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, right? “Good.” He leaned away from you again, and you felt something tug in the pit of your stomach- something like yearning. You choked it back down. “The last thing we need is you getting any big ideas,” he added. It was all you could do to keep your breathing steady. Does he know? But then he turned and walked towards his study, you supposed.

“Oh,” he paused and turned back to you. “There’s also a sizable pond in the garden. You’re welcome to swim if you like.”

“I don’t have a swimsuit,” you responded. Price just smiled wryly, looking at you with hunger in his pale blue eyes.

“Shame.” was all he said, and then he turned the corner down the hall. Oh.

You weren’t quite sure what to do now that you were left alone. You stood in the hallway for a moment, wondering what to do next. You decided to check out the gardens. It would be wise to get a lay of the land before you made your escape. You descended the stairs once again and soon found yourself at the glass door of the conservatory. You turned the brass handle and stepped in. The floor was smooth, cut stone. There were hanging baskets and standing pedestals with pots of dead, dried plants. Withered, wilted leaves drooped sadly over the sides of terracotta left and right. The room smelled of mycelium. The air was stale. There was an overturned cast iron pedestal off to the side. There were traces of dirt and broken pottery around it, as if someone had lazily and hastily swept it up, but they hadn’t really cared about cleaning it thoroughly. You walked forward and reset the pedestal.

You opened the french doors onto the patio and breathed in fresh air for the first time in days; since you had gone to the club with Gaz. No. Kyle. you walked out into the garden. There was a large stone fountain in between two rows of flowerbeds. The fountain looked like it hadn’t run in decades. The flowerbeds were overgrown with weeds. Further out, the garden extended down a hill. There was a creek running perpendicular to the slope. The babbling water seemed to be the only sign of life in this whole place. A small arching bridge crossed over it. As you wandered the grounds, you took note of the fruit trees planted here and there. None of them were bearing fruit.

You crossed the bridge and took the wandering path along the hillside until you came across the pond Price had mentioned. Based on the state of the rest of the garden, you had expected it to be muddy and full of algae, smelling like rotten fish and dead frog spawn. Instead, you were happily proven wrong. The water was crystal clear and sparkling in the light of the slowly setting sun. on the far side of the pond, beyond the shore, was a tree line: the beginning of a thick forest.

You decided to take advantage of your bare feet and waded into the water, just up to your ankles you closed your eyes and the feeling of the cold water lapping at your calves and the soft silt settling in between your toes. You felt… peace. You finally felt at peace, and it wasn’t due to Soap or Kyle manipulating you this time. You felt stinging behind your eyes and your breath hitched. A hot tear traveled down the side of your nose and settled in the corner of your mouth. It tasted salty.

A gentle breeze rustled your hair and tickled the back of your neck. The sound of leaves rustling in the trees across the pond. A fish splashed against the surface, probably catching a waterbug for its dinner. A moment passed and then you felt the tiny waves wobble up and down your leg. You breathed deeply. Your tear dribbled off your chin and landed in the pond. You felt electrified.

Your body always felt like it woke up whenever you were surrounded by nature like this. You’d lived in cities your whole life, but when you were able to get out in the countryside, or when you took a walk in the woods of a state park, everything seemed so much sharper. The sky was bluer, the grass greener, the flowers more fragrant. You dug your toes deeper into the saturated soil beneath you. It grounded you. Even in a barren place such as this manor, the energy of nature brought out your soul from the hardened shell of your body. You felt alive in this moment. A bird took flight from an apple tree somewhere far off to your right. Some little creature deep in the forest burrowed beneath a log, searching for seeds or bugs.

“Hey,” a voice suddenly interrupted, “sun’s setting, you need to get inside. Dinner’s ready.”

“Christ, Kyle!” you shouted as you whipped around, nearly slipping in the mud. But Kyle’s arms were there to steady you. You shrugged him off and ignored the subdued pain in his maroon eyes. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You had been so in tune with the sound of life around you, how had you missed his footsteps behind you? Maybe because he isn’t alive.

“Sorry, I thought you’d heard me.” he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, refraining from eye contact. “Seriously, though, you need to get back inside before dark.”

You digested his words and looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the sun was already behind the tree line to the west. You’d completely lost track of time, lost in the magic of nature around you. You stepped out of the pond and felt that your toes had become pruney. How long had you been out here?

“Come on,” he demanded with just a touch more urgency in his voice as he turned back to the house and started up the path. You followed after him silently. Before long you were back in the stuffy old house, breathing in that dusty old air. Gaz glanced down at the expensive-looking watch on his wrist, then out again at the window, taking in the quickly darkening sky.

“Head up to your room now, I’ll bring your food up to you.” You didn’t move quickly enough for him, just looking at him with a challenging curiosity. “Hurry!” he commanded, ushering you towards the back stairs, tossing another anxious glance outside. You finally listened to him and bounded up the steps. You reached your bedroom door, but before you opened it, you paused to listen. The house was so quiet. Not even the floorboards settled to make a noise. It was like the building itself was holding its breath. You entered your room and locked the door behind you.

Walking to your bed, you fished out the knife from your pants and planted it beneath the mattress, just in case any of the boys- Soap specifically- tried to get handsy again. You didn’t think they would, not after your spat this afternoon; and Price had told you today you would be off from feeding; but you were slow to trust these men, and you couldn’t be too safe.

You stood back from the bed, smoothing the covers back over the mattress to remove any trace of tampering, when something caught your eye. A large, very large flatscreen television was mounted to the wall opposite your bed. You didn’t know the exact size of it, but it covered a greater portion of the wall. A small table had been placed beneath it with a DVD player connected to the TV with various wires. At least Soap can keep one promise.

There was a knock at your door, and slowly you moved to open it. Kyle stood there, tray in hand.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“I thought you didn’t need permission to enter,” you challenged.

“Well, I was just trying to be polite,” he countered. “But since you wanna be difficult…” he trailed off, and then he was pushing past you into the bedroom.

“Hey!”

“Here’s your dinner,” he announced, dropping the tray unceremoniously into your nightstand, not dissimilar to what Soap had done the night before. He must have sensed your guard going up again, because he turned to you with a sigh and a soft maroon look. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, taking a tentative step toward you. When you didn’t retreat, he continued forward until he was standing before you. You found yourself longing for him to touch you, to hold you like he had before this mess. He did not touch you.

“I’m sorry, I just…” he drew in a deep breath. “This is all new to me. And I know it’s not easy for you either, I just-” his hand twitched at his side. “I’m sorry. For everything.” And then he left, locking the deadbolt behind him. He left you confused and frustrated once again. He had a habit of doing that to you, it seemed.

You turned your attention to the tray on your nightstand. A ceramic bowl sat in the center with a glass of water to one side and silverware to the other. You stepped forward to get a look at the contents of the bowl: a simple bowl of pasta with pesto sauce. He remembered. You had only mentioned your fondness for pesto once over the phone. You felt the cage around your heart loosen just a tiny bit. But you wouldn't let this convince you to stay.

Without another thought, you sat at the edge of your bed and dug in. It was good, Christ was it good. Had Gaz made the sauce from scratch? Before you knew it, you were twisting the last bit of pasta around your fork. You were satiated, but not satisfied. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you were out of this dreadful manor and away from these men.

You wondered if Soap had fulfilled his other promise of retrieving the rest of your clothes. Replacing the bowl onto the tray, you stepped over to the wardrobe, and sure enough, it was packed full of ripped jeans and various tee shirts. You rummaged through the hangers until you found one of your heavier jackets and shrugged it on. You found a pair of your chunky black boots and then moved to the dresser to dig out a pair of socks, and then put both articles on. The sun had fully set by now.

You checked the door. Sure enough, it was locked from the outside, not that you’d let that stop you. You retrieved your knife from under the bed and wedged it between the door and the doorframe, wiggling it back and forth, up and down, nudging it gently to keep it quiet. Finally, you felt something shift with an audible click. You tried the knob once again, and it turned. You were right, the locks were old. Opening the door slightly, you listened for any movement, any creaking floorboard or squeaking door hinge. You were met with nothing but the sound of your own breath.

You moved silently down the stairs and thanked the deity if your choosing that the door to the conservatory was so close to them. The handle squeaked ever so slightly when you turned it, and you froze, listening intently. But no gnashing teeth emerged from the shadows of the hallways, so you continued. Once inside the conservatory, you hurried to the outside door, and breathed in the sweet fresh air once again. There was nothing holding you back anymore. You said a bitter goodbye to the old house.

You sprinted past the fountain, down the hill, nearly tripping over gravity, and down the path to the pond. The stars sparkled overhead. There were no lights of the city to pollute them away from your view. Orion’s belt lit your way, and you swore you'd never run this fast in your life. You ran and ran, around the shoreline of the pond, slipping once, twice on the soft ground, but you continued. You reached the tree line. All you had to do was get away, make it to the next town, or maybe a nearby farmhouse. You were closing in on the last base on your homerun. Then you hit something dark and unmoving.

People always talk about fight or flight responses, but few remember to mention the third option: freeze. That’s what you always seemed to do when faced with danger. You’d always hated the way you’d freeze. Your limbs would lock up, your lungs would contract. Whenever your mother screamed at you, or a customer at work would get angry with you, all you’d ever do was stand there. That’s how you found yourself sprawled out of the forest floor.

You were face-to-face with Death himself. An enormous black shadow towered over you, the face of the Grim Reaper floating well over six feet in the air. Bright, searing red eyes burned into you almost painfully. Whereas Gaz’s eyes were a deep burgundy, these eyes seemed to glow with hellfire. Its chest heaved, arms shaking as it looked down at you. You could practically feel the rage radiating off of it. You’d never felt so small, not even when your mother sat you down on the couch to berate you for whatever she’d deemed you’d done wrong.

The shadows seemed to be drawn to him, dark fog swirling at his feet, threatening to cover you, suffocate you. All you could do was sit there in the damp grass and look up at the hulking creature. Its death-face stared back at you, and it muttered only one word, its voice so deep you felt it reverberate in the dirt beneath you.

“Run.”

---

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480 notes · View notes

prey-4-me · 1 year

Note

Yautja with an autistic reader

Thx for this request, hope you like it 🤍

Request: Yaujta x autistic reader

Sort of fluff?, gender neutral, no smut

Yauja Translations

Hult’ah - name, meaning Watcher

Kv’var - hunt

Ooman - human

Human Translations

Kmt - what ancient Egyptians called Egypt

***

The constant thrumming of the ship bothered you. No one else seemed to notice. But it was driving you crazy. Anxious, you fiddled with your jacket zipper.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Someone asked.

Chatter initiated. Overwhelmed by it, you sat back and fiddled some more. But you thought about the question. Your group had been overtaken by a strange alien race while exploring a new planet. Half the crew had been lost by the time another alien species showed up, ship crashing through the clouds in the sky.

The other scientists continued to argue. You thought about your meeting with the second type of alien. Cornered by a xenomorph, you had flattened yourself against a wall and waited for death. It had approached slowly, calmly, as if relishing the kill. You focused on the drool coming out of its two mouths.

Suddenly a spear had gone through its elongated head. It had screamed, acidic blood spurting at you. A large, strong hand had pulled you backwards to safety. The thing staggered and fell. Was it dead? You stared at it, waiting for it to move. Horror slowly dawned on you as you considered the fact that the awful creature, which had killed half your crew, had just been killed easily by something else. What terrible beast was this?

You turned slowly around, focusing on your fingertips and counting up and down from 10. You had to look upward to see its face. It was… inhuman. But the eyes seemed familiar. It blinked at you. You blinked back. It broke the tension by speaking in a nearly human voice. Scratchy and raw sounding, it didn’t frighten you.

“Come… with me. To your friends.” It turned and took off without another word or action. Confused, you followed along. If nothing else, you appeared to be safe with it.

“What do you think?” The question broke into your thoughts.

“Huh?” You had stopped paying attention to your shipmates.

“What do you think is going to happen to us? Maybe they’ll eat us.”

You snorted at the comment. After interacting with it, you didn’t think it was interested in making you a meal.

“Why would they bother to talk to us if they wanted to eat us?” You asked, still zipping your zipper up and down your jacket.

“What, one of them talked to you?” Incredulous comments burst forth, overwhelming you again. Their voices turned into one buzzing noise in your ears. Just as your anxiety was about to boil over, the door opened. Your rescuer came in. You felt happy to see it. Looking directly at you, it motioned for you to come.

“Don’t go with it - We can fight it!”

You jumped up and followed it out the door before they could yell anymore. You entered a long corridor, illuminated with red lighting. It walked briskly. It turned its head slightly to speak to you as you trotted along beside it. “Your friends are very afraid. You can explain to them that we mean them no harm. Your kind are not an honorable kv’var.”

Confused, you followed along silently. It continued, “Where do you come from? I think… you call it Earth?”

You nodded. It went on, “Why so far from home?”

You didn’t know how to respond. An alien was asking you why you left the rock you were born on to go to another one. Honestly, in this moment, you had no idea. You said so. It grunted. You weren’t sure if it was annoyed or amused or…?

“This way,” it lead you down a slightly more narrow corridor. Stopping in front of a doorway, it motioned you inside. You stopped short upon entering. Human objects were scattered about the small room. Some looked very old. Others looked quite new.

“This is all my ooman stuff. I thought you would like to see it.” Was it boasting? You were unsure. You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, so you just nodded as you looked around the room. Many things confronted you. It was so much you nearly got dizzy. But then you focused in on something. As an archeologist, you recognized something you had studied heavily. Canopic jars. A full set, looking brand new! You raced to it. Reverently, you kneeled to get a better look. Without touching, you noted the cartouche. You knew this Pharaoh. You grinned. What a find.

“Do you like them? Your people used to put your guts into jars. Weird, but they look nice.”

You laughed happily. You continued to study them. Time stretched as you carefully examined each and every detail, all the hieroglyphs you could see. You realized slowly that the alien was sitting next to you patiently. You turned your head slowly.

“You really like them.” It seemed… amused? You weren’t sure. It leaned towards you slowly, as if to not frighten you. It smelled liked herbs and… strangeness. It picked up one of the jars. “This is my favorite.”

You immediately set off explaining which organ and why went into it. Then you went on to explain the life of the person who owned the jars. It nodded, listening intently. Finally it asked, “So now I know the name of my Pharaoh. My name is Hult’ah. And your name is..?”

You found it difficult to talk about yourself. After a strained moment, you squeaked out your name.

It considered. “I like it,” it finally said. It scooted closer. The scent got stronger. Normally this would bother you, but you didn’t mind this smell. It seemed… comforting.

“We take you home in a few of your earth months. We are very far away right now, as you know.”

You shrugged. You were more interested in exploring more of this room. It seemed to sense this, “What else do you want look at? I have more things from Kmt.”

Impressed, you asked to see more. The next several hours passed by in academic bliss. Finally you realized you were hungry.

It grumbled in a way you didn’t understand. “We have some food that is… probably palatable to oomans. Come.”

You followed along, passing by several other of its kind. You kept your gaze down, intimidated. Finally it turned into a larger room. There was some seating and something that looked a bit like the kitchenette in your Earth apartment. It opened a drawer and pulled out something that could be thought of as fruit, appearance-wise anyway.

You took it. You looked up at your friend. It clicked softly, eyes gentle. You felt oddly okay. Taking a bite, you tasted the tart juiciness of it. You mumbled. It was good.

Hult’ah clicked again before saying, “Let’s sit.” You sat in a chair, eating. It sat next to you, rather than across the table. Must be cultural, you thought.

When you had finished your snack, you turned to Hult’ah, “Now what?”

“Well, you want to go to your friends?”

You frowned, “Not exactly. I’m sure they’re fine.”

Hult’ah clicked again. “Well, we can just talk?”

“About what?” You panicked at the social requirements.

It shrugged, “You could tell me more about Kmt.” You immediately went off on a long story about the history of everything you were really interested in. Hult’ah leaned forward.

Finally you were tired. Hult’ah took you to a small room. It had a cozy looking bed and some other ooman-ish items. “You can stay here to sleep. But tomorrow you really need to tell the other oomans it’s okay.” You agreed sleepily. Hult’ah left you sleep.

***

The weeks had passed more quickly than you wanted. You stood next to Hult’ah as the Yaujta ship entered Earth’s atmosphere. You had learned much about the Yaujta, and befriended many of them. It was strange to feel so at home among another species.

Hult’ah clicked, “Well, soon we will be on your ground.” You nodded. Then you started to cry. Hult’ah turned to you. “You are… happy to return?”

“No,” you blurted out.

“… you have… things on Earth you will miss?”

You thought about your snake plant for a second. “No,” you finally said, feeling sad and angry you had to leave. Hult’ah was… very special to you. The other oomans crowded to the exit as the ship landed, rumbling and finally becoming still. They chattered excitedly. Although they no longer feared their alien hosts, they were ecstatic to return home, to the things they had left. But you were leaving the thing that was important to you. You took one step. Then another. Focusing on moving your feet, you made it to the exit. Your ooman companions called to you to hurry. The Yaujta could not stay long without risking detection.

You froze. This was it. Your stomach felt heavy.

A strong hand landed on your shoulder. “You can go, but you don’t have to.” Hult’ah’s voice was very quiet.

You spun around and leapt into Hult’ah’s powerful arms. “Let’s go.”

Hult’ah held you with one arm while comming the pilot, “We’re ready. Oomans are clear of the ship…. Well, the ones that are leaving, anyway.”

You wrapped both arms around Hult’ah until it became too much. Then the two of you walked through the ship to the Ooman Room. You wanted to continue cataloging it, and Hult’ah was an excellent assistant. You thought about Hult’ah and your heart was full.

#yautja x human #yautja x reader #predator x human #predator x reader #yautja x you #predator x you

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crucifiedfaerie · 6 months

Text

Gods & Monsters ༉₊˚✧

GodOfDeath!Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader AU

(THIS IS A DARK!FIC PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS AND THE AUTHORS NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING !!!)

➴ Summary: Death has followed you like a shadow your entire life. After losing everything, you call out to him in a moment of desperation. Maybe that was his plan all along.

➴ Word Count: 2.2k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI under any circumstances, DARK!FIC, fem!reader, dom!kylo, a lot of angst, BLOOD, major and minor character death, reader is suicidal, kylo is the god of death, kylo is obsessive, selfish, and manipulative, stalker!kylo, reader is naïve, a little soft!kylo bc he loves her but again he's selfish so should i really call it that ??, soul selling, SMUT (manipulation therefore DUB-CON, very rough sex, unprotected PiV sex, sadist!kylo for a second ??, naked sub/fully clothed dom, dacryphilia kind of, light bruising, blasphemy and sacrilege), typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: guys did i just lowkey write a snuff fic? maybe. (yes) its left up to you to decide if this has a happy ending or not. kylo is selfish and manipulative, yeah, but hes also sexy and in love so idek how to feel myself. @enviedear and i have been playing around with the idea of godofdeath!kylo in our dms so special thanks to liv my beloved <3 i hope you guys enjoy and i also completely understand if some of you aren't chill with the themes of this fic.

It appeared that death followed you wherever you went, trailing behind you like an invisible shadow you couldn't escape. It started when you were younger with any pet you would get mysteriously dying, you don't know when but at some point you had given up on trying to keep them. Friends and family followed suit over the years, all of them as tragic as the last one. It was as if Death was puppeteering your life, tugging on the strings that held your heart together... and you didn't quite understand why.

You couldn't seem to remember what it was you'd been thinking about on your walk home. Maybe it was what your mother had decided to make for dinner. You stared at the pot still boiling in the eerily quiet kitchen. Or perhaps it was how you had promised your sister you'd play with her when you came home. Your eyes darted to the toys that had been carelessly scattered over the floor of your family's shared bungalow, noticing how a light mist of crimson coated them.

You tried to remember, but one singular word kept interrupting your thoughts. Blood. All you could smell... was blood.

You tried to scream but it was as if the air had been stolen from your lungs. All you could see was red. Red. Red everywhere. On the floors. On the walls. When you saw them, the shriek that escaped your heaving chest pierced the silence of your home, bouncing off the walls and ringing in your ears.

Your family was dead. Slaughtered and discarded on the floor as if they were simply livestock.

As you backed away, you nearly slipped in the puddle you realized you were standing in. The sticky, wet sound your shoes made as you moved was revolting and you felt acid burning at your throat. You stumbled into the living room, just barely making it to the soft carpet before falling to your knees. You heaved, but nothing happened, your empty stomach having nothing for your body to forcibly expel.

You collapsed to the floor, body wracked with sobs. You screamed and screamed until you thought your vocal cords might tear.

Gone. They're all gone.

You don't know how long it had been. Maybe hours, maybe days. You laid there, your screams subsided to sobs and you wanted nothing more than to be with them... No, you wanted to be them.

Why couldn't it have been me? Why my mother? Why my sister? Please, I just want to die. Please Please.

For what felt like an eternity, you silently begged for death. How ironic, you thought, that you begged for the thing that had taken everything from you. You had already dealt with plenty of loss to last you several lifetimes, and now you had lost the last two people you loved. There was no physical pain on this planet that would ever compare to what you felt now. You only wanted it to be over.

You saw something out of the corner of your eye. A tall, dark figure, lurking in the shadowy corner of the room. You looked up, attempting to blink the tears from your raw eyes, unable to make out any distinct features of the being that stood before you.

"You- Did you do this?!" You sobbed. "Did you k-kill my..." You couldn't even say it. If you said it out loud, that meant it was real.

The figure stepped forward, allowing light from the window to cast down upon him. Your teary eyes widened as you realized who this man... this being, was. The aquiline nose, dark locks, and scar that trailed down his cheek you'd recognize anywhere. Kylo Ren, the God of Death, stood before you. You had only heard of him in legends, but he was even more marvelous looking in person.

"I do not take. I only collect." Ren said firmly, yet a hint of compassion laced his words, making you feel... safe? In any other situation, you would have laughed at the idea of feeling safe around the literal personification of death itself, but you were in no mood for laughing. He continued. "I hear souls call out to me, and I answer."

"My family... who did this? Why wasn't I-" You choked out, weakly pointing to the adjacent room behind you. You began to sob again, feeling hot tears run down your face.

"Raiders..." Ren knelt on the floor in front of you, getting down to your level before continuing. "Sweet, mourning lamb, there's nothing you could have done. They went quickly, I made sure of that." He reached out a large hand to gingerly wipe the tears from your face, and you melted into the divine warmth of his fingers.

"Did you come b-back for me too? Please, I don't want to be here anymore- I can't do it without them, please! I'm nothing!" You begged him through sobs.

"Not to me." Ren sighed calmly, a sympathetic smile resting on his expression. "I do not answer the calls of souls whose time are not up... but you're different, special..." He trailed off, his voice still firm but sounding like he was was pondering something.

"I don't understand..." Your voice was just above a whisper.

Ren paused for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence as his dark eyes scanned yours. He held out his hand to you and finally spoke. "I want you to join me. Let it all die, let everything go, and I will give you what you so wish for."

Your eyes widened at his request, staring into his intense gaze. "Join you?" You croaked.

He nodded slightly. "Rule by my side, little lamb. I feel so drawn to you, I always have... And I know you've felt it too." His tone was soft, but there was a small shred of desperation there.

"And everyone I love? My family and friends?... Will I see them again?" You began to turn your head to look at the door to the kitchen, but a strong hand grabbed your chin at light speed, turning your head to look at him again.

"No- You're still... Holding on! Let go!" Ren raised his voice, startling you. He was inches from your face and his eyes were filled with pure panic, as if he were afraid you were changing your mind.

Memories of your family and friends played like a movie reel in your head. So many moments that you'd never get back. They were gone, and you'd never see them again. What's done is done and you had nothing now.

But as you stared into Ren's wild, dark eyes, you saw an offer being handed to you that you couldn't refuse. An option to never be alone again. To forget every detail of your life as it stands. To not feel the pain that laid so heavily on your heart and soul.

I understand.

You inhaled sharply before placing your shaking and much smaller hand in his. "I'll join you." You said it so quietly, you weren't sure if he had even heard it.

Ren certainly did, however, and within seconds he pounced, closing the gap between you. It was as if your words were an invitation he had been eagerly waiting for and his warm lips crashed into your cold, trembling ones. You felt every emotion at once coursing through your body, and you thought you might spontaneously combust at any moment.

The kiss of death.

He did not pull away though, he only continued to kiss you with more urgency. He pushed you backwards until your back was pressed against the plush carpet. When you touched him, he felt like he was made of marble. As if you needed any more emphasis on the fact that this was no human man that loomed over you.

Ren's large hands began to explore your body, his fingers running along your sides, causing a warm bolt of electricity to shoot through your core. You instinctually moaned against his mouth, and you felt him smirk.

He trailed his mouth down your neck, leaving red and purple marks, before pulling away to admire his work. "You already look so divine in this life... I can't begin to imagine what you'll look like in the next." Ren's voice was low, smooth, and his words dripped with honey. It elicited another moan from you, causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

At near light speed, he practically ripped your clothes off, pulling your shirt over your head first before making quick work of your pants and underwear. You were left naked and writhing on the floor as you watched him work at his belt, kneeling over you.

You couldn't help but think of how morally wrong this all was. This was no simple kiss of death... No, this was blasphemous. Sacrilegious in every sense of the word and you... loved it. You loved how your body betrayed you every chance it got, ignoring every single alarm bell that rang in the part of your brain that clutched onto what little was left of your sanity. It was exhilarating.

With quick fingers, Ren freed his cock from the confines of his pants, causing it to spring upwards. You marveled at him, wondering if maybe this was his weapon of choice. Maybe he would impale you on his dick and literally fuck you to death. You saw him smirk as if he had heard your thought. He most certainly did.

You watched, your body trembling, as he lined himself up with your entrance. Ren did not give you a moment to think before slamming himself into you, bottoming out within seconds. Your view of him was clouded by white-hot stars and he watched as your face contorted from the pain and pleasure of being split in two by him.

Ren's thrusts were erratic, unrelenting as he plowed into your cunt. His fingers dug into your hips, surely leaving bruises... not that it would matter tomorrow. You were completely cock drunk, under some divine spell he had surely cast over you. "Feels... s-s-so.... g-" You trailed off, lost in the violent pleasure he inflicted on your small frame.

He chuckled at your futile attempt to form a sentence. "Look at you, little lamb. Already coming undone at my hand. You want release so badly don't you?" His voice was full of compassion but his words were laced with darkness.

You knew it wasn't only your impending climax that he was referring to. You whined, your eyes welling with tears as you nodded frantically. "Please." You let out in a choked sob.

Ren let out a moan and angled his hips to thrust into you deeper, hitting your g-spot again and again with each erratic snap of his hips. He leaned down slowly, his hair tickling your cheek. "Then let go, sweet thing. Let everything go." He whispered in your ear.

You became putty in Ren's hands as you came, clenching around his cock as he continued to violently plow into you. His lips found yours and he kissed you with wild desperation. After a few more thrusts, he followed suit, bottoming out one last time and letting out a groan as he came deep inside of your cunt.

As you came down from your high, you watched hazily as he fumbled with something on the side of his belt. Ren looked down at you with adoration, and with a swift movement of his hand, you felt ice-cold metal pressed against your naked chest.

When you looked down, it took you a moment to process what had happened. Ren had impaled you through the chest with his lightsaber... yet you felt no pain. Only an intense warmth that radiated through every cell of your body.

Your eyes darted up to his face, illuminated in the crimson glow of his weapon. His expression was soft, attentive. You tried to speak but only a choked whine came out, the air having been stolen from your lungs by the fiery plasma that crackled inside of you.

Ren quickly brought his hand up to hold the side of your face, wiping stray tears and gently stroking your jaw with his thumb. You didn't even realize you had started crying again and you began to taste copper. "Shhh, don't be frightened my mourning lamb. It will all be over soon, just let go... Let go, and you will be mine forever..." His voice was deep but it had a sickeningly sweet quality to it.

You couldn't fully decipher what he was saying, so you focused on how nice he sounded instead. How merciful, you thought, for this voice to be the last one you'd ever hear on this mortal plane.

Your vision began to tunnel in on Ren's face. You thought you heard him call you his mourning lamb. What was it you were mourning again? You couldn't seem to remember what originally got you into this situation. You couldn't seem to remember anything. Anything besides Kylo Ren, that is.

"Finally... At last, you are mine."

The last thing you saw was the smile on his face. There was something... dark about it. His eyes were intense and he looked excited, as if he were finally getting something he'd been waiting ages for. Before you could dwell on it for too long though, everything went black.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic #star wars #starwars fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars sequel trilogy #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #saint writes !#crucifiedfaerie #dark!fic #kylo ren dark!fic #god!kylo au #kylo ren au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Cause of Action 4

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The alcohol clings to your tongue. The flavour is bitter and acidic. You don't like it. You put the shot glass down, hovering awkwardly as Andy brushes his fingertips along his beard and sighs. He turns to face the other man.

"So, you don't have a contract, what do you have? Correspondence? Anything," Andy says.

"Here's the thing, the correspondence isn't exactly PG. I don't know if it would be admissible."

"Hansen," Andy warns as the other man pours himself another drink.

"What? Calm down. I'll get you something. I just... need to find it."

"What does that mean?" Andy grits.

Lloyd nears you, standing close as he leans over to fill your disposed shot glass, "don't waste it, sunshine, I paid a pretty price for the best."

"Stop. She's not here to drink--"

"Maybe you should start, pal," Lloyd pulls away, downing his own shot then drinking straight from the neck of the bottle, "what are you complaining about? I'm gonna cut you a check and you're gonna get this bimbo off my ass. I didn't do anything she didn't ask me to do."

"Maybe you should save your money and just pay out the lawsuit," Andy huffs, "it'd be easier--"

"We both know you're not going to just roll over," Lloyd insists and looks at you, gesturing with the bottle, "I said don't waste my generosity. It doesn't come easy."

Andy doesn't seem to hear the warning. He's rubbing his forehead as he sneers at the ceiling. You give a guilty look and take the shot glass, apologising before you throw back the mouthful with a choke. You seal your lips to keep from spitting it back out.

Lloyd goes over to the couch and sits, knees wide, taking another gulp from the bottle.

"Sit down, let me go over the shit," he demands as he rests the bottle on his leg.

Andy relents, walking around the couch stiffly and sitting in an leather armchair, just on the edge. He watches Lloyd expectantly. The client stifles a belch behind his fist and and snaps his fingers, pointing to the end of the sofa.

"The secretary too," he says.

"Intern," Andy corrects.

You lower yourself carefully and cross your hands over your knee, antsy and a bit disoriented as the alcohol seeps into your bloodstream. You didn't expect to be tipsy this fast.

"Alright, so get this," Lloyd begins, "I'm on TikTok, scrolling, and I see this bimbo..."

Andy flutters his lashes as his cheek ticks. He restrains himself as he listens and you try not to cringe at the lewd retelling of a tangled web of money and unsavoury acts. You lean on the armrest and yawn as Lloyd goes on, growing more theatrical as he unravels the tale of his current predicament.

📖

Another drink is forced on you before Andy firmly takes the bottle away. His exasperation boils over and he yanks away the gin. He sets it down heavily with a clunk as he looms over the other man. Lloyd giggles at the attorney's anger.

"Well, there's my side of the story," he hiccups and shifts to slip his phone out of his pocket and look at the time, "now if you don't mind, I got friends comin'... a few ladies too..." he winks in your direction, "you can stick around if you like, sunshine."

"That's enough," Andy marches towards the door, "we got what we need. Try not to rack up another lawsuit tonight."

"I'll do my darnedest," Lloyd slurs as you stand up, "damn, if that ain't daddy energy, right there."

You look down at the drunken man and fixes his collar. You shake your head and follow Andy. Well, that was the strangest experience of your life. You'll be content to never face anything like that again.

Andy holds the door for you but as you step into the hall, you feel the stir of alcohol and wobble just a little. You're surprise as Andy catches up to you and puts his hand on the small of your back. You press your hand to the wall and murmur and apology.

"You okay?" He asks, closer than you expect, his breath tickling through your hair.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just... I don't really drink."

"Sorry about that, he's pushy like that, I just... didn't wanna argue. Get what I need and... I feel awful now."

"Really, I'm fine," you wave him off and stand straight, "I'm just tired."

You go to the top of the stairs and grab the railing, taking the steps one at a time as you try no to look down. The flashing lights and the music add to your spiraling reality and as you reach the bottom, your empty stomach adds to the skewing of the dark room. You sense Andy behind you and your crushed against him as bodies crowd you.

He grabs your arm, keeping you from falling, and directs you past the web of dancing clubbers. He hurries you along, deflecting writhing bodies with a strong arm and gets you to the doors. You stumble out with him still grasping onto you.

"Jeez," you say out of breath, "it's crazy in there."

"Right," he huffs and squeezes before he lets you go, "lots going on," he combs his fingers through his hair, "you okay?"

"Yeah, fine, just..."

"Hey, let me drive you home," he interjects, "you look like you need to lay down."

"You're probably right," you shrug, glancing back through the club doors.

He gestures you past the queue of people waiting on the sidewalk and you cross to the other side of the street. You get to his car, a bit woozy as you lean against it. Three shots and you're ready to collapse. You're kind of embarrassed.

He unlocks the door and you drop into the car heavily. You close your eyes and try to clear away the gathering cobwebs. This isn't a good look.

"You sure you're doing okay?" Andy asks as he reaches over to pull your door shut.

You snaps your eyes open and eke out, "yeah, sorry."

You buckle your seat belt and try set your head straight. This can't be happening. You're a lightweight but you can't be this bad. You muffle a yawn in your palm.

You lean your elbow on the slim armrest and cradle your head. You just need to get yourself together. You only need to make it home before you... pass out.

#andy barber x reader #dark andy barber #andy barber #dark!andy barber #defending jacob #drabble #series #au #cause of action #the club

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