#roofied drinks tw

[daenerys-targaryen]

haven’t seen this on tumblr so posting from twitter but PLEASE be safe when going to concerts!!!! Even though it’s Taylor Swift and you’d think you’d be safe, there are still some evil people out there so please be mindful and watch out for yourself and your fellow swifties 🫶🏻🩷

[nomsfaultau]

MFR Philza: the glass is half full! ^-^

MFR Wilbur: No the glass is half empty

MFR Techno: actually, the glass is fully of POISON because you guys are trying to DRUG ME AGAIN

MFR Tommy: oooo drugs! Gimmie!!!

Everyone else: NO-!

[helenofsimblr]

Elita: Isaac collected the second drink and when the barmaid whom he had lusted after for weeks turned to grab the nuts off the back wall, he quickly emptied the small bottle of pink liquid into the drink. The gentlemen he had met earlier and purchased this from, for hefty fee, had assured him that this would be all he’d need, and the woman of his desires would want him so bad she would even fuck him in the middle of the street. 

****

Elita: Do you ever wonder how much different life would be if certain things happened slightly differently? What if Isaac hadn’t looked back to the table? What if DC hadn’t been so quick-witted? What if Isaac had specified if it was his right, or hers?

Isaac: Keep the change, yours is on the right. 

Elita: DC’s alarm bell went off immediately, why would it matter which was hers?? Clearly, Isaac was trying to con her and he just slipped up. She scowled at the back of his head and decided that she was going to give him an epic ass kicking for this when he left the club, she would take her break, and he would get the ass whooping of a lifetime…

DC: Thanks…

Elita: DC reached to claim the drink, she would pour that one down the sink instead of her throat…

****

Francine: Finally! I thought I was gonna die of thirst here.

Isaac: Where’d Sarah go?

Francine: Well, let's just say I think Sarah is going to be getting some serious action tonight. I hope she can handle it! 

Isaac: Nice. It’s empowering for her.

Francine: Yeah sure… why not? So why didn’t Guy come with you, I thought you guys were inseparable?

Isaac: Yeah, me too. He moved out, he um… doesn’t talk to me much anymore.

Isaac cast a look over at the barmaid. He needed to go back to the bar again soon…

[kihaku-gato]

Hearing that a drink can actually explode from a roofie if you put the right ingredients into the drink has got to be both the most horrific and glorious information I have ever just-learned.

Uno Reverse card, get assploded creep!

[shotmrmiller]

tw: mentions of roofies, murder, then smut:)

cbf!simon would absolutely kill for you.

cbf!simon has always been your partner in crime.

even in your youth, back when he was built like a daffodil, he was always by your side. kept you safe from the mean girls at school, always got in trouble for throwing hands at boys who made crass comments at you and the like. then he'd left his butcher job to join the military. "I gotta learn how to keep you safe, love. i'll always come back to ya."

and he had. he returned to you almost four times his size; he left a boy and came back a man. down to your very bones, you knew that he would always keep you safe.

which is why he was the first person you called when the guy next to you at the bar roofied your drink. the beer fizzed irregularly and had an almost milky colour even though it was an ipa.

the idiot had dared to smile at you, an oily, crooked grin with yellow teeth, and lifted his own glass to toast with you.

you bolted out of your seat in seconds, heading straight to the ladies' room, and dialed.

he answered on the second ring.

"please come get me." you hadn't meant to sound as terrified as you felt.

"be there in 5," then hung up.

he lived 15 minutes away from the dingy bar.

true to his word, he was there in 5, texting where you were at.

inside the ladies bathroom.

he let himself in, put his jacket around your quivering shoulders, and with a strong, comforting arm, guided you toward the exit and into his truck. simon remained silent as he sat you in the passenger seat, gently pulling the seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place.

he stood next to you, his hands resting on your jean-clad thighs, waiting patiently for you to explain.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you sort out your thoughts. you no longer felt afraid, that much was certain. simon has always been your pillar of strength. there was nothing to fear with him at your side.

so why do your hands continue to tremble? digging deeper, you realize that you're angry. no.

furious.

some imbecile thought he'd take advantage of you. if you'd been any more drunk, you would have been a victim— wound up lifeless in a dirty ditch.

you burned with fury, your blood boiling under your skin. how dare he? how dare he?

simon softly touches your tightly clenched hands, coaxing your fingers to unfurl.

everything pulls hard to port when your eyes land on his disfigured knuckles— scarred by battle. you've never liked what simon did for a living. he just fought and killed people that some higher-up told him were the bad guys.

in war, there is no good or bad side. the field is too soaked in blood for anyone to recognize where the line is if there even was one to begin with.

until now. just this once, you couldn't be more grateful that simon possesses the skills he does.

you make your decision. "there was a guy in there. green hat, ugly brown jacket with yellow, crooked teeth. he drugged my beer, then toasted me so i would drink it."

his hands tighten around yours marginally. "and now i'm here, safe, with you. but he's still in there, with potentially a pocket full of pills, on the lookout for his next victim. how am i supposed to sleep tonight, knowing that if someone goes missing tonight, the blood will be on my hands?"

you cut your eyes to his dark, hardened ones, and the words tumble out of your mouth with surprising ease.

"there's trash in there that needs throwing out, simon."

nothing but a wretched mongrel that needs to be put down.

simon's nod is subtle, but it's there. you exhale a shuddering breath, heart slamming against your ribcage.

he's a gun in your hand, and you've just pulled the trigger.

simon hands you the keys to the truck. "are you sober enough to drive home?" he quietly asks.

hard to keep a buzz when you almost became a victim of—

"yes."

he's opening the glove compartment, taking out his skeleton gloves, and a tac knife that he tucks inside the waistband of his jeans.

"go home. i'll see ya in a bit." his voice is flat, lifeless.

simon closes the door and raps his knuckles on the hood of the truck before heading inside.

and so the elephant marches to war.

-

it's well past midnight when he crawls in through your window. one moment his boots are on the windowsill, the next he's pinning you onto your mattress, hips flush against yours.

his chilly, clean hands lift the hem of your loose shirt, dimpling the soft skin that his fingers dig into— his bare lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"he is no longer a problem."

he grinds his clothed erection against the flimsy fabric of your sleeping shorts.

"you did the right thing by telling me what he did."

simon trails a path of open-mouthed kisses from your ear down to your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

"nothing gets me harder than when my girl looks at me to keep her safe."

your breath hitches when a hand begins to move south, lifting the waistband of your bottoms and sliding his fingers over your slick pussy. "it seems you like it too. does it turn you on, ordering me around like a dog? i bark at your command, pet."

one finger sinks into your wet heat, his groan drowning out your own.

"you like having this much power over me? how easily i bend to your will?" he croons.

there are two fingers in you now, so much thicker than your own, and the way they curl and drag along your nerves has your toes tingling. he takes you to the precipice at frightening speed— the expert hands that kill without remorse are the same ones that are bringing you your pleasure.

he thrusts his fingers into you with an obscene squelch and a thumb circles your slippery clit.

"i'd burn the world to ashes if you asked it of me."

the coil in your stomach is tight, your body tense in anticipation.

"so... would you? would you ask me to bring the world to its very knees?"

the answer sits on the tip of your tongue when you climax around his fingers, walls pulsing rhythmically, arousal dripping from his knuckles.

later will be a good time to reflect on how you don't feel even remotely guilty for what's been done.

for now, you focus on how good simon feels as he slowly sinks into you, splitting you wide open with his heavy cock.

-

simon finds no pills in the guy's pockets. no baggie, no bottle.

nothing.

shame that his little love has declared the guy's life forfeit.

your wish is his command.

[sophiagrimes]

guys. maybe its just where i live. but apparently the EMERGENCY ROOM of a hospital didnt have and never has tests for rohypnol?? like my friend was showing all the symptoms of being roofied and we took her straight there and they were like “yea we dont have that. we’ll test for other drugs” [she came back negative which we all fucking knew that it would] and her alc level was only at 100 something when guy said he was expecting to see it at 400/500 something. then they told her to NOT EAT FOR 24 HOURS?? then we went home. and thats what happened from 2am-6am. then i slept from 6:30 to 2pm.

[superhoeva]

Hi! New here. 🍻✨ For bouncer!Logan, I feel like we need some kinda roofie moment—whether us or we spot someone else being roofied and Logan loses his composure—I just feel like it’s begging for life.

tw: drugging/roofie mention, violence, injury (mentioned), smut, oral (m receiving), bodily fluids (mentioned), almost darkish!logan. mdni.

oh man, if someone were to try and fuck with you or anyone else around bouncer!logan, it's game over. lights out.

he's there before you even touch the drink. it all happens too fast. there's a flash of fitted black tee and bulging biceps, logan growling for the bartender to watch the front while he drags the creep to the back office.

the ride home after is quiet. silent, actually, other than the revving of his engine. you don't say anything about how clenched his jaw is or how hard his hands grip the steering wheel. you don't even ask about the guy... the rough bruising of logan's knuckles tells you what happened well enough.

not much is said until you've got him leaning against your bathroom counter, cleaning his knuckles with gauze and rubbing alcohol. his gaze doesn't even try to move off your face. watching you and your features, trying to stop the angry fire from burning his belly.

"never had anyone beat someone up for me..." you mumble, peeking at logan who's still looking at you.

"too cute for me to believe somethin' like that," logan grumbles back, the thumb of his unoccupied hand reaching to caress your chin. his mouth quirks when a huffing laugh blows from your nose. "i mean that. pretty enough to make a man crazy."

you're perfect. logan was sure of it before and certain of it with the way you slurp and lap at the head of his cock. you had him caged against the counter and jeans unzipped before he could think to stop you.

he thinks he's going to break into a million pieces when you glance up at him, eyes wide and chin sticky with a messy layer of spit. the sounds you make his insides tremble. you're gagging and coughing around him and refuse to pull away. logan's unable to stare down at you for more than a few seconds before his head is throwing back, a thick groan leaving his parted mouth.

his hands–bruises shining across the back–manage to find your cheeks, helping slide his cock even deeper with a desperate rut of his hips.

logan wonders if you know he'd do a lot more than beat someone up for you... a lot worse if it means keeping his pretty thing safe...

more bouncer!logan | send in bouncer!logan ideas

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[ikarakie]

tw / roofies

after corroded coffin goes big, sometime in the mid 90s, they go on tour. mostly in smaller venues and little dive bars, but eddie fucking loves it. drags robin and steve along with him as his 'managers' (see: freeloaders) mainly because he wanted his boyfriend with him and knew he couldn't keep birdie away from him for that prolonged period of time. it would be cruel.

mid-way through the tour, they perform in a bar. eddie likes to mill around after, chat to fans, get a drink, sign things, peacock a little. this time is no different. until robin comes up to him, noticeably alone. he asks where steve is at the same time she does. not fucking good.

they both scour the bar, and eddie's about two seconds away from ripping his hair out when robin grabs his arm and points to a booth in the corner. it's filled with girls, all in battle vests and dark eye makeup, and nestled between two of them on one side is steve. he's slumped over, head rested on the table, pillowed by one of the girl's hoodies. there's an empty glass beside another half empty one, both seemingly water. he rushes over.

they're a bit surprised to see him. when he asks after steve, they regard him with fucking suspicion. he has to show them the polaroid he carries around with him to make them soften. they explain they'd spotted him looking a bit dazed, and called him over. he'd told them he thought someone, somewhere, had slipped something in his drink and he couldn't find his friend, and so they'd squished him between them to keep him safe. eddie feels his heart burst, especially seeing the little corroded coffin pins on all their jackets and bags.

he gently shakes steve awake, presses a kiss to his temple and hands him off to robin, who carefully escorts him to the back exit where their van is parked. thanks the girls, profusely. they try to wave him off but he refuses to leave until he has all their names, has signed at least one thing for each of them and taken a photo with them on their camera.

years and years and years down the line, he still mentions them in interviews. by name. gushes about how they're the original corroded coffin fans, how dearly he loves them, and how if anyone is allowed to gatekeep in his fandom, it's them. every time he sees them at barrier for a concert he fucking lights up and calls them out. they're hailed by fans as minor celebrities, even. only they, steve (who calls them each every holiday and has actually become fucking friends with them) and robin know why they're so close.

[peachykindaok]

It’s been awhile….let’s get straight to it. TW; drugs, dark, non-con (duh), Kylar’s really scummy but I like scummy :)

☆ I saw a post on twitter about this guy spreading coke on his gums because he thought it’d make a girl addicted to him and that was very much Kylar coded.

☆ Kylar would definitely drug you at any given chance, snapped or not.

☆ Kylar is the type of guy that convinces you to let him hold your drink at a party after watching you all night so he could stick three roofies in it- just to be ‘safe’. He even helps you try to find the guy who did it the day after with a knowing smile, taking full opportunity to spend more time with you.

☆ Kylar would feed you edibles disguised as a cute treat before class for the hell of it, watching your spaced out expression as he corners your seat by the window and happily gives lazy rubs across your slit while filling out both of your worksheets.

☆ Kylar is thrilled to find that xanax zombies you the fuck out, he himself even a little scared when you completely slump against the bed and debates actually taking you to the hospital…but not before a grope or two just to make sure.

☆ Kylar contemplates some harder material but isn’t looking forward to actually killing you anytime soon(that’s literally the only thing stopping him).

☆ Kylar eventually convinces you to try some stuff that he refuses to say how, when, or where he got it; his eyes watches carefully as you strip it on your tongue and the effects lasts long enough for him to be not so careful with your body as he roughly thrusts inside of you, hunched over with his face smothered in your neck to muffle the soft, huffy sounds that leave his lips.

☆ Kylar sometimes imagines that you know he does these things, a false hope that one day you’d be into his delusional fantasies about just getting blasted and sloppily making out in the middle of the park or something. He jerks off to the thought of it.

☆ Kylar is a literal criminal, he doesn’t care about the consequences of the hundreds of pictures downloaded to his laptop of his multiple findings and ‘experiments’ with you. All types of angles of your body and face, whether you’re completely faded or just nearing so, he just doesn’t care(it’s also good jerk it material when you’re surrounded by too many LI’s for that day).

Bye-☆

[tikosblogg]

Can I put in a request where you and Noah are at the same party/club and somebody puts something your drink, and he just so he opens to be near you when you’re getting dizzy, and you ask him for help? I totally see Noah doing everything in his power to help a girl who has been roofied. Also I love your writing!❤️

ABSOLUTELY! This is definitely Noah coded. Noah would totally help any woman he saw this happening to. Thank you🥰

Summary: your best friend is dating Matt the tour manager for bad omens, and she brings you along to one of there parties where you’re roofied, and have to ask Noah for help.

Warning/TW: alcohol consumption, being drugged(plz don’t read if that triggers you), protective Noah, TINY bit of violence?? Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I feel like Noah would definitely do this for a woman, whether he knows her or not.

The air was thick and the sound of laughter and music bled into the night from the small, dimly-lit bar. Droplets of condensation rolled down the cool glass of your half-empty drink as you leaned against the polished wood of the bar.

Tara, your best friend, her cheeks rosy from a cocktail she was drinking, was perched on a stool next to you. She had dragged you along to this party thrown by none other than Bad Omens—a band you had been obsessed with since high school.

You had waited patiently, hoping for the moment when Tara would introduce you to the band, but they were constantly wrapped up in conversations with other friends and associates. “I’m sorry, y/n I didn’t know they’d be so busy.” She slurred, her eyebrows furrowing in pity.

You shook your head with a small laugh at her intoxicated state. “It’s fine Tara, I promise. I can meet them another time.” You did your best to suppress the feeling of disappointment. There would be other opportunities, and tonight, you promised yourself, you would have fun regardless.

As the night unfolded, you nursed your second drink while Tara giggled and stumbled about, her laughter infectious, pulling you into the joy of the evening. You met some interesting people and shared stories that made the night feel surreal.

Suddenly, Matt, the band’s charming tour and production manager, and also Tara’s boyfriend broke through the crowded space, a warm smile gracing his face. He wrapped an arm around Tara, steadying her on her feet.

"I see you two had fun," he chuckled, looking down at her. “C’mon I’ll get you two home.” The affectionate way he regarded Tara made your heart swell for her. He threw her over his shoulder, leaving a playful smack to her ass, as she giggled.

You waved your hand at them, giggling at the sight in front of you. “I’ll meet you outside, I just need to use the bathroom!” Matt nodded, and they began to weave through the colorful crowd.

You turned back toward the bar, finishing off your drink and scrunching your nose at the unexpected bitterness that lingered at the back of your throat. It was strange, but you shook it off as you made your way to the restroom.

Once inside, you handled business quickly before approaching the sink to wash your hands. However, as you turned the tap, a wave of dizziness crashed over you like a sudden tide, knocking you off balance. Panic shot through your chest. Something doesn’t feel right. You only had two drinks. You stared at yourself in the mirror, and started to piece together that strange taste in your drink; someone must have slipped something in it when you were turned away.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you grabbed your phone, desperate to contact Tara or Matt. Stumbling out of the bathroom, the corridor stretched out in front of you like a maze, and you desperately leaned against the wall for support. You were spiraling now, your surroundings a blur.

Suddenly, the sound of the men’s room door creaked open. A tall figure emerged, and you squinted through your haze to see Noah Sebastian, looking at you with a playful smile. “Somebody had too much to drink.” You shook your head, reaching your hand out towards him. If you couldn’t get to Matt or Tara, you knew you’d be safe with Noah.

His laughter died instantly as he noticed your panicked expression. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked reaching for you, and stepping closer, a frown taking over his features. He noticed the tears forming in your eyes, and running down your cheek. “Hey it’s okay.”

You shook your head weakly, trying to speak but the words fell out in a slur. “Someone… put something in my drink,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His demeanor shifted in an instant, anger etching deep in his eyes. “What the fuck? Okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m right here,” he assured you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist as you wavered.

“Who’d you come with?” he cupped your cheek, bringing your blurry eyes up to his, his voice steady amidst your rising panic.

“Matt… and Tara,” you mumbled, desperation creeping into your voice. Your hands gripped his shirt tight, terrified of being taken away.

He paused briefly, recognition flickering across his face. “Y/n?” A faint light of realization sparked in his eyes. Matt had told him, that Tara was bringing you with her tonight. You nodded, your head feeling 1000 pounds. You leaned forward pressing your forehead against his chest as you felt your knees begin to buckle beneath you.

“Shit” he grunted, holding you tighter. Before you realized what he was doing, he hoisted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You brought your heavy arms up and around his neck, holding on tightly. You felt dizzy, your world slowly dimming as the edges of your vision faded into darkness.

Just then, a rough-sounding guy approached, his eyes dead set on your shaking body, as you heard his deep voice from behind you. “Hey man thanks for finding her she’s with me.” he smiled at Noah, reaching out to pull you from his arms. Your body trembled in horror, as you shook your head weakly sobbing into Noah’s neck, your hands fisting his shirt against his back.

You tried to speak, but your mouth was dry, and completely numb. Noah knows nothing about you. He could hand you off to this creep, thinking he’s saving you, when really he would be unknowingly confirming your possible death.

Noah’s eyes turned icy, his grip tightening protectively around you. “Get the fuck out of my way. You’re the piece of shit that did this to her aren’t you?” he growled, anger radiating off him. Noah body went tense against you.

If he wasn’t holding you in his arms right now, he would beat the fuck out of this creep. He took a deep breath, remembering that you and getting you out of here, was what was important right now.

The stranger’s bravado crumbled in the face of Noah’s fury, panic flickering across his features “I’m her friend dude, she came here with me!” He defended, crossing his arms. Noah knew who you came with, and even you confirmed it.

He decided to test him anyways. “Oh yeah? What’s her name?” The guy became flustered, before shaking his head. “I don’t have to tell you shit man, just give her to me.” He huffed, and went to step towards Noah.

Noah instantly kicked up his right leg, kicking the dude right in his dick. Usually Noah would think that’s a low blow, but his hands were kind of occupied at the moment, and he needed to get the dude on the ground. Noah went to walk away with you until he turned around, landing another kick right in the dudes ribs for good measure.

You felt weak, your eyelids growing heavy, and just as the world began to dim in earnest, Noah’s voice broke through the haze. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, hold on.”

In your daze, you felt him stride confidently through the crowd, shielding you from curious eyes, his strong arms cradling you against his chest like you weighed nothing. He suddenly stopped, as you barely heard his voice.

Noah stopped, talking to Jolly and Nicholas. “There is a guy on the ground in the hallway. Go stay with him and do not let him leave! I’ll explain later.!” The two men instantly nodded, and headed towards the hallway.

That was the last thing you heard, before finally succumbing to the sleepiness you tried so hard to fight.

Outside, noah spotted Matt, beelining straight for him. Matt’s worried voice, filled the air, as Noah approached. “Woah what happened??” He opened the back door, letting Noah gently place you on the seats.

A sudden rush of relief filled his body, as he closed the car door, knowing you were safe. He turned towards Matt, running a hand through his hair. “Some ass hole slipped something in her drink. I just so happened to walk out of the bathroom, while she was stumbling down the hall.”

Matt’s eyes widened, as he looked towards your limp body in the backseat of his car, and back to Noah’s seething frame. “Holy shit dude, I shouldn’t have left her. I should have waited on her.” Matt covered his face with his hands, as the guilt ate at him.

Noah shook his head, ready to go back into the party, to beat the fuck out of that creep before he called the cops. “No, it shouldn’t have fucking happened here. Somebody fucking brought him here, and I wanna know who, I’m gonna take care of him, you get her to the hospital.”

Matt nodded his head without another word before, jumping in the car, and speeding out of the parking lot, while Noah made his way back into the building making damn sure this guy pays for what he did to you.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Imagine: You're with your brothers at the bar when you get roofied.

TW: sexual assault, mention of rape, roofies

A/N: I got this request from someone who's struggling with this situation and finds comfort in these fics. Please reach out for help if you need it.

You stood at the bar with your brothers, waiting for your drinks. You were of course getting water even though you were 21, you just didn’t really enjoy drinking like your brothers did. But it was your idea to come because you knew your brothers enjoyed themselves there and the hunt you just had was a pretty good one so it definitely called for some sort of celebration.

Sam excused himself to the bathroom and Dean walked down the bar a few feet to go talk to some chick. His back was now facing you when the man next to you turned to look at you.

He looked you up and down like you were some kind of meat. Immediately your guard was up and you tried to distance yourself in what little space you had. You could feel his eyes on you and you held back a shudder. Something just did not seem right.

You looked towards Dean and saw he was in a pretty deep conversation with the girl- well as deep as you can get with one at a bar. You didn’t want to interrupt him, but you did feel slightly uncomfortable so you could only hope for Sam to make his way back from the bathroom quick.

You saw the bartender finishing up with the last of your drinks when the man beside you spoke, “Hey sexy. What are you doing here all alone. It’s dangerous for someone like you to be here by yourself.” You were just about to tell off the prick when at the same time the bartender put your drinks down on the bar. “I’m not here alone,” you said motioning to the three drinks hoping he would pretty much take the hint. This would be a great time for Sam to come back you thought. Where the hell was he and how long does it take to use the frigging bathroom. “Aw you don’t gotta be like that, but I’ll tell you what. You girls that are hard to get are the best ones.” You felt sick and as you scooted away from him about to grab your drinks, he pulled you in tight. The motion caught you off guard and you whipped around knocking Sam’s drink off the bar. The drink spilled everywhere and the man released you. “Fuck,” you mumbled. Dean came walking over to you, “At least it’s was Sammy’s drink and not mine,” he chuckled. You mumbled a sorry to him and Dean put his hands on your shoulders giving them a squeeze, “Don’t worry about it kid.” He turned to the bartender, and told him that he would buy another drink and to remake it as they cleaned up the spill. You turned your head to give the man that grabbed you a “Yeah thanks for that asshole”, but he was already gone. You sighed in relief and relaxed a little bit. The bartender came back over and set Sam’s drink down just as Sam was making his way back over. You all grabbed your drinks and took a sip. “Jeez Sammy, you took forever in the bathroom,” you said teasing him and giving him a little elbow. He chuckled and pointed to a girl across the bar, “I actually got to talking with her over there.” Dean laughed giving Sam a pat on the back, “You sly dog.” Sam chuckled and made his way back over to her. You assumed Dean was also heading right back to the girl he was talking to so you thought it would be best to find a seat somewhere. “Hey I’m going to head over to that table to finish my drink,” you said. He gave you a nod and told you to be careful.

You sat at the table taking a few sips, noticing Dean glance at you here and there to make sure you were okay. Your thoughts were cut off quick when your vision started getting fuzzy. You gripped the table tightly as you saw the room start to spin. Your head felt extremely heavy and you brought your hands to your head to steady yourself. You stood up abruptly, scared you were dying or something was seriously wrong when you felt arms loop around you. Dean? Sam? “Is she alright?” You heard someone ask. The person who had you replied, “Yes me and my girlfriend just had a little too much fun, she’s a lightweight,” she felt him chuckle and hurry away. Wait girlfriend? Lightweight? This wasn’t Dean or Sam and you could also spot their voices from a mile away. You cracked your eyes open and made out a fuzzy version of the creepy man from earlier. Your heart began to pound as you came to realization. He roofied you. This could not be happening. You started thrashing, clawing, struggling to try to escape, but you were so weak. The only thing you could do was fight for consciousness and hope Dean or Sam noticed you in time. Your thoughts were cut short and your heart sank realizing he had already made his way outside with you. You couldn’t even hear the busy bar anymore when you felt your body be slammed to the ground.

This was it, you thought. You were about to be violated in the darkest way possible. You were about to be vulnerable for the very first time with some random predator who drugged you and forced himself on you.

You cried when you felt him unbutton your pants and pull them down to your ankles. “Relax,” he said, “I’ll make you feel good.” You whimpered, trying to move your limbs to give you a fighting chance, but they just felt so heavy. He crashed his lips onto yours and you moved your head to the side. That didn’t stop him as he started trailing down your neck instead. You were crying, but it was like you were paralyzed. Just when you thought it was going to get worse, his weight got ripped off of you.

You felt someone else grab you and you whimpered and thrashed, “please no.” The person pulled you into them, “hey hey hey it’s okay bug. Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s sam. I got you,” he said caressing your hair. “Sammy?” you cried. “Yeah bug it’s me, I’m here.” You looked up at him and saw Dean behind him, punching the man over and over again. He was bloodied and unconscious. You cried, “De?” He gave the scumbag one last dick to the ribs and looked over at you. You felt like you were going to pass out and you were terrified to. Dean definitely took notice and hurried to your side, “hey, hey, hey, hey, you alright sweetheart?” You saw the world spinning and darkness closing in. You tried fighting it. You didn’t want to pass out, scared of what might happen to you. “Dean I- I’m gonna,” she look up at him terrified, “I’m scared,” you whimpered. “I know kid, I know. We got you, if you pass out just know you’re safe. No matter what happens you’re going to be safe. We won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe sweetheart.” As you slipped away you felt Sam tuck you into his chest and you knew your brothers would always protect you.

[artyandink]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

A/N 2 - All the chapters are named after drinks. The intensity of the chapter depends on the drink I chose for the title :) and banners are by @cafekitsune

TW: Alcohol (duh), mentions of drugs, roofies, abuse, mentions of abuse/r@pe, smoking, Ruby (she’s a warning in itself), unhinged group chat (also a warning in itself)

two - daiquiri

Megolodon: Cassieeee

Casanova: What?

Megolodon: You’re late

You: Yeahhhh, we’ve been waiting for weeks

Ben Dover: Sabbatical’s over, brother

Casanova: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Ruby-gina George: To hell with fifteen minutes, get your ass over here

Megolodon: Listen to the nice lady

Ruby-gina George: Shut up

Megolodon: Bite me

Ruby-gina George: Keep it up and I just might

Megolodon: I bet you’d like to

bDe: didn’t know you two swung that way

You: Neither did I

Ruby-gina George: WAIT NO

ScarJo: That’s news to me

Ben Dover: News to all of us, darling

Queen B: I leave for FIVE MINUTES and we’re already out of the closet

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Ruby-gina George: HELL NO

Ruby-gina George: NO CLOSETS

Megolodon: THAT WASN’T THE MEANING-

ScarJo: We accept you, dw

Ruby-gina George: die in a hole

bDe: sounds like overcompensating

Ruby-gina George: ALL OF YOU DIE IN A HOLE

The clink of glasses filled the atmosphere, along with merry shouts, whistles and cheers as glass after glass slammed down onto the counter. But it wasn’t patrons, no. Afternoons were always chilled out, since not many patrons stopped by. The evenings always got the raunchiest. So here you all were, egging on Castiel and Benny in a shot contest. There were five shots of the Roadhouse’s strongest bottle of hard liquor, and you were all seeing who could down them the fastest. None of the people in the room were lightweights. There were lightweights, heavyweights, and then there were the bartenders at the Roadhouse, who Meg liked to call ‘jumbo-weights’.

“DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!” You were yelling, your voice mixed with those of Dean, Meg, Bela, Ruby and Jo. Benny finished first, slamming down the shot glass and whooping loudly, not even that buzzed while Cas dejectedly sipped his last shot, having missed by the fraction of a second.

“Cassie, sweetie, don’t beat yourself up about it.” Meg purred, gripping Cas’ shoulders tightly from behind. “You’re out of practice.”

“Or maybe I’m just good at throwing ‘em back.” Benny smirked, but then his smile dropped. “That sounded better in my head.”

“Glad we can agree.” You snickered, then cleared up the shot glasses. “C’mon, what next?”

“Meg.” Ruby shot up from her seat, beckoning her over. “You. Me. Shot challenge. Now.”

“So polite.” Meg drawled, but got up anyway, a familiar sultry smile on her lips as she lined up for the competition. “Bring it on, darling, I can do this in my sleep.” Benny racked the shots, a giggle coming from your mouth as Dean awkwardly looked to Castiel.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Dean smiled, putting his hand out. “Dean. Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak, but everyone calls me Cas.” Cas shook Dean’s hand, finding himself warming up to this stranger.

“Cas.” Dean repeated under his breath, then nodded. “Alright, Cas. Let’s get you some water to wash down that hard liquor.”

“That would be ideal.” Cas nodded, instantly following Dean. In the meantime, Ruby and Meg were slamming back shots, and Ruby was just tagging behind Meg. You were egging them on, but you noticed something. Ruby usually downed shots easy as breathing. Now she wasn’t, which confused you. However, you brushed it off. It couldn’t be something bad. Your resident Regina George always was tough as hell.

Ruby-gina George: Been there, done that messed around

Megolodon: I'm having fun, don't put me down

Ruby-gina George: I'll never let you sweep me off my feet

Megolodon: THIS TIME BABY, I’LL BE BULLETPROOFFFFFF

You: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUUUUUUU

bDe: *dies of laughter*

ScarJo: I’ve been on a beer run for FIVE MINUTES and y’all go mad

Queen B: Tsk tsk, eyes on the road, hon

ScarJo: Joke’s on you, I’m in the store

Ben Dover: Damn, how’d you get there so fast

ScarJo: I stole the keys to Val

Queen B: explosion incoming-

You: You did WHAT?!

ScarJo: I’M SORRY SHE’S A FAST CAR

You: YOU’RE GONNA PAY

Megolodon: Girlie, it’s just a car

Ruby-gina George: how dare you, Val’s a masterpiece

Megolodon: I mean, she shouldn’t take it that heavily

bDe: no she absolutely should, go to town sweetheart

You: THANK YOU

Ben Dover: Dean, brother, don’t encourage that behaviour

bDe: i will

Ben Dover: What if someone stole your car, then

bDe: murder

ScarJo: oh wow

You: SOMEONE GETS IT

bDe: lots of murder

Ben Dover: Brother-

bDe: torture first

bDe: lots of torture, then a whole lotta murder

ScarJo: Benny, you chose the wrong role models

You: shut up, YOU TOOK VAL

bDe: then more murder, and i’m gonna throw the bodies in a lake, no one will ever know

Ruby-gina George: Hold up, I’m coming with you

You: Jo, I’ve got your gravestone prepped

ScarJo: And you say we’re unhinged

You: Get your ass back to the roadhouse

bDe: i’ll get away with it, I swear

Megolodon: Why am I actually enjoying this

bDe: if I can’t have my baby, no one can

Evenings were always the more raunchy of times at the Roadhouse. The bar was now full of chatting passers-by, girls dressed in skimpy clothes and biker boys with tattoos winding around their necks. The shift today was yours, Ruby’s, Dean’s and Meg’s. There were an overwhelming amount of females working at the Roadhouse, if you were incredibly honest. As for the employees not working behind the bar, they were roughing it up at a booth, hollering and hooting like owls at a baseball game.

“So, darlin’, what do you do in your free time?” Dean asked you, cleaning out a glass with a rag and shooting a wink to a couple of giggling girls nearby. You poured a whiskey for a patron, sliding it across the table.

“Well, I’m a big fan of joyrides.” You answered with a goofy grin. “My Mustang’s always fun to take a spin in.” The mention of your Mustang got Dean’s eyebrows up to his hairline as he pointed out of the window.

“That beaut’s yours?” He exclaimed in disbelief, laughing. “Damn. That’s a serious muscle car.”

“Yeah, my Valkyrie. Val’s my sweetheart, always will be.” You looked up wistfully at the mention of your beloved car. “And your Chevy Impala, she’s absolutely gorgeous. I could listen to her purr all day.”

“That’s my Baby.” He bore the same wistful look you did, then nudged you. “We should take ‘em out for spins. Y’know, joyrides.”

“You sure?” You chuckled, looking up at him. “I don’t drive easy.”

“Even better.” He gave you a little wink paired with a click of his tongue. He flipped a bottle in his hand, pouring a whiskey shot expertly and handing it to you. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” You took the shot with a chuckle, sending the glass over to the sink. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“You’re very welcome.” He poured himself a shot and downed it, and you couldn’t help but focus slightly on his pouty, pink lips, almost hyper-fixating on them. But you tore your eyes away to serve a customer at the bar, a rather shady-looking guy who had a snake tattoo on his neck. He was also wearing sunglasses inside, which had Dean raising an eyebrow.

“You know who wears sunglasses inside?” He muttered into your ear as the man ordered a glass of Jack Daniel’s with his eyes on Meg. “Blind people… and douchebags.”

“I can’t fault you for that logic.” You laughed, pouring the man a glass and passing it to him as you turned back to Dean. “About that joyride, I’m down.”

His eyes lit up, a puppy-like grin now on his face as he fully faced you, elbow leaning on the counter. You couldn’t help but stare deep into those mossy eyes, mirroring the infectious smile on his face just as Meg stumbled up to you both with a groggy smile on your face, whiskey glass clutched tightly in her hand.

“You t-two look so… cute.” She giggled, leaning heavily on you. You saw the glass cup in her hand, and you caught a whiff of… Jack Daniel’s? “Smilin’ at each other, lovin’ each other, so adorable!” You raised an eyebrow, holding her steady as she continued to ramble. “You should marry each other. Ugh, I feel so… weird.”

“Does Meg usually get this slammed?” Dean whispered, and you shook your head, confused. That’s when Ruby sprang out from behind the bar, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his neck and slamming his head roughly down on the counter. “Woah, damn!”

“Ruby!” You gasped, but she snatched the glass from your hands and showed you the contents. There was a powdery white substance in it that you instantly recognised. “Damn it- she’s been roofied.”

“Bastard thought he was smooth with it.” She growled, holding the guy down. “It takes Meg a lot of strong tequila and a Long Island to make her that slammed.”

“I’m surprised you know that, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m callin’ the police. Get this jackass locked up.” Dean glared daggers at who could’ve been Meg’s potential assaulter as he dialled the emergency number and explained the situation. Meg clung onto you, and you felt bad for her as you went to haul her off to bed, entertaining her every mindless babble about something or the other.

“You’re pretty.” Meg slurred as she hobbled with you. “You look like Rubes. She’s pretty too. Very pretty.”

“Yeah, she’s gorgeous.” You replied dryly, not out of disdain for Ruby but rather out of extreme concern for your friend. “Absolutely stunning.” Though there was part truth in that. You’d always wanted to be like Ruby- not give much of a damn. Able to speak every weird and/or rude comment that came to her mind and everyone would worship her for it. She could talk openly about where she came from, confidently, with a flick of her blonde hair and my-give-a-hoots-are-on-vacation attitude, but you weren’t inclined to open your mouth about it. “Let’s get you in here.”

You opened the door to your bedroom, limping to the bed and just letting Meg flop- “Wheeeeee!” She squealed as she went, but then was out cold the moment her face hit the mattress. You smiled at her antics despite the seriousness of the situation, drawing up your blanket and tucking her in, staying with her for a bit until you were sure she was ok. Then, as you descended the stairs, you’d found that the gang had cleared out the bar, which was helpful in the current climate. Especially now that the dude had been carted off to the nearest station.

You made eye contact with Ruby, who looked livid, but softened slightly when she saw you. “Is she ok?” She asked expectantly, and the tension seemed to lift a fraction when you nodded.

“We’re gonna have to tell my mom about this.” Jo sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. “She’s gonna be pissed.”

“The dude who tried his luck on Meg?” Dean shrugged, his brow furrowed a tad in concern. “His luck’s gonna say adiós once Ellen gets her hands on him.”

A few days later, you were up early, sat talking to Dean in one of the booths before you went on your joyride. The sun filtered in through rickety blinds, illuminating Dean’s emerald eyes as they gazed at you in a way that would bore through your soul. You hadn’t known Dean for more than a week, but he was such an easy person to be around. He was witty, but sometimes had trouble coming up with comebacks when flustered, had an easy demeanour while also seemingly being kind of lost himself. He was like a walking contradiction, and it intrigued you to no end. He could look like a sharp-jawed, drop dead gorgeous heartbreaker, but in his grey Henley, he just looked soft and innocent. Handsome and sweet.

Though, you knew he was too good for you. What with his smooth words, caring personality and overall just being Dean. You were, if anyone find out where you came from, a personified chessboard. Your entire being was checkered with black and white.

“C’mon.” He stood up, looking to the jukebox on the other side of the room. “Let’s dance.”

“Let’s what, sorry?” Your eyebrows raised slightly as he jogged over to the jukebox, playing Tiny Dancer by Elton John and outstretching his hand for you. “Oh, no, I’m not a dancer.”

“C’mon, don’t leave me hangin’ here.” Dean’s outstretched hand beckoned you over almost like a siren’s call, and what with his boyish grin, the charming sparkle in his eyes and the overall feeling of being wanted got you up with him and taking his calloused hand in your own, skin tingling with the feel of the ring on his finger, his own feeling sparks upon the silver band on your hand pressing against his warm skin. He drew you close, his arm around your waist in a sort of non-pervy way, like he wasn’t trying to force himself on you.

“Warning. I might step on your toes.” You gave him a look which was playfully serious, but Dean just gave you a cocky grin. Damn that smile.

“Just follow me, sweetheart, and you’ll be fine.” He raised the other hand that was already interlocked with his, the low rumble of his voice putting you at ease as he swayed you both from side to side, moving in a circle with a look in his eyes that he couldn’t explain as he gazed down at you. “See? You’re a goddamn natural.”

“Maybe I have a good teacher.” You replied smoothly, which seemed to stroke his ego, as he shot you a wink and a click of his tongue.

“Damn right, you do.” Dean gave you a bashful chuckle, then bit his lip as he smiled, both of you continuing the slow spin in a circle while Elton’s mellow voice hazed the atmosphere. “I’m gonna spin you, ok?”

“Don’t drop me.” You quipped, and he shook his head with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’.” He spun you out and then in, his arms crossed over your front.

“Did you have special dance lessons?” You asked with a giggle, holding his hands, his fingers gently rubbing and playing with yours. “You’re really good at this.”

“Well, my friend Bobby taught me.” Dean sighed into your ear, a low chuckle falling past his lips. “He’s a grouchy ol’ bastard, but I had a prom date that I needed to impress. Sadly, I never got to go with her. I was… sick… on the night of prom.” You brushed off the brief hesitancy, instead enjoying this brief moment of calm. Dean could tell that your nerves were frazzled from the events of Wednesday night. That’s the great thing about Dean. He reads people easily, all for his insistence on having no emotional intelligence whatsoever. You assumed that this was a distraction method.

“Ellen’s always been one for dancing.” You mentioned, shrugging as you rocked from side to side. You saw Ellen as practically a second mom. She took you in, and Benny, when you needed it. But she was lonely, and you were pained to see her like that. “But she hasn’t in a while. Not since she lost her husband.”

“Huh.” Dean’s voice had an intrigued tone to it. Like he had an idea. “We should set ‘em up.”

“Ellen… and this Bobby of yours?”

“Yeah, they’re the same age, both lonely old souls - with all due respect - and they would get along.” He tilted your head with his index so you’d look at him and his charismatic smirk, just begging you to say yes. “Whaddya say we play matchmaker, sweetheart?”

You found yourself conceding quickly to this man’s goddamn charms. “Ok, fine. But if this goes south, you’re to blame.”

“Duly noted.” He laughed, nodding proudly and squeezing your hand. “That deserves another spin.” He spun you again, so then you were facing him. “Y’know, I’m kinda honoured. Pretty lady such as you, dancin’ with a grunt like me… gives a man all sorts of ideas.”

“Are you flirting with me, Dean?” You raised a playful eyebrow, again involuntarily finding yourself giggling like a lovesick schoolgirl at his smooth words.

“Maybe.”

“That’s rather bold.”

“I don’t see you complaining.” You both locked eyes for a moment, then burst out into laughter, his lower register mixing well with yours in the dim, naturally lit room.

You were happy with this man. Really happy, that you’d found a good friend. You found a good friend in Dean Winchester.

And he’d found a new home in you.

The purr of Baby’s engine.

The windows rolled down and blowing through your hair.

Guns ‘n’ Roses’ ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ playing on a cassette tape.

All of it had you hooked on an impossibly addictive high, hopped up on the euphoria of singing the lyrics at the top of your lungs with Dean in the driver’s seat, a grin that could only connote inner nostalgia on his face as you both belted out the words off by heart. The feeling of the wind on your face, the thrill of how fast Baby was speeding down the highway and the sensation of being unchained… it all got you above the altitude of a kite.

Far above.

Dean’s eyes were on you when he wasn’t looking at the road, admiring the way the light hit the curve of your face and illuminated your eyes. He took in your sweet voice, filling him like a warm hug. He’d not known you for long, but to him, you were home. Someone he could turn to.

He found himself hooked on that pretty smile. Your smooth words that contrasted your otherwise humble nature. How one second you could be the calming force and next you’re busting out your wild side like nobody’s business. You seemed so… sure… of who you were. So easy on a misguided soul like him.

After his baby brother went to Stanford, his father didn’t see much point of keeping him there. John was a drunk, and a notoriously violent one at that, and he’d prevented Dean from going to college so he could take care of Sam. But his Sammy was all grown up, and he didn’t need Dean anymore. That broke him in pieces, and made him desperate to find someone to pick them up because he’d lost them.

He turned to you with a wide grin, meeting your eyes as the final chorus blared on the radio. There was no place you two would rather have been right now than here, just letting loose and having fun. Neither of you were allowed to be kids. Sammy was Dean’s reminder, and the ring on your finger was yours.

Painful reminders, but they were both ones you couldn’t let go.

Then Dean switched the cassette tape once the final notes rolled out, Eye of the Tiger playing loud and proud on the speakers.

This was like trying to get Sammy to eat his proteins when he was a kid. Only harder.

“C’mon, Bobby, it’s just a date.” Dean reasoned, chuckling slightly at his surrogate father sat in Baby’s passenger seat and looking rather like a pug with the grumpy face he had on. “You’re gonna sit down, be yourself and everything’ll go smooth like butter.”

Bobby bristled, glaring daggers at Dean, lips pursed. “See, that’s easy to say when you’re not the one on this date, boy. She’s gonna be some classy broad who orders a pinot noir, or a Chateau Margaux or whatever-the-hell, and I’m gonna be stuck wonderin’ what the hell all these fancy names mean.”

“See, you don’t know until you try.”

“Don’t give me that chick flick crap, you idjit.”

“Look, all I’m saying is don’t get too hopped up on the idea of being perfect for Ellen.” Dean shrugged. “Be cool, yeah, and flatter her, give her some compliments and make her feel at home, but don’t go saying things like-”

“This sucks balls.” Bobby grumbled, not at all to Dean’s surprise.

“See? Don’t say that.” He saw Ellen in the rear view mirror, and clapped Bobby’s shoulder. “Ok, Bobby, you’re up. Knock her socks off for me, yeah?”

Bobby had no choice but to get out of the car, hoping that he didn’t look like a fool, or maybe his gelled back hair was neat and didn’t have a dreaded flyaway. That his collar wasn’t popped. That his jeans didn’t have some unexplained stain on them. He stepped to Ellen, who gave him a warm smile. “Balls.” He muttered under his breath. She really did look like a classy lady, which sent his embarrassment into overdrive.

“Hi, I’m Ellen.” She introduced, her voice smooth as honey and making Bobby even more nervous that yes, this woman was definitely far above his league.

“Bobby.” He replied stiffly, but then held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“Guess so.” They linked arms, striding towards the restaurant, where you and Dean had made a reservation. When the two were guided to their table, they were provided with a drinks menu. Ellen didn’t even take one minute scanning it, flicking through at the speed of light and announcing that she knew what she wanted. Bobby, however, was stumped. Wine? Pinot grigio? Champagne? But there were so many options for one champagne. Why couldn’t the damn drink options be more simple? Beer was definitely out of the question, though his mouth watered and taste buds craved for the Heineken embossed in gold on the menu.

But he knew that he wanted the medium rare steak, announcing that to Ellen, who replied that she’d be having sea bass fillets with specialised dressing and garnish which sounded rather fancy. It did nothing to soothe Bobby’s poor nerves. Ellen, meanwhile, was torn between remaining soft spoken with this man or being, y’know, herself. He seemed decent, and considerate, with the way he carefully looked over the drinks and food menus.

“Madam, sir, can I take your order?” A waiter with a flip notebook arrived beside them, and Bobby gestured for Ellen to speak, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“The sea bass fillet with the special dressing and garnish,” Ellen answered smoothly, her eyes flicking to Bobby to gauge his reaction to the next words, “and one Heineken.”

The choice of drink lifted Bobby’s spirits instantly, and that gave him the green light to not strive to impress the beautiful lady across from him. “And I’ll have the steak, medium rare. And as for the drink, I’ll have what the lady’s having.”

“Of course.” The waiter took the menus and left the table, inciting a moment for the two to laugh at their own anxiety.

“You thought I’d be one of those high-horse, classy women, didn’t you?” Ellen guessed, and Bobby nodded bashfully.

“Guilty. I haven’t done this in a long while.” He chuckled, warming up to Ellen quickly. “You’re a woman after my own heart. Always loved a good Heineken.”

“You and me both.”

After they’d had dinner, they exited the restaurant, but instead of parting ways, Bobby offered his arm once more to Ellen. “Mind walking for a while with this ol’ fool?”

“Not at all.”

NEXT UP:

“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”

Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.

Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.

Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.

“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”

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[lucygxybaird]

billy x reader - guardian angel billy

tw: intoxication, minor injuries, attempted roofie

You’re twenty, and drunk at a college party. 

It’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt so out of control, and it’s dizzying, freeing, a little terrifying. Your roommate tells you two things in quick succession: that she’s ready to go home, and she has to use the bathroom first. You only grasp the first part, and you stumble out onto the sidewalk, heading in the direction you believe your dorm to be (you’re wrong). 

A horn blares, splitting the night in two, as you teeter unsteadily across the street, Bambi walking across the ice while the hunter — in the form of a 2022 Toyota Corolla — barrels toward you. Just as the driver is about to swerve, you find yourself safely on the other side of the street, as suddenly and effortlessly as blinking. 

You don’t remember this later, but as you’re standing there, utterly befuddled, you hear a man’s voice in your ear. Low, warm, commanding but comforting. 

“You gotta be more careful, darlin’.” 

You catch a scent of whiskey, of campfire smoke, of something undefinable and yet undeniably male, and then it’s gone. 

It happens again that summer, when you’re hiking with your friends, and a loose rock turns your ankle when you’re a little too close to the edge of the path where it borders a ravine. You fall, but instead of tumbling head over heels down the steep embankment, you land on a pile of soft moss and fallen leaves. The air is forced out of your body in an audible oof, but still, you hear it.

“Watch where you’re goin’!”

You sit up, looking around as your friends scurry down toward you. The voice doesn’t belong to any of them — actually, it was a man’s voice, and this is a group of all girls. But none of them are acting like they heard anything. There’s no one else around on the trail, and even though you don’t see any evidence of campers, either, you’d swear you pick up the pleasant scent of woodsmoke. 

You don’t mention either of these things, and try to chalk it up to adrenaline. 

And then it’s your twenty-first birthday, and you’re out at a bar with your best friend and your roommate. They both go to the bathroom, and you don’t keep an eye on the drink the way you should; you’re watching them go, calling after them to see if they want you to order anything while they wait for the line to dwindle down.

There’s a guy on your left, so nondescript that even if you’d been paying attention, you don’t think you would have been able to give the police any details. A little paper envelope appears in his palm. He shakes it over your drink. 

As you turn back toward the bar, you go to reach for your drink. The guy next to you doesn’t touch you, barely even glances at you, but your hand stops as if someone — someone with a broader palm than you, a stronger grasp — stills your fingers. 

“Don’t do that,” a voice says in your ear. “S’not safe.”

You stare at your drink, looking over at the guy, then back at your drink. You flag down the bartender. “He put someth—”

Before you can finish, the guy tilts off his stool, less like he’s falling and more like someone has yanked him back by the collar. The bartender picks up your drink and pours it out, glowering at the guy sprawled on the floor. With a gesture, the bartender summons two security guards, who drag him out. 

“Prick,” the bartender mutters, and then he says to you: “Are you okay?”

You nod. 

You are okay. You just don’t fully understand how. 

When you’re home that night, inexplicably safe and sound, you close your eyes. You try to think of when you’ve heard that voice before — the hike comes back to you, and a very hazy memory of that college party. But there’s more, you realize. Little things. 

Times where you’d sworn you had looked everywhere for your keys, only to find them on the same table you’d scoured just a few minutes ago. 

Where you could smell that you’d burnt dinner, and you opened up the oven door, fire extinguisher at the ready, only to discover a perfectly good pizza or macaroni and cheese waiting for you.

Where you’d been certain you had bombed a job interview, even going so far as to cry about it out of sheer disappointment, only to get a call the next day. 

Where you’d missed a step going downstairs, gotten your heel caught in a crack in the sidewalk, or simply tripped over your own feet, and instead of stumbling — let alone falling — you’d just sail forward for a couple of steps until you regained your balance. 

You can’t remember the last time an avocado spoiled before you were ready to use it, for that matter. Or milk. 

Or — when was the last time you had a cavity? The last time you had to go to the doctor for anything more serious than a chest cold?

When your bus was late? When your flight was cancelled? 

The more you think of it, you can’t really remember the last time anything too awful really happened to you. 

“What,” you whisper out-loud, now staring up at the ceiling, “the fuck is going on here?”

You close your eyes again. 

You don’t think you’ve lain there like that long enough to fall asleep, but by the time you let out your next breath, you’re dreaming. 

You find yourself seated on the edge of a dock, your feet dangling in the cool, placid waters of a lake. It takes you a moment to recognize where you are, because you haven’t been here for years. But  you remember your great-grandpa had a cabin up in New York state, somewhere on the Adirondack lake. You’d only gone a few times when you were little, before Pop died, but you remember sitting on the dock behind his house just like this. 

“Lemonade, darlin’?” 

In your waking hours, you’d probably jump out of your skin, but in this idyllic vision, you just look over with a sort of pleasant surprise to find someone sitting next to you. It wouldn’t hurt even in reality — and it doesn’t now — that the guy sitting by your side is fine as hell. Curly brown hair frames an exquisitely sculpted face, high cheekbones and a full, sensual mouth set off by a strong jaw. Large, jewel-blue eyes frame a strong, straight nose that you have the strangest urge to kiss, right in the middle of the bridge. 

He’s offering you a sweating Mason jar of lemonade, which you take. He smiles at you as you take a sip. 

“It’s nice to see you when you’re not riskin’ your neck,” he says, another grin appearing on his face. 

When you stare at him blankly, it seems like he can’t suppress a chuckle, though he tries to turn it into a cough. “Sorry, darlin’, I should probably explain myself.” 

“I would appreciate it,” you say, your tone just this side of dry. With the amorphous, shifting logic of dreams, you have an idea of what this is about — considering what was on your mind right before you drifted off — but you want to hear him say it. (You try not to think about that one scene in Twilight. You feel like now is not the time to start laughing.) 

“Well,” he says, a grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth, “not to put too fine point on it, but I’m your guardian angel.”

You look at him for a moment. You take another sip of lemonade, just to have something to do, although it really is delicious — sweet with just right touch of tangy-sour. 

“Guardian angel,” you repeat. “Like…like Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life?”

This time, he allows himself a chuckle. “Somethin’ like that, I guess, yeah. Except we don’t have wings.”

You’re a little disappointed by this, you have to be honest. “Not at all?”

“Nope.” He smiles again. “Sorry.”

“Can you even fly?”

Now he laughs out-loud. “No, but we don’t need to. Wherever we’re needed, that’s where we are. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers.

“Oh.” You sip again as you consider this. “That’s cool, too.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he says, with an amused little uptick flickering at one corner of his mouth. “I would have had to file a report with my supervisor otherwise.”

It’s your turn to laugh, and as soon as you do, his face warms, as though basking in reflected light. He touches the back of your free hand with his fingertips. You turn your palm up, and he laces his fingers through yours.

“I’ve been takin’ care of you for years now,” he says. “An’ watchin’ over you.” He pauses, his eyes widening earnestly. “Nothin’ private, I promise. It’s not like that.”

You nod. Instinctively, you understand that, but you think it’s sweet of him to clarify. 

“The more I see of you, the more I wish…” He trails off, looking at your linked hands as though studying something very complex and very important. “I wish I could really be with you. More than just lookin’ out for you, although I always would do that. I mean…y’know. Like a guy with his girl.”

Can you blush in dreams? You don’t know if that’s strictly possible, but it feels like you are. 

“You saved me,” you murmur, also studying your two hands. “That night, at the party. The hike. The bar.”

You look up at him just as a scowl darkens his face. “That motherfucker s’lucky I couldn’t do more than yank him off his stool,” he says. “We’re just supposed to protect you and look out for you, not interfere with anybody else. But sometimes we can bend the rules a little.” 

Squeezing his hand gently, you remind him, “But you saved me.”

He smiles just a little. “Of course I did. There’s nobody in the world more important to me than you are.”

You have to wonder again about whether or not it’s possible to blush in your dreams. 

“Do you have a name?” you ask, because you have to say something to distract from the fact that your face feels like it’s on fire. 

He chuckles. “I used to,” he says. “It was Billy.”

“You used to?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, nodding. “I was human, once. A real long time ago. When I…” He clears his throat. “When I passed on, they asked me if I wanted to come back as a guardian angel. They said I earned it, cause I…” Another quiet cough. “I tried to fight for what was right.”

You have more questions, but he looks os sad, so solemn, that you can’t bring yourself to ask them. At least not right now. 

“So you’ve been doing this for a long time?”

He nods again, and then his expression softens as he smiles at you. “But you’re the first one I…”

When he trails off this time, he doesn’t finish his sentence. If it’s possible for you to blush in your dreams, you realize as you study his face now that it’s possible for him, too. 

“The first one you…?” you prompt, tugging on his hand a little like you can jostle the words free.

“They…well…” Another ahem. “They say you can…well, I got one opportunity to come back. Fully. To give up being an angel and be a man again. But it has to be for somethin’ really important.” He pauses, meeting your gaze so intensely that it feels like you are being laid bare, though you realize you don’t really mind how that feels.

Not with him, anyway. 

“For somethin’ really important,” he says again, and he’s still looking right into your eyes. “Or someone.”

You are definitely blushing now. 

“I could come down and see you,” Billy goes on. “Really see you. Be with you. They let us have a little time, a month or so. To make sure.”

You swallow. “You would do that for me?”

He touches your chin with his fingertips, keeping your face still. “Honey, I would do anything for you. As long as you’d want me to.”

You can’t imagine waking up and having him reduced to a breeze in your life, a presence felt but unseen, his voice dulled to a whisper in your ear. You can’t imagine never seeing these deep blue eyes again, these angel features, never feeling this touch that is so gentle despite the calluses you can feel on his fingers. 

“I’d want you to,” you murmur, and he smiles at you. 

Billy leans forward, slowly, carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too quickly. His lips brush against yours, feather-light. Your lips part underneath his— 

When you wake up that morning, sunshine is already streaming in through the window, pooling warmth on your pillow. You feel more deeply rested than you can remember being in a while, and you actually stretch your arms above your head blissfully like you’re a Disney princess ready to have her hair done by little twittering birds. For a moment, you’re so comfortable that you consider just going back to sleep, but then you’re hit by a craving for the fresh apple streusel muffins from the cafe down the street from your apartment.

It’s a little locally owned place, the front windows a riot of color thanks to flower boxes and bright curtains, some cast-iron tables set out front that offer a great view of the cozy street. The baked goods and the coffee are both phenomenal, but more importantly, the owner lets her cat wander around like he actually owns the place. His name, for reasons that have never fully been made clear to you, is Purrdon Ramsay.

So you shower and dress, taking an extra moment to spray perfume at your wrists, the hollow of your throat, and then, after a pause, behind your knees. You’ve never actually done that before, but you’ve seen it on TV. You feel like it’s worthwhile to smell a little sweeter today. 

Usually, you walk down to the cafe because it’s less than ten minutes away, but this morning, your feet eat up the distance in no time, like you have an extra pep in your step. 

As soon as you pull the door open, your eyes fall on a table just by the door, tucked in the corner near the window. Purrdon Ramsay sits in the lap of a lean, blue-eyed young man with a mop of brown curls and long legs that spill into the aisle. The cat is purring so loudly that you can hear it from where you stand.

The young man smiles at you. There are already two coffee mugs in front of him, and you feel a pang of deep disappointment until he catches your eye and nudges one of them forward. You step toward him and catch a whiff of cinnamon. Somehow you know it’s your favorite order. 

“Coffee, darlin’?” he says, and just like that, your dream comes rushing back to you. 

“Billy?” you whisper. 

He smiles again. You cross the room and sit down like you’re being pulled by an invisible string. As soon as you’re in the chair, Billy reaches across the table and takes your hand. “You said you wanted me to,” he reminds you softly, almost shyly, like he’s afraid you’ve changed your mind now that you’re awake.

“I do,” you tell him.

The two of you stay hand-in-hand at that cafe table, Purrdon nestled happily in Billy’s lap, for hours. He tells you about his life, both before and after, all the people he’s helped. You tell him about your life, too, although you have to admit you don’t have any story as interesting as breaking out of jail. Never once does he let go of your hand. 

All in all, it’s one hell of a first date. 

[archesa]

So... @celestialalpacaron 's Overlord Husk AU has lived rent free in my head for a week, and I woke up with a fucken flu and chose violence wrote something! Enjoy!

Spiked cosmopolitan

[tw : implied past rape/non-con, past substance abuse, attempted rape/non con, canon-typical violence, we're dealing with Angel Dust's trauma so... Valentino is its own warning, really...]

He could tell when his drink was spiked. The distinct and nauseatingly familiar taste of pheromones ruining what would otherwise be a perfectly good cosmopolitan.

It was part of his job to entertain the guests of the casino, to play the flirt or the lucky-charm and keep the gamblers at the table as long as their wallets allowed – sometimes longer, but that was on them. And a stray hand or a lewd remark was nothing out of the ordinary, but the dizziness invading him - choking him almost - after he downed his glass was new.

How much of a dose did that fucker spill in his drink? Or had the month he'd been working for Husk – and being mostly clean – ruined his resistance?

He caught a glimpse of the bartender reaching for a phone when he reeled and knocked over his glass, the expensive crystal shattering on the mahogany floor, but the shark – figurative and literal – he'd been baiting all night caught his arm and guided him away, to a more secluded area of the club.

"Weren't much of a lucky charm tonight, were you, whorebug. But perhaps you can still turn it around and get me a win."

"Get off me, fucka!", Angel warned, another pair of arms sprouting off him to push the asshole away.

"Playing fucking hard to get, now?"

Fog invaded his vision, red smoke and suffocating memories, as the guise of playful roughness slid and the fish faced bastard slammed him in the nearest wall. He fumbled to unsheathe the 'chastity dagger' he had been almost jokingly gifted on his first week on the job from his thigh but the 'no weapons behind this door' rule seemed to have slipped the bastard's mind and Angel froze, another wave of hardly repressed memories drowning him at the sight of the rhinestones set butt of a gun in the shark's breast pocket and cold steel suddenly pressed under his chin burned his last figment of resistance.

It should be easy, really.

Dissociate.

Disappear.

Drown as the delusion of freedom is stripped away from you.

The contact of the canon vanished and he barely heard the gunshot, splinters and wood dust raining on him, the scent of brimstone and powder overwhelming for a mere second as he slid to the floor, his aggressor turning away from him just long enough for the cane that had plummeted on his arm and broken his grasp to shatter his skull.

Feathers and fur invaded his vision. Blood and shadows. And the sound of bones breaking, repeatedly, as the shark had the guts – guts soon spilled on the floor – to turn his weapon on Husk.

A hand. An arm. A ribcage. A jaw.

Each hit of his ornamented cane was followed by a blood curling scream. Until finally, the shark went limp.

"Drag that pile o' shit in the alley and finish him.", the Overlord ordered, two hell-hounds in elegant tux executing his command right away.

The world faded, darkness chasing the red mist and the stench of fish and roofies with a strong scent of age-old bourbon and cologne.

'If anyone treats you like an ass, I'll have 'em shot.'

[rukkiya]

Hii this is a strange request so feel free to ignor if you are uncomfy! I was wondering if you could write an angst to comfort (modern au?) where fem!reader gets roofied at a party and kaeya (or albedo) helps keep her safe and stuff? They can already be at the party or come and pick her up! I love your angst! Stay safe(`3´)

why did you go

꒰ა(kayea x fem!reader - modern/college au)໒꒱

tw: mention of getting drugged , reader gets roofied

The sound of people talking and music blasting was vibrating through the house.

Kaeya wasn’t paying attention to anyone around him. The noise around him all blurred into one sound of nothing. He sat at the far corner of the living room looking at someone, the only reason why he was at this party to begin with.

He was looking at you, though if asked he’d just say he’s keeping an eye on you.

Kaeya knows you better than anyone. Knows how gullible and trusting you are despite so many people doing you wrong.

He would be next to you, he’d much rather be in all honesty. He feels like a stranger keeping his distance the way he is but it’s his fault it’s like this.

Kaeya feels like an idiot this all could have been avoided if he wasn't acting like such a prick earlier. You were telling him about the party and how your friend invited you and he got mad.

“You? Going to a party? Are you feeling ok?” he asks, reaching his hand from across the table placing it on your forehead.

“Just fine, but what's that supposed to mean? I go out sometimes. Not often but still.” you look at him, brows drawing together a bit as you softly move his hand from your forehead.

“Who invited you anyways?” he asks, ignoring your previous question. He feels something in the pit of his chest. He feels agitated.

“A friend from class, they're going to meet up with some other people they know there too, they said they wanted me to meet them.” You reply, looking down at your hands contemplating it all, going out stresses you out way too much. But you’d feel bad if you told your friend no.

Kaeya feels his chest sting a bit. “You have me, invite me with you” he thinks.

He's not one to get jealous, he knows he has no right. You're your own person but the sole thought of you finding someone else, someone better scares him. He doesn't want you to leave him.

“You trust them to not leave you?” he asks before he can think of what he's saying. You've had bad experiences with people you thought were friends. He's just worried, and you trust people too easily.

“They're not like tha-”

“Yeah those people you thought you could trust last time weren't like that either huh?” he spits out making you look up at him confused now.

“What's wrong? Did I say something to upset you?” you ask him, brows drawing together making his eye narrow.

He himself doesn't know why he's so bothered.

“No.” he simply says, looking away.

The look on your face made him all the more confused. Or maybe he's not confused, maybe he's pushing something back. Maybe he’s scared to come to terms with said realization.

“You seem upset kaey-”

“Never mind it's nothing, go ahead and go to the party. But if they do leave you, if you end up alone there I don’t want to hear it, I warned you.” He sighs, standing up and grabbing his cup.

“I’ll see you later.” He doesn’t even look at you, he just walks away and leaves you confused and worried. He is your closest friend and the sole thought of losing him or making him upset scares you.

Though you were at a party you were stuck in your own head too, you’re worried that Kaeyas still upset but you can’t figure out why he got mad to the point where he just left.

“Y/n, you want a drink?” Your friend asks snapping you out of your thoughts. Kaeya hears your friend call your name, seeing her get up from sitting next to you on the couch, turning to you waiting for your answer.

“Uhhh, no thanks I don’t drink-“

“Come on we’re at a party! I’m serving you the drink. I brought you here to have a good time!” She laughs making you go quiet knowing what she’s saying is true, but you don’t like to drink either.

“She’s not going to say no.” Kaeya thinks, knowing you all too well. It’s something you struggle with. You’ve told him that you feel rude or mean when you say it but in situations like this drives him crazy.

“Look I’ll bring an extra drink and if you want it you can have it ok? I won’t force you.” Your friend explains and you nod, feeling better with that option.

You feel out of place. Parties were never your thing, being around so many people wasn’t either but you didn’t want your friend to come here all by herself. Knowing how things are now days you know you’d be feeling horrible and worried for her if you had declined.

Kaeya sees you all alone now and has to stop his legs from moving any closer, you’re probably upset at him.

You were just trying your best to socialize better and he acted out in a way he shouldn’t have, hell he’d be mad at him too for acting like that.

His eyes scan the rest of the living room and he spots two guys at the drink section pointing at someone while mixing drinks together.

Kaeya’s eyes follow their line of sight and his eyes land back on you.

He looks back at them and sees one of them walking towards you, two cups in his hand.

Kaeya narrows his eye at the guy, moving closer just a tad bit.

Before the guy can make it to you your friend comes back holding two drinks.

“Ok, I mixed this one with more juice than alcohol so it shouldn’t be too bad. It’s there if you want it!” She smiles, placing the two cups down in front of you, sitting back down next you. You look in the red cup and see what looks like fruit punch to be inside, not that nasty brown beer color.

Kaeya stops and sighs, relief washing over him when he sees you with someone you know at least.

“Hey sweet thing, is this seat taken?” You hear a guy slur next to you.

Before you can even turn to answer you feel the couch dip beside you.

You feel yourself get pulled to the right seeing your friend suspiciously eye the guy as she loops her arm around yours, bringing you closer to her.

“You ladies have drinks?” He asks, leaning a bit close to you, he eyes both the cups your friend brought on the table. Placing two light pink cups in front of him.

“Yes we do.” Your friend quickly answers.

You can smell the sickly sweet scent of alcohol coming from the guy beside you and you have to stop your face from scrunching up in distaste.

Kaeya sees the guy sit a bit too close to you and feels his legs move cloer again. He knows you can take care of yourself, he knows he has no right to be this protective but when it comes to you he can’t help it. When he sees someone too close or making you uncomfortable he has to hold himself back from stepping in.

He’s closer but still far enough to be out of your line of sight. He doesn’t think he can stay hidden any longer though. Even if you’re still mad at him you can scream at him later. If the prick next to you gets any close he won’t just stand and look.

“You’re here too huh?” Kaeya hears a familiar voice come from beside him making him turn away from you.

“Albedo? You finished your group project? Kaeya asks in suprise, not expecting to see Albedo of all people here.

“Almost, I’m here to pick up some of the materials from a classmate who is here, I’m on my way out right now.” Albedo explains, fixing his backpack on his shoulders.

The blondes reason makes Kaeya laugh, it makes more sense now. Kaeya doesn’t think he’s ever seen Albedo outside of lab or the library.

You feel the couch beside you shift but before you can turn around you see a familiar guy standing next to your friend.

“Babe there you are!” You hear the guy behind your friend call out to her making you her turn his way.

“Took you long enough, we were waiting forever.” Your friend rolls her eyes as her boyfriend kisses her head.

“Already so sassy? I just got here.” He laughs making her roll her eyes.

The random guy beside you looks around, making sure no one was looking his way. He glances to his side to make sure you or your friends don’t see him move one of the cups he brought with him closer to you. In a swift motion he replaces the red cup your friend brought for you with a lighter pink cup that he brought for you earlier.

He looks around one more time making sure no one saw before standing up and walking away.

“You guys got drinks? Where are they at?” Your friends boyfriend looks at the two cups on the table in front of your guys.

“By the kitchen.” Your friend answers and he reaches for her hand.

“Come with me to get some.” He pulls her but she playfully slaps his hand.

“No I don’t want to leave y/n.” She says pulling you closer and you smile at her, squeezing her arm.

“Hey it’s ok! Look the guy left anyways, it’s only going to be for a few minutes I can save the couch for us so no one else will take it.” You laugh and she looks around before looking back at you.

“Are you sure? If that guy comes back leave and look for me ok?” She tells you, serious look on her face.

You nod your head and hold your pinky out.

“I promise.”

She looks at your pinky then at you, a smile making its way in her lips and she laughs “ok you promised.”

“I’ll be right back.” She stands up looking back at you and you nod.

You glance at both the cups she brought, looking in hers to see hers was a yellow color liquid, probably mango or pineapple juice was mixed with hers.

You don’t like drinking, the smell of alcohol makes you feel sick so the taste is far worse but you wanted to just try hers. The bright colors of both your drinks looked interesting.

You bring her cup up to your nose and smell pineapple. You bring the cup to your lips and take a small sip immediately scrunching your face at the burn on your tongue.

“How in the world is that even safe to drink?” You think to yourself immediately putting her cup back down.

You reach for your cup that she brought you and bring it up to your mouth, hoping it doesn’t taste half as strong as hers.

The smell of something sweet was coming from the cup. You tilt the cup back a bit, tasting a mix of cherry and punch, little to no alcohol can be tasted from the cup besides a small aftertaste of something bitter.

You take a bigger sip, wanting to get the taste of alcohol from your fiends drink out of your mouth.

It actually tasted good though, despite it having some alcohol in there. You take one more drink and put the cup down, not wanting to drink it all. You don’t drink alcohol so you don’t know the effect it’ll have on you.

“So that’s the big project you’ve been working on, no wonder I haven’t seen you around outside lately.” Kaeya puts his fingers on his chin making Albedo roll his eyes at Kaeya’s antics.

“I go out. I’m out right now.” Albedo states making Kaeya laugh a bit louder.

“For said project.” Kaeya points at albedos bag making Albedo sigh. Kaeya’s back was facing you, he didn’t notice the prick sitting next to you switch your cups. He didn’t see you take a drink from the cup that was switched.

You scroll though your phone as your wait for your friend to come back. You stop scrolling when you hear the music around you quiet down, looking around to see if anyone else notices how quiet it’s gone but when your head lifts up you get dizzy. Dizzy to the point where you have to steady yourself even though you were sitting.

“Y/n, sorry we took a bit longer he made me wait for him to get food-“

Your friend stops talking when she sees your head sway, noticing how you didn’t look at her though she called out to you.

“Y/n?” She calls out more serious this time, her boyfriend stopped talking behind her.

You hear your name being called from afar but your head feels too heavy to lift it up. You try to stand but your legs feel too weak.

“Did she drink too much maybe?” Your friends boyfriend asks and she snaps her head at him glaring.

“She never drinks, she doesn’t like alcohol.” She states, the panicked look on her facing making his smile drop, she’s serious.

You feel a chill go down your spine and wrap your arms around your torso.

“‘ts so c-cold.” You slur.

Your friend kneels next to you grabbing your hand feeling how hot it was to the touch.

“Oh my gosh y/n! Y/n hey look at me what did you drink?!” Your friend asks feeling panic rising in her chest.

“Y/n look at me!” She repeats louder getting anxious.

Kaeya hears your name being called out behind him and stops talking. Waiting to hear it again, to make sure it’s not his head playing tricks on him.

“Y/n what did you drink?” She repeats making Kaeya turn around slowly. Registering the words he’s hearing right now.

“What happened?” Kaeya hears someone whisper beside him, everyone around you guys was staring now.

“She’s out of it, but it doesn’t look like shes drunk to me, she looks sick.” Another person whispers.

“Here hold my hand and stand up, you probably need some water.” She grabs your hand and pulls you up.

You stand on both feet shakily and feel a wave of nausea wash over you.

Kaeya doesn’t even think, his legs move before he can register a single thought.

“Y/n? Hey I need you to look at me.” He’s by your side in a second. Your friend moving back a bit recognizing who Kaeya was.

You hear Kaeyas voice but can’t see him properly your vision is beyond blurred.

You take a step forward towards his voice but feel your knees buckle but never feel your body hit the ground below you.

Kaeya picks you up in his arms when he sees you stumble, feeling his heart sink.

What did you do? He thinks.

Kaeya gently sits you back on the couch and you mumble something he can’t quite make out.

“Y/n hon, can you look at me please?” He says calmly though his heart was beating out of his chest.

You look up at him and he notices how your eyes look hazy. He’s been keeping an eye on you all night, you haven’t drank anything.

Then he remembers the cups on the table.

He turns to the two cups and looks at your friend.

“What alcohol did you get her?” He asks bringing both cups up inspecting them.

He notices how your friends face goes still as she reaches for her cup in his hands.

“I didn’t put much in hers but that’s not…. that isn’t the cup I brought her…….. this cup is mine but that one you’re holding it’s not hers, I got her a red cup like mine too….” She points at the other cup in Kaeya’s hands. “I didn’t serve her drink in that cup it’s a different shade.” She whispers feeling her stomach drop.

Kaeya feels his whole body grow cold. He takes his eye off you for a second. One second and this happens? This happens to you? To you of all people? Some targeted you?

“Y/n did you drink out of these cups?” Kaeya asks.

You can vaguely see the cup Kaeya brings up to you and you nod. You can hear him but it’s much slower when it reaches your ears.

He reaches for your hand and puts his fingers on your wrist to check your pulse, eye closing when he feels how fast he felt it going. Not only that but the temperature of your body was extremely hot, you were overheating.

Kaeya gently lifts you into his arms and you groan feeling dizzy from any movement.

“Albedo.” Kaeya turns to the blonde making him step forward.

“Do me a favor and call an ambulance, I need to cool her off and get her to drink water for the time being.” Kaeya’s face looks unrecognizable to the people standing around. He looked scary.

Albedo doesn’t waste a second, having never seen Kaeya with such a serious expression, it made him realize the weight of the situation. He pulls his phone out and dials the number immediately.

Kaeya turns to the kitchen, your friend following close behind.

“I left her for a few minutes, her cup is still full she can’t be drunk.” Your friend explains feeling her eyes start to burn at your state, you couldn’t even keep your eyes open.

Kaeya feels his jaw clench uncomfortably but he has no right to be mad at her when he looked away from you for a second too. When he could’ve avoided this and just asked to come with you instead of being an ass about it.

“We need to get her out of her jacket and get her to drink water now.” Kaeya pushes the kitchen door open with his foot, pushing all the bottles off the table and setting you on it gently.

“Y/n, hon it’s me.” Kaeya calls out to you.

He sees you open your eyes and hears you groan uncomfortably feeling anger and guilt rise in him even more.

You can’t tell if you’re dreaming or not, everything feels weird. You’re not sure if Kaeya is actually here but you still want him near you, to apologize for earlier.

“-aeya k-aeya i-m ‘orry.” you slur, pulling your jacket closer to your body.

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from losing it. Hearing you apologize made him shake his head. Were you apologizing to me? He thinks as he moves his hands toward your jacket.

“Listen y/n, I’m going to take your jacket off ok? It’s me doing it, not anyone else but I need to do this, you’re overheating too much ok?” He asks and you nod your head giving him some signal.

He unzips your jacket and you immediately feel a shiver go down your spine.

You lean foward, closer to him when he slips both your arms out of the jacket.

“Get some water, please she needs it.” Kaeya glances at your friend who immediately does so.

You feel you body shaking, trembling. It was far too cold .

“aeya i-ts co-cold.” You feel your teeth chatter.

He sees you tremble and feels horrible. Bringing your body close to his to give you some warmth.His hands run up and down your arms and he can feel the goosebumps.

“I know I’m sorry but I can’t have you overheating.” He whispers, moving your hair from your face.

Your friend hands him a cup of water and he steadies you.

“Y/n can you drink some water for me?” He asks and you shiver even more.

“I d-ont ‘eel goo-d.” You try lift your head even though it felt painful, opening your eyes as you feel them burn a bit.

“I know I-…..” kaeya looks down feeling his throat swell. “I’m sorry I know you don’t but this’ll help ok? I promise.” Kaeya shakes his head, seeing your eyes travel from looking at him to the cup of water.

He brings the cup up to your lips, other hand holding the back of your head as you take small sips. He doesn’t stop until about half of the water is gone.

It’s not enough to get whatever you have in your system out but it’ll do for now.

Your limbs feel heavy but despite that you lift your arms up, reaching out for Kaeya.

Kaeya’s hands immediately find yours, interlocking his fingers with your now cold ones.

“P-lease do-t leav.” You slur, you felt sleepy, dizzy but worst of all paranoid.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Kaeya says seriously, giving your hand a firm squeeze.

Kaeya can hear the faint sound of sirens nearing and moves you, but you don’t react. His fingers move to your wrist and he can feel the steady pulse of your heart beating. You’re ok, your body is just drained. Kaeya swears to himself, he’ll make the bastard who did this to you pay.

He gently gathers you in his hold again and walks out to the now quiet party. Eyeing everyone around to see if he sees someone in particular. He remembers. The cup looked familiar. The cup you drank out of was placed next to you not by your friend, but by someone else. Someone he had a bad feeling about earlier. But he doesn’t see the face of the scumbag who did this.

Right now though he can’t be bothered with that punk. Right now you were his priority.

He takes you out the house and is met with paramedics with a stretcher. He’s hesitant to let you go but he lets the paramedics take your vitals.

They immediately get you into the ambulance and Kaeya goes in with you, holding your hand the whole time.

Kaeya explains to the paramedics what when down since you’re not able to at the moment squeezing your hand every now and then when he recalls what when down. They tell him your vitals are going back to normal, it’s nothing life threatening but they confirm what he feared what happened. You were drugged.

You can veagule hear what’s being said, the affects were still heavy hitting but you felt scared. You don’t want to be alone.

Kaeya feels the slight tremble of your hands and looks down to you seeing tears stream down your face. He can only gently wipe them. The state you’re in is tearing him to shreds. He feels his own eyes burn.

“I’m here y/n I’m not leaving you again. I won’t leave you, you’re safe with me.” Kaeya assures you as he gently lays his head on your shoulder

“You have to promise to not leave me either though ok? Anywhere you go ask me to go with you and I will.” He whispers, not really expecting a response. But he’s a selfish man, he knows it too. He doesn’t want you with anyone but him.

He’ll keep his promise, keep you closer than ever because he can’t stand the thought of you being in danger or unsafe or worse being without you again. He still owes you an apology, he knows because he’s come to terms with it now. It makes sense to him why he was so bothered with you not going with him, he can’t stand being without you. So from here on out he won’t leave your side. As for the guy who did this to you? Kaeya will find him and make him pay, but for now as long as you’re safe with him and him only, it’s more than he can ask for.

_________________

authors note: HELLO MY LOVELIES!!!! it’s been forever since I last posted apologies t^t I’ve missed you all dearly <3 life has been busy but I had to write and post something for Christmas for yall :3 to the anon who sent this req thank you <33 this has been sitting waiting for me to write for a while as the topic is very serious and scary I wanted to approach it correctly. I’m sorry it’s an angst price as my holiday gift to y’all but would it be a rukiya piece if it wasn’t? LOL I do hope yall enjoy and that you’re taking care and spending the holidays with your loved ones and if you don’t celebrate I hope you’re doing great and taking care still!!much love to you all I’ll be back and active soon happy holidays!! ^~^<3 (ASLO! apologies for any errors this wasn’t revised!)

[orchidshow]

Credit | @grungenglam for the divider its sososososo pretty aa pls check out his work!

A/N | the chapter title is purely for clicks this term makes me cringe so hard i can only use it ironically. also my led lights fell off my walls halfway through this so it was written in the dark so woopsies if i misspell

Frat boy! Hasan x Trad goth! reader

TW | dr*g use (w**d and talk of r**fies), alcohol use

Chapter one: Goth Mommy

The house was fucking disgusting.

From the outside, she stood there nervously with her friend Amy, debating about how much shit she would be given by her if she had bitten the bullet and just gone home. On the field in front of the house, they both saw a pledge vomit before passing out face first in said vomit. She takes in a breath of the chilled autumn air before plunging into the house, holding Amy's hand tightly.

It reeked of cheap beer, but the type you pay a guy extra at the gas station to buy you when you're underage and can't not afford the upsell. The bass pumped through the stained carpet, which caused her to halt at her feet every couple of steps due to its stickiness. An arid stench of weed filled the room as she clung to the drywall in the living room.

" C'mon! Didn't your therapist say you should try new things?" Amy remarked while handing her a red Solo cup. It was almost too cliché to bear.

"I think she meant going swimming or something—not gambling on my chances of getting roofied by a guy in a snapback." She retorted sarcastically, placing the mysterious beverage onto the table beside her.

"Anyways, this was fun, but I kind of want to go home." She states before looking up and noticing Amy is being held up against a wall in the kitchen, deeply engrossed in a makeout session with a guy who looked like he had been born with a football helmet on. A small part of her ached to go back outside and enjoy refuge from the insanity, but she could already imagine the sadness and passive aggressiveness she'd receive the next day from Amy lamenting about how she'should've at least tried'.

While debating her options, that's when she noticed him. She had definitely seen him at other parties, often telling a crazy story while being shitfaced or jumping off balconies into pools. He was obnoxious, craving to be the centre of everyone's attention—and he was, and he knew it. However, tonight he exhibits a new talent—Keg stands. She watches his shirt fall due to gravity as he chugs down beer from the metal jug. For a second, she considers him cute, his happy trail exposed for everyone to see while droplets of beer rush down his body. She had never felt more jealous of cheap beer until now.

His eyes catch hers as he ends the stand; he watches her from across the room with a half-smirk. Fearing he will make his way over, she immediately runs over to the kitchen in an attempt to 'find Amy'. While in the kitchen, she opens the fridge. Scanning it for any drinks that have a sealed lid and looked fit for human consumption, which was pointless as it led to her chewing on a cup of ice instead. 

"Goth mommy vibes. I can get with that." The guy says to her with a cocky smile. "I'm Hasan, what's your n-" Hasan can't finish his introduction as a fistful of ice is thrown at him by her as she storms off in an attempt to go find Amy and get out of this nightmare. She finds herself upstairs, standing outside a door with a questionably stained sock hung against the door.

Upset and a little embarrassed, she retreats to the patio of the frat, waiting for Amy to be done with her hookup so she can leave.

"Are you waiting for your friend?" She hears behind her, not bothering to turn around as she already knows who it is. She lets out a soft but annoyed "mhm."

"I can drive you where you need to go if you want," he suggests shyly. She turns around, squinting at him, almost as if he were stupid.

"I just saw you do a kegstand like thirty minutes ago; what makes you think I'd get in a car with you?" she hisses out.

"Do you have any other way of getting home?" He retorts annoyingly.

"...No," she sighs out, taking his hand as he leads her to his car.

The car is surprisingly clean; other than the sweat of the gym clothes, it's almost nice. On the way home, they share a blunt between them, even though he claims ‘he does not partake’. 

“By the way." He starts flicking between her and the road. “I’m sorry about the whole ‘Goth Mommy’ thing; I thought it was funny; I do actually think the way you dress is sick though,” he rambles, avoiding eye contact after the compliment. 

“Really?” She squeezes out through a sharp intake. She's answered by his nod. She grabs the aux cord from the front of the car, plugging it into her phone before playing music. 

“You don't mind, right? I hate silence,” she asks while looking into his deep brown eyes.

He smiles. His pupils dilated. “No, no, I like it. Keep playing your music!” He enthuses excitedly, weed obviously settling into his system.

They reach the parking lot of her apartment. Neither talks about her leaving. Time passes quickly as they talk to each other about their majors, his life back in Turkey, and her music.

“Is Ankara pretty?” She questions, mind-hazed, as she maintains eye contact with Hasan; he giggles before shaking his head.

“Fuck no. It's just buildings on top of buildings,” he describes before his hand moves to the top of her knee. “I can tell you what’s pretty though.” He mumbles, fingers tracing the delicate black lacing of her tights. 

Not understanding if it was the weed or the night or how irresistible he was in this moment, she leans in, kissing him gently. His hand skirts to her waist before squeezing it gently. Impulsively, she moves back, shocked at what she had done. She muttered something about Indica before slamming the car door in front of Hasan's’ face, essentially sprinting into the apartment building in sheer embarrassment.

end of chapter one tehe :)