Trap House Imagines

Blood - Colby Brock

I am NOT taking requests on Wattpad, if you want to have a request done, you'll have to go to my Tumblr; Quinn-Imagines. This is just so I keep my priorities straight.

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Summary; Reader goes to an abandoned place with the guys, and they leave her behind. Reader then faints at the sight of her own blood.

Warnings; Swearing, mention of blood

Word Count; 705 words

Pronouns; she/her

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"Hey, bitch baby," You call out, wandering around the corner of the room.

Naturally, because they find it fucking hilarious, they left you behind. While you were trying to get in through the window, all four of the guys ran off. Not even Corey stayed behind to help you.

There's a slam behind you, which makes you turn in the direction, and your mind flickers to the pocket knife that you brought. But it wasn't supposed to be here because of potential enemies, it's here just in case you needed to use it to cut something.

Anyway, the room you came from was the entrance. So, someone is behind you, and that thought is so welcoming on its own.

"Not funny, guys!" Your voice is wavering now.

You really don't like the dark. And the only thing you have for light right now is your phone flashlight. We all know how much that sucks ass. 

So, dark room, shitty flashlight, and a bunch of asshole roommates that ran off. Not to mention the loud ass slam a second ago, and you really don't want to use the knife in your pocket.

Continuing out of the room again, you take my steps carefully. You really don't want tetanus, that'd be the worst thing ever. Especially since the sight of a needle makes you want to faint.

Oh shit, your number one for fainting, that never fails, is blood. Mainly if it's yours, and if it's a lot of it gushing out at once.

A shiver goes through you just by the thought of it.

"Colby? Come on— You know I don't like this," You call out.

Suddenly, your foot lands on something slippery, and you fall on your ass in a second. There's a crunch when you fall, and that's when you realize it stepped on glass.

The next thing you realize is your hand is in immense pain, which prompts you to look at it. And it's the worst fucking sight imaginable.

Blood, and guess what? It's gushing down your fucking palm.

"Oh dear lord —" You mutter, and then the next thing you see, is darkness.

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However, when you wake up, that's the most interesting experience you've ever had.

On one hand, you're getting a lot of... not yelling, but whisper-shouting. Or maybe they're just talking at their normal voice levels, you literally cannot tell.

Someone's crying, like sobbing. No clue why, all you did was fucking slip and fall, life goes on. You're still alive.

But you're also getting carried by someone that is not Colby. Which prompts you to wonder why your own boyfriend isn't carrying you. And instead, you're in some sort of giant's arms.

"Why the fuck are you guys being so loud? We're going to get caught," you groan, opening your eyes slightly.

There's a gasp, and for a second the crying sound comes to a hasty stop.

When your eyes are opened fully— which isn't very much because four fucking flashlights are getting shined into your eyes at once —you look around.

Turns out, Corey is holding you to his chest tightly. Bride-style, because how else is he gonna have you? Over his shoulder? You think the fuck not.

Elton has his camera on you, Sam's mouth is agape, and...

"Oh, Colby, baby. Why are You crying?" You ask, your eyebrows drawing together.

"She's awake..." Corey announces.

"Yeah, no shit," Elton chides, but Colby pushes past them and goes towards you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says, taking your face in his hands, "It was a joke."

"Colby, all I did was slip and fall," You chuckle slightly, going to place your own hand on his face, but stop when you see the blood, "Oh dear god, I'm going to faint again,"

You place your hand down, squeezing your eyes shut tightly, "Fuck, why-why-why."

"Here, hand her over," Colby says, and there's shifting, and your body goes downwards, "You're okay, though?"

"Yes, I'm fine," You say, "I slipped on glass, then tried to catch myself with one hand. And then I placed my hand on the glass like a dumbass.... the back of my head isn't bleeding, right?"

Looking at him, he shakes his head, "Nothing,"

"Good,"