Hope you're having a good day, fellow human ^^ I'm back with another request. I was maybe thinking of Vance/general!reader where, because of the readers anxiety, they pick and chew at their lips and nails until they bleed. One day the reader and Vance were hanging out and they begun to absentmindedly chew on their nails until Vance saw them and said "am I gonna have to tie your hands behind your back or what?" or something along those lines. They stop, figuring that Vance said something because it was annoying him until the blonde seats himself next to them and holds the hands they were chewing on, mumbling something on how he doesn't like to see them hurting themselves like that
And I did love the Robin and Finney fic you wrote btw 😊
Glad you're back lol ! Hope you like this one :)
Vance Hopper x Reader
'Hand to Mouth, I Guess'
Reader is anxious, mostly about Vance seeing them as a weirdo. Vance isn't having any of that shit.
Anxiety was a bitch.
No, seriously, it sucked. The anxiety itself wasn't even the worst part, it was the looks and comments you got. Especially someone like you, whose anxiety took a more visable road.
See, in TV shows, anxiety is something old women have. Like, 'Oh, my son hasnt called me. He must be dead!' and cue the laugh track. For you, it was more a constant state of being. Not neccisarily specific things, just a persistant way of life.
Which would be fine, but you had a tendancy to bite at your nails and the skin around them when anxious. Which, as covered, was essentially always. This had certainly earned you some odd looks, but you'd learned not to care.
Well, that was until the blonde satan encarnate walked into your life. Yeah, cue Vance Hopper. Aka, the baddest bitch this side of the Mississippi. AAka, your boyfriend.
See, despite the rumours around him, you really liked him. And, yeah, he wasn't exactly 'bring home to mom' material, but who cares about mom when he looks like that?
Still, you'd managed to keep a lid on the skin chewing while around him. Mostly by keeping yourself out of stressful situations, which was getting harder, because the more time you spent with him, the more you liked him. And the more you liked him, the more likely you were to worry about screwing it up.
Today, however, all bets were off. Vance had asked you to come to his house. Which was fine, it wasn't like you were meeting his parents or anything, but still. Not only was it a new enviroment, but you were gping to his house. That was kind of a big deal in the teenage dating community!
You could truly only see this going terribly.
You were at his house.
In case you're not getting it, you were at. his fucking. house! Currently, you and him were sitting on his bed, with Vance reading you his latest Mad magazine.
As you were both laughing at the current comic strip displayed on the page, he reached over, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
Let's get one thing straight, Vance was not an affectionate person. He was kind to you, sure, but physical affection just wasnt his forte. Or verbal affection. Or any affection at all, really.
So, you were shocked at this display of casual touch. And, while sweet, it was unexpected, and was kind of making you a little anxious. Which was fine, it was fine, you didn't mind it. You were willing to exchange a racing heart for being close to your boyfriend.
You didn't even realise you were doing it. It wasn't exactly a consious choice. One minute, you were focusing on reading the magazine, and the next, Vance had grabbed your hand from your mouth.
"Am I gonna' have to fucking tie your hands together, doll?"
The world is over. Fiery explosions, the day of reckoning, everything is going to shit. Because your boyfriend had seen you chewing at your fingers like a coyote stuck in a damn trap, and he was probably mad, and he thought you were a freak, and, oh god, how could he ever love a freak like you, and-
He brought your fingers to his lips. You could feel his lips move as he began to speak.
"I don't like seeing you hurt yourself. Everythings okay, alright babe?"
Well, that was unexpected.
"Uh, I- I mean, um-"
He grinned, moving your hand from his lips, but still keeping it in his grasp. "Hey, wanna listen to my new Black Flag record?"
...Yeah, you really did.
- Car …ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
Also btw, sorry for the lack of posts, I'm actually on vacation ! Still, I'm gonna try to post sorta regularly :)
The Unexpected Human Problem
Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)
Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn't know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she's not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.
Tai'qdei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'qdei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.
Will sense return to Tai'qdei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja's natural inclinations?
And what happens afterwards?
Author's Note: I gave in after watching Prey 2022. lol
I'll be uploading this to Ao3 and Wattpad, as well.
CHAPTER CONTENT WARNINGS: Cultural differences lead to non-consensual touching and stripping. Forced tranquilizer usage, but not for sexual assault purposes.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Rayelle’s chest heaved as she careened through the alien landscape, two moons dolefully watching overhead. Behind her, the raucous crashing and thumping stomps of something large breaking branches behind her. As she raced through the trees and half-tripped over unseen things in the underbrush, her brain worked tirelessly to make sense of the world around her.
The trees weren’t a solid trunk of bark and wood nor the leaves flat and green. Instead, the trees - in orange and red and magenta hues - were like huge braided vines, smooth and slippery looking, with drooping branches and spheres that were presumably fruits or leaves. Rayelle wasn’t sure which. The flora around her shared the same deep purple hue of the globules on the trees, which implied leaves to her. Here and there, she spotted a nocturnal bloom. Usually glowing with some sort of phosphorescence.
If the flora wasn’t disorienting enough, the sounds of the world were worse. Around Rayelle, the sounds of life bubbled up around her, mostly in the distance. Buzzes and chitters and sounds that almost sounded familiar, but weren’t. Oh, they very much weren’t. Shadowy silhouettes scurried or flew away from her, but she couldn’t stop to make sense of them. Too many legs, too many eyes, too much of an odd shape that didn’t fit her mental encyclopedia of animals.
And still there was the ever present pounding footfalls and crashing behind her. No matter how she zigged and zagged or tried to lose her pursuer, they always sounded just a few steps away from snatching her up.
Every time she thought they were close, that she was about to feel the large clawed hands wrap around her and yank her back, flashes of blood splattered through her brain.
Bright red splashes, the squish of meat rending, the crunch of broken bones and cartilage, agonized screams and sobbing. All while she was cowering in that damned cage. Then, from the flickering darkness of the broken spaceship lights, a tall and broad figure appeared. Dripping in blood, dressed in black armor.
Chaos ensued, after they broke open the cage and snapped her chains. In the flickering lights, she threw something at the thing - her water dish, probably - and hurtled from her prison. Everything was a blur from there. She just ran, barreling her way down halls and ignoring the carnage until she found an exit and burst into cool, oddly heavy, night air.
It had taken her a few seconds to realize she was somewhere completely alien. But the creaking of the spaceship as that armored thing followed her startled her into another flee.
They were still pursuing her, through foreign terrain and mud and underbrush. Unless it wasn’t so unfamiliar to them. That thought made Rayelle’s stomach drop.
No matter how painfully her lungs ached and her muscles cried, Rayelle could not stop running. Survival instincts drove her forward, pumping her full of adrenaline as she wildly looked for somewhere safe to hide.
Before such a thing could grace her awareness, her worst horrors became fact.
A clawed hand snatched at the back of her shirt. A scream rent from her lips as her arms and legs flailed, making contact multiple times to something hard and fleshy but not creating any effect. Her back slammed into the cold damp ground, the air escaping her sore lungs, as a warm body dropped atop her.
A single hand clamped around her wrists, pinning her easily to the ground.
She threw herself forward and twisted in the creature’s grip. Her back arching, her feet trying to gain purchase on the ground to slide herself away. She might as well have been doing nothing. It barely made her captor struggle to keep her still.
The thing’s free hand went to her chest, their claws easily slicing the thin fabric. Rayelle jerked as she felt the cool air on her chest. Her desperation renewed as she violently struggled against the alien, needing to escape this situation.
Her heart stumbled as a vibration reverberated from the figure above her. A growl?
For the first time since being caught, she turned her eyes tot he figure’s face. She stared, wide-eyed, into the mask of whoever - whatever - had caught her. An evil little voice reminded her they had killed her abductors earlier, too. Not a small feat.Even though she couldn’t see any copious amounts of blood, the iron tang still clung to the figure. It made Rayelle’s stomach churn.
She almost forgot what the thing was currently doing - her brain filled with the blood-drenched memories - before she felt her shirt shift. It pushed away the sides of her torn top, baring her fully to the air. A whimper died in her throat as the alien’s clawed hands trailed down her front. The pinpricks of those dangerous fingertips traced firmly from her clavicle to her stomach, almost hard enough to scratch her.
It made her skin prickle in a confusing way. She gasped in a sharp breath, her back involuntarily arching under the touch.
The thing seemed to be appraising her. Which was nothing new. Rayelle had seen hundreds of aliens since being stolen from her space station. Whatever the aliens were looking for, it seemed she couldn’t provide.
And she hoped that would still be the case now. They were assessing her. That was it! Maybe they looked for injuries.
But the longer the thing’s palm stayed on her, the more that hope dwindled. It stroked over her breasts and her eyes wrenched shut, still trying to convince herself it meant nothing. All the while, she tried to ignore how her body responded to the touches. Gooseflesh crawled over her skin and her nipples hardened and her stomach churned with a confusing warmth.
A large clawed thumb ran over a puckering nipple and Rayelle choked back another whimper. Disgust fizzled in her stomach as she felt a growing heat, a telltale dampness start between her thighs. Traitorous body, Rayelle thought as she instinctively pressed her legs tightly together. But the creature caught the gesture, nudging their knee between her thighs.
The hand moved lower, until it traced along the elastic waistband of Rayelle’s underwear. Her eyes snapped open, her upper body attempting to jerk forward, to break free as fresh terror bloomed in her head. But she barely moved. Its hold on her wrists was too strong.
Her sudden action caught the thing’s attention, their head cocking slightly. Its clawed finger slowed, its point catching on the fabric. There was a brief second when Rayelle knew what was coming. Before she could even shake her head or issue dissent, the sound of tearing fabric shrieked through the air. It had yanked her underwear off with ease.
A jolt shot through her body, suddenly aware of the strange planet’s ambient temperature and this thing’s too-close presence. Bare and vulnerable, a tremble arched through Rayelle. Her eyes wrenched shut as the thing - the alien, the creature - raised its hand to its mask. There was a hiss and it shifted, likely taking off the covering.
She braced herself. For touches and unwanted penetrations or teeth and tongue and rending flesh. She didn’t know what to expect, other than the worst. Which was a toss up between being devoured or violated.
Then it spoke. It was a series of clicks and guttural gnarls, reminiscent of the snarls and croaks of crocodiles to Rayelle. With effort, she swallowed, before forcing her eyes to open.
She wished she hadn’t done that.
The thing, the alien, was nothing she could have imagined, even as her brain scrambled to make sense of their features. Their skin ranged in color from a light yellow to burnt orange, textured like thick leather or tortoise flesh and speckled. Long tendrils - black near the head and fading to red at the tips - fell from the ridged structure on its head, which flared and rose into small ranges of horn-esque growths.
It partly reminded Rayelle of a dinosaur, until she saw its mouth.
Oh, the worst was its mouth! Four pincers - mandibles, maybe - with sharp curved ends guarded a smaller, lipless maw. A mouth filled with sharp teeth, ready to bite into flesh.
A whimper tore from her throat, her body instinctively pressing away from the strange creature, further into the gunk beneath her. Rayelle suddenly felt dizzy, the alien world around her spinning. Fear, shock, her breaking point. She wasn’t sure what was happening.
Once more, her eyes closed and the alien clicked at her. But the sounds echoed through her head, sickeningly.
It nudged its knee against her sex again. Rayelle wildly wondered if it could feel the preparatory slick, the heat, and misunderstood. It took her brain another second to realize a warm bulge pressed against her thigh. What her brain understood as an erection pulsed against her leg and Rayelle gave another pitiful, choked sob. Tears burned at her eyes, forcing their way through her eyelashes until droplets dribbled down her cheeks.
She had cried so much in the beginning, when she was first taken. When had she last cried? Days ago? Weeks? There was no way for her to tell.
She had thought she’d simply run out of tears, having to deal with life in a cage until the next horrific living situation met her. Being poked and prodded, watching strange creatures come and go. Being fed tasteless slop and offered tangy tasting water. Most had stared. Some had touched her curiously, with touches ranges from gentle to harsh.
None had seemed interested in fucking, which had been a relief.
But it turned out the tears were just welling up inside her. And here, with Rayelle partially stripped and vulnerable, under this massive beast of an alien, was when they chose to come flooding out.
Another round of clicky growls issued, heavy on the gnarl. She didn’t answer. Didn’t think to answer. Her heart just pounded and the hot wet streams slid over her dirty cheeks. Rayelle choked as she felt the creature shift again.
Thankfully, it was getting off of her. It still kept a firm hold of her wrists, pulling her up with it as it stood. Rayelle continued to whimper, unable to stop the flow of tears as she trembled. So enveloped by distress, she didn’t notice how the alien remained slightly bent, so as not to haul her feet off the ground when it got to its feet. With its other hand, it once again affixed the mask to its face, before hauling Rayelle bodily over its shoulder.
Bent over the thing’s shoulder, strong arms locked against her lower back and behind her knees, shook Rayelle out of her misery. Desperation once again gripped her chest. Her shaking fingers balled up, slamming against the creature’s back as it began to move.
Through her tears, she pounded at the creature’s armored back with her fists as her feet wildly kicked at its front, and she sobbed, “No!”
It was no use, though. Just riding along on its shoulder, Rayelle could sense how solid the creature was. They were solid muscle. The armor added another protective layer. Any hint of somewhere weak to strike would be fortified. Not that she could’ve caused any damage, in the state she was in.
But she continued to flail, her begging cries becoming screams. A small part of her hoped that, maybe, if she made too much of a fuss, they’d just leave her. Too much of a hassle. Let her die on this alien planet.
It was better than the alternative.
A brief window of hope opened as the creature stopped. She felt its shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. Maybe it had worked. Maybe it was going to drop her and stride off into the night. It moved its arm away from her knees.
Her heart sunk as she watched the creature’s free arm shift, the hand going to about where a belt would be. There was clicking, a beep, the hydraulic hiss of something opening. Something metal glinted in the moonlight.
Rayelle didn’t know what it was, what it would do to her. It was a cylinder of clear liquid with something metal on the end. Intuition told her it was like a syringe, a shot, a tranquilizer. She savagely squirmed and tried to shove away from the thing again, but the arm around her middle held tight.
“No! Don’t!” The shriek came out involuntarily as she felt cold metal press against her thigh. A sharp pain sliced into her skin, aching and hot. She could feel the liquid invade her vein, cold and harsh. Her shriek became a wordless scream and, for a few seconds, she hysterically jerked and pulled and fought.
Suddenly, the world started to melt around her. Her movements became sloppy, uncoordinated, before falling slack. Her screams dwindled into slurred yells, then drooling complaints, before she fell silent. She thought she felt the world shift under her. A barely coherent thought believed she was moving, it was moving again.
Rayelle wondered what was going to happen now and if would she ever wake again, as darkness consumed her.
After dressing the human in a shift left by a previous mate and depositing them into the brig,0 Tai'dqei tromped his way back to the cockpit. He wanted to suit out and shower first, but he needed to figure out what to do about this new development. Setting a new destination - the drop-off for his bounty - into the navi system, Tai’dqei sat back in his chair.
Finding a human among the targets hadn’t been expected. He supposed he should have been more careful, given his targets traded in an assortment of things. Though Tai’dqei hadn’t heard of them pushing trafficking.
But if opportunities arose, that gang was sure to swipe it. It was a small solace that their heads and spines were now in his cargo hold, waiting to be cleaned and presented as trophies to his employer.
Tai’dqei’s mandibles tightened against his mouth and a small frustration rumble vibrated through his chest. Still, this caused concerns.
Where had the human come from? Earth? One of the colonies? Tai’dqei doubted they’d been born in captivity. There were a number of aliens that abducted humans - among other species - for the novelty of it. That had resulted in generations of humans, unaware of Earth and necessitating a rehabilitator.
They had been well-fed, from Tai’qdei’s assessment. His hand flexed, remembering the feel of them beneath their palm. Soft and warm, no bones on display through the skin. Their flesh felt weak, easily pierced.
Though he wasn’t sure what someone attracted to humans looked for in one. This one had large round pecs, too soft to obtain much muscle. There was a cinch in their middle, though they still had plenty of softness there, before they widened again at their hips.
After touching them, Tai’qdei supposed he could see the appeal. He hadn’t seen many humans in his life, but most weren’t quite as cushiony as this one appeared. And their scent as he touched her had grown increasingly… curious.
Tai’dqei’s fingers curled into a fist as a sudden thought struck him. Had this been a blackhole job? The damned Thrittens had been advertising ‘time travel’ via blackholes recently and a couple had been on the bounty’s payroll. Wanton time hopping had caused an uptick in temporal crimes.
Tai’qdei couldn’t drop the human off just anywhere before. A human born in captivity was in need of rehabilitation. They would be taken advantage of or trafficked easily on a station.
A human from the other side of the universe - even simply the solar system - could have completely different tech-translators than what was needed. An Earth-bred human was even more underprivileged. They usually only had tech-translators for their planets’ languages, not space travel.
A human displaced from their own time? Unaware of technological advances and without something to translate alien language? Not even aware of historical developments?
Tai’qdei wasn’t even sure if there was a rehabilitator - or anywhere - equipped to deal with that. He had yet to hear of such an occurrence.
All of that aside, there was another annoying thought biting at his mind for attention.
He’d taken their scared fleeing as a mating initiation. In his trade, it wasn’t rare to find someone who wished to show their appreciation in carnal fashions. Not to mention, humans were some of the most pliable and enjoyable sex partners, if rumors were to be believed. And there were plenty rumors swirling around humans.
Tai’dqei wasn’t one to pass up recognition, either. Yet, he hadn’t even taken time to consider why they’d been there.
Removing his mask, Tai’qdei let out a growly sigh. A minor ache throbbed at the side of his face, a reminder to what caused his own mistake.
As soon as the human slammed that metal bowl against the side of his head and fled, he’d misinterpreted. His body had shot out of the spaceship, instinct driving his muscles and lurid excitement in his thoughts.
A violent action followed by a chase were some yautja customs. Grab their attention, make them chase you - hunt you - so they could claim their prize.
That was not necessarily the same for everyone, let alone other segments of his own species. Tai’qdei knew that. The high of a hunt accomplished - knowing the human had seen it and believing they had to be impressed by his skill and power - had blinded his logic, though.
He wasn’t even sure if the human knew what he was. Even though they displayed such horror at Tai’qdei’s face, that didn’t translate to much. Many who knew what yautja were capable of feared them. Which they should.
Irritation coursing through his veins, Tai’qdei shoved himself from the chair. He stalked to his training room, grabbing a spear as his tangled thoughts fought for attention.
As he went through his forms, he tried to disseminate the problem. The first step was figuring out where the human came from. But wherever the human came from, they didn’t know how to communicate with Tai’qdei. No translator, no learning, nothing. And he couldn’t communicate back, since he relied on a Straux nano worm to translate.
It wasn’t rare for some of the more isolated colonies and outposts to not know or have translating mechanisms concerning yautja language. They often had out-of-date models with only the most prevalent languages.
Which meant Tai’qdei needed a form of communication. From there, he could determine what the best course of action would be for the human. Options branched out in his head, but before he could explore too many, he slammed the butt of his spear to the floor. Closing his eyes, Tai’qdei took a deep breath.
There was only one other he trusted enough to buy a translator from and to put it in the human’s head. The option made dread and anticipation swell up in his insides.
Tai’qdei made a low clicking growl, his eyes squinting open. Meeting with Ah’ke with mating instincts unsatiated was going to cause complications. He really shouldn’t wait, though. He didn’t know if the human could withstand the life support of his ship, didn’t know if they’d had any modifications done to them. The sooner he got this over with, the better. At least, that’s what he told himself.
He sent a communication to Ah’ke, before placing his spear back on the rack and heading to the showers. Hopefully, cold water would cool the mating fire in his loins. Tai’qdei doubted it, but he could hope.