#girls please don’t change yourself dramatically because a guy doesn’t appreciate who you are

[demi-queen]

A Venn Diagram with Heathers in one circle, Legally Blonde in the other and Mean Girls in the middle

[unwrittenlibrary]

i don’t wanna do this (i don’t wanna lose this)

eighteen plus blog minors dni

summary -> it’s all fake, every piece of it scripted and perfected for the camera, even the upcoming break-up you pretend doesn’t break your heart.

words -> 2.5k

warnings -> fake relationship, use of name (bucky calls the reader by her character’s name, lucia, once) nickname uses (baby, sweetheart) co-workers/friends to lovers, no smut, not beta’d

notes -> this is for the lovely maera’s ( @ambrosiase ) hotel indigo writing challenge i absolutely love this idea mae and am so appreciative that you created this challenge, it really pushed me out of my comfort zone and i got to explore an entirely new au.  

room & service -> business meets pleasure with celebrity bucky barnes -> bucky and reader are co-stars in a fake relationship in a hotel for their final comic-con together.

— ➶ —

Bucky has been doing interviews with Sam all day today. 

You’ve been working together for six seasons and have both been to too many comic-cons to count. Every single one of them you and Bucky had been paired up to do interviews and photo-ops together. 

A scripted piece of a scripted relationship. Agreed upon when your characters romance began to pick up popularity and designed to look perfect until the end.

Tomorrow an article with be released ‘leaking’ the details of your perfect break-up too. A source close to the both of you will comment that wrapping of the show and being forced to go long distance just wasn’t working for you two. The writer will supply photos of today, the two of you avoiding sitting near one another and not speaking. They’ll write that their source confirmed this convention is actually the first time you’ve seen each other in months. 

Even more articles have already been planted periodically questioning whether the two of you were still together, generating buzz around the show and what happens between your characters. It’s a brilliant job, honestly.

Except, you and Bucky had been in a fake relationship for so long, it had begun to feel real. This distance between you two felt purposeful in a way that hurt you more than it ever should have. 

Your assistant is supposed to go through your instagram soon and begin archiving posts and pieces of your fake life with Bucky. He’s been glaringly absent from your social media recently and it makes your heart ache at the idea of him being nonexistent.

Your fans have noticed too. You read comment after comment all asking the same thing; What happened to you and Bucky? 

“Oh, Lucia! My dear, Lucia.” You bite down a grin at the sound of Bucky’s voice through your door. His words were filtered by the wall between you and a little slurred from the drinks he had no doubt consumed at the hotel bar. “Open the door, please.” 

You lock your phone and lay it on the bed beside you. “I’m busy, Bucky! Go bother Sam.” You call back despite already walking towards the door. 

“Bother Sam? On our last night together?” You can see Bucky smile teasingly though the peephole. Despite his joking tone the words hurt. “Four years together and this is how things end? Through a hotel room door?” 

His fist comes up to bang against the door and a hand comes up to his heart. He’s putting on a show for you, fully away of your eye watching carefully through the peephole. “How much have you had to drink, Bucky Barnes?” You ask as the door remains closed. 

Bucky holds his fingers up in a pinch too small to be true. “Not much.” When his hand falls back to his side he smiles up at the peephole. “Let me in, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.” 

You melt, becoming putty in his hand as you quickly move to unlatch the door. “I’ve missed you too.” You admit to him, face to face, as you lean against the door jam. 

A smirk replaces Bucky’s sweet smile as his hands reach out to grip your hips. “This break-up is tough on me, baby.” He pushes you into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. “One more night. One last time. You and me.” 

“Shut up!” You force his hands off of you and turn towards the mini bar in your room. “You’re such a dweeb. I’m glad we’re breaking up.” You pull out the miniature bottle of wine and twist the top off. 

Bucky’s hand slams across his chest as he falls against the wall in dramatic fashion. “You’re… Glad? My frail heart can’t take it,” he falls to his knees, “Please. Tell my mother, I loved her.”

You watch, unamused, as Bucky falls to the floor in front of you. “You’re obnoxious.” A beaming smile breaks out onto Bucky’s face that makes you grin.

“I was serious, about missing you.” Bucky moves to sit up with his back against the edge of your bed. You move to sit beside him on the floor. “These junkets and photos just aren’t the same without you by my side, cracking jokes in my ear.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Me too. I love Wanda, but it’s just not the same.” You admit quietly.

There’s so much that you want to say to him. What if this wasn’t fake? What if we didn’t go through with the break-up plan? “Did they send you our social media plan?” Bucky asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You swallow thickly, “I have my assistant going through my account for me soon. We’re supposed to start untagging and deleting photos of each other this week.”

Bucky snorts. “How fucking sweet. Four years together and they have us untag each other to confirm a break up.” His fingers tap against his thigh as the two of you sit on the carpeted floor together.

“Has it really been four years?” You ask quietly. It’s more of a question to yourself, but Bucky answers it with a nod anyways.

“My longest relationship ever and it was fake.” Bucky’s awkward laugh makes the air tense as he stares down at his hands. “I’ve wasted so much of my life. So many chances gone.”

You know the words aren’t said with ill intent, but that doesn’t stop the crack from forming in your heart. You can’t fathom the idea of all your time together, fake or not, being a waste.

Your eyes cut away from him in embarrassment. “Was it really all a waste?” You ask quietly. The words are unintentional, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’re out in the air.

“What?” You can feel his eyes settle on you in an attempt to read your face or body language, but a career in acting comes in handy. Your back is ramrod straight and your face turned away perfectly to hide the emotions in your eyes. “It was fake when we could have had something real with people we actually cared about.”

It’s a knife to your broken heart. “People we actually care about?”

“You know, like, other girls and guys who we wanted to pursue but couldn’t because of the contract.” Bucky reaches out to wrap a hand around yours, but you pull away. “I don’t understand what’s wrong here.”

You shake your head, the regret of your words settling over you. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s been a long day.” You use the edge of the bed to help you stand while Bucky remains on the floor, watching you in confusion. “I’m tired, you should go.”

“Woah. What’s this one-eighty?” Bucky stands too and follows you as you move around to gather your toothbrush and skincare. “Two seconds ago we were joking about a fake break-up and now you’re all quiet and weird? You expect me to just leave?”

“Please.” You plead. The last thing you want to do is dump all your feelings out to Bucky, on the last day you two were officially contracted to each other, and make him feel guilty for feeling free. “I just need to be alone, Buck.”

You move to push past him towards your bathroom, but Bucky’s hand wraps around your wrist. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t do this closing yourself off thing.”

“I’m not.” You say stubbornly. “I’m tired.” You try again to move past him, but his grip only tightens as he forces you to actually face him. “Buck-“

“You can tell me, you know?” He says quietly as his grip slackens. Your eyes meet his, pools of blue staring back at you with something akin to hurt. “You can trust me. We’re best friends, right? You’re my-“

“You don’t have to lie to me, Bucky. Pretend to care. You can go back to the bar and…” You pull your hand from him and cross your arms over your chest. “And tomorrow we can start being with people we actually care about.”

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut as his own words are repeated back and left out in the open between you two. “That’s not what I…”

“What did you mean then?” You cut him off. You want to sound angry, but your tone is sad and tired. “Enlighten me, please.”

“I just meant… I meant we could date who we wanted to date, I didn’t mean for it to sound so awful.” He answers quietly. “I care about you a lot. We’ve been friends for over half a decade, of course I care about you.”

You swallow thickly. “What if I don’t want to date anyone else?” You force yourself to ask. If not now, then when? Ten years from now at a reunion of your show? You couldn’t live with this what if.

“What?” Bucky’s hand falls from your wrist as he takes a step back like your words have burned him.

You push through the thundering of your heart and ringing in your ears to ask, “haven’t you ever thought about it? I mean, four years of just us, all those dates and premieres, was it really all just work for you?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw as you stare at him expectantly. “Have you?”

“I asked the question I think that would imply…” You trail off as his answer weighs down on your mind. It feels like a no. No. No. No. It’s on repeat in your mind as you move to sit down on your bed. “After a while the dates and photos and sappy posts didn’t feel all that forced anymore.” You admit quietly.

Bucky paces silently in front of you. You’re unsure of what’s going through his mind as he does it and it’s all you can do to not tap anxiously as you watch.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He finally asks when he finally pauses in front of you. You look up at him unsure of what to say. “I mean… When did you start…” He trails off like he doesn’t want the answer.

You look down at your hands in your lap. Despite your worries in telling Bucky you guess you had never truly thought of this conversation ending up this way. All these questions felt like Bucky preparing for a gentle rejection.

“I don’t know. After our second anniversary?” You keep your answer to him vague despite you being fully aware of when you started seeing Bucky differently. “That post you wrote for me that day. All the ones after. All of those words were fake?”

Your mind drifts to his words that day. The sweet and short caption had made butterflies erupt as you scrolled through the photos he had posted with it. Despite you both being required to post something, the photos he had chosen had been entirely genuine.

Pictures the two of you had taken together on set, selfies during your fake dates, and even a sweet set of photo booth pictures from your first premiere together.

You had stared at the post far too long as emotions rushed through you. Your heart raced at the idea of Bucky taking his time to pick photos that meant something to the both of you.

“I think that..” You shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful reminders. “I think you should go.” You stand up suddenly, your hands pushing gently at his chest.

Bucky’s eyes widen as his hands come up grip your arms in an attempt to stop you. “Woah. Let’s talk about this. I’m just trying to figure everything out.”

“Figure it out? What is there to figure out, Bucky?” You cry out, shoving harder. “If you don’t know how you feel then you should figure it out on your own.” You move past him to open the door.

Bucky follows after you hastily. “Sweetheart, wait, please. I just need a moment.” You grip his forearms tightly using Bucky’s own momentum against him as you guide him to the hallway outside your room. “I wasn’t expecting this. We have articles and photos and interviews planned about a break-up tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything, Bucky.” The two of you are back where your night began. Opposite sides of the door as you stare, unsure of what to say. “Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay? The article will be published and we’ll confirm it and life will move on.”

The door slams shut in his face without warning, not giving him a chance to say anything else. You stare blankly at the ugly, green shade its painted in silence as you remind yourself; It was all fake. A script you had been given and followed to a tee. One you had gotten too caught up in.

You’re feelings don’t change the ending.

There’s a slow knock on your door. You suck in a breath as you move to open it an apology on the tip of your tongue.

“Bucky.” You’re cut off as his hands come up to rest on your cheeks and he pulls you towards him. Anything you had to say dissipates as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss.

Your hands come up to grip his t-shirt tightly as you kiss him back your tongue slipping into his mouth while he pulls you flush against his body.

An arm wraps around your waist and Bucky pushes you back into your room, his foot kicking your door closed harshly.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you finally pull away to look at Bucky, but he speaks before you can say anything.

“Of course I’ve thought about it.” He breathes out. His eyes are wide with nerves and his cheeks flushed red. The sight of it mixed with his kiss makes your heart pound. “I’ve thought about kissing you for real, not in a room filled with crew and cameras. About what it would be like to be on a date where paparazzi hasn’t been tipped off. Baby,” his hands rest on your cheeks again as he forces your eyes to meet his, “I’ve thought about it all. What it would be like to be with you, to really be with you in every way. Sometimes it’s all I think about when we’re together.”

You take pause, your eyes widening and hands freezing in place as you listen to what he’s saying. “Why didn’t you say anything then? Why’d you just pace and ask me all those questions?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” He smiles brightly when you giggle. “Because I couldn’t believe you actually felt the same way. I was in shock.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You smile up at him softly. “What do we do about the article tomorrow?” You whisper your question.

You feel giddy with excitement as Bucky’s hands land on your hips to hold you in place, flush against him. “We deny it.”

“What about our managers?” Your smile doesn’t fade even as stress over the situation arises. “And…And our separate interviews tomorrow?”

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” Bucky smiles. “We’ll tell them all about how in love we still are. That the source in the article was a dud and we’ve just been private recently as the show wraps.”

“We will?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing at his words. “You want to say all that?”

Bucky nods his head. “I do.”

You don’t say anything else he leans in for another kiss, you could worry tomorrow.

Bonus -> The Next Day

liked by buckybarnes, samwilson and 134,759 others

yourinstagram the final season of our show premieres this weekend and we’re so excited for you all to see how it ends. the first photo is from tonight and the second from our first season! the past six years has brought me so much joy and i’m so grateful for everything this show has given me. most importantly though, i’m thankful for you, bucky barnes. my adrian to my lucia. my best friend. my lover. thanks for making this show so fun.

View all 15,398 comments

samwilson we made a great show. love you guys.

buckyfan thought y’all were a pr stunt lmao

yourinstagram apparently you’re not supposed to really fall in love for those to work…

buckybarnes i am most grateful for you. you made work worth it every god damn day.

yourfan my favorite couple on and off the screen.

— ➶ —

notes -> this is my first ever time joining a writing challenge, it really pushed me to work through block and focus on this instead of letting is die out like i have with other projects despite liking them so much!

(hoping you guys don’t hate the extra instagram idea, i just felt it fit in!)

hopefully you enjoyed and if you did, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 20 - The Compass [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 4000

Summary: Coming home can be unpleasant.

After getting a phone call from the FBI, you were now sure of one thing:

Karma really needed another hobby other than messing with you, and this break up was definitely not going the way it was supposed to go.

For starters, people who broke up with each other were not supposed to see each other this much. You had different lives, different social circles, different jobs and somehow universe kept pushing you two in each other’s space.

To make things worse, the last time you talked to Garcia she had offhandedly mentioned Luke dragging Spencer to a nightclub much to his displeasure and introducing him to a friend of his. Naturally, your mind was full of images of Spencer in a happy relationship, eventually moving to a house in the suburbs with her and having kids and all that.  

“I don’t know what Luke is thinking,” Garcia said, “But I’m two seconds away from pulling him aside and giving him a piece of my mind. Reid is obviously still not over you, ambushing him to introduce him to a girl won’t change that.”

Needless to say, you had been in a terrible mood for the last couple of days.

“What’s taking her so long?” you checked your wristwatch and Nolan looked at you over his newspaper.

“Oh she’s talking to the board of the charity auction,” he said, “There are some last minute changes, apparently.”

You heaved a sigh and checked the time again, “I can’t stay for long,” you murmured and Nolan raised his brows.

“Oh? In a hurry?”

“Me and Spencer and…well, some of his team will go by the woods,” you said, “They found some bones near dad’s cabin close to the weekend house and they think it might help me remember where the rest is buried.”

He made a face, “That’s disturbing.”

“Nah, I thought going on a dead body remains hunt with my ex in the woods near one of my childhood trauma places would be romantic,” you deadpanned, “You don’t do that with your exes?”

“Not really?”

“Oh man you’re missing out.”

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “I take it things haven’t improved on the heartbreak front?”

“I wouldn’t know, apparently his friend is setting him up with someone.”

“Mm, let me guess,” he mused, “Your plan is to do nothing about it?”

“No, I’m actually following your example,” you smiled at him sweetly, “I’ll just wait for decades and hope the girl turns out to be a serial killer.”

He tilted his head. “Touché.”

“Aw thank you,” you pushed at the food in your plate, “No seriously, what can I do? I can’t just go to him and tell him not to date other people. We broke up— I broke up with him.”

“You could explain the reason behind that.”

“I can’t do that.”

He clicked his tongue, “Well then, I suggest you get ready just in case he happens to ask for your help planning his wedding.”

“You’ve been absolutely no help at all Nolan, I appreciate that.”

“I’m offering you my wisdom and you’re not taking it,” he held up his hands, gesturing surrender, “I also suggested to get his superiors to fix a meeting with him to talk to him about certain boundaries and mistakes but…”

“Get his superiors— I’m sorry, what?”

“I play poker with the head of the department he works under.”

“Of course you do.” You sipped your coffee, “When did you suggest that exactly?”

“Oh not to you, to your mother,” he nodded to himself as he saw the look on your face, “Yeah. But then I saw how it could not only damage some professional relationships, but also it’s better to let young people solve their own problems, no matter how easy it is to solve them with an outsider’s influence.”

You pulled your brows together.

“Try again.”

“I asked your mother and she said no.”

“Oh thank God.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah no, don’t do that. We’re not in high school, you know?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he smiled slightly at the scandalized look on your face.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand in the air, “It’s strange that mom said no though. She doesn’t really like him nowadays, and she keeps listing all his….disadvantages whenever I talk about him.”

“Disadvantages?”

“Mm hm. The other day she said it was maybe for the best in the long run, because he’s an FBI agent so considering his paychecks, we would eventually fight about our future children’s tuition fees.”

Nolan thought for a moment, “She does have a point, considering what FBI pays their agents…”

You blinked a couple of times, “Right,” you said, “That’s exactly why I broke up with him. Because who would be paying for our hypothetical future children’s future tuition fees, yeah. Deal breaker, that one.”

“It could be a contributing factor though—“ he started but you heard your mother’s heels approaching and soon enough she walked into the living room and pressed a kiss on your cheek.

“Darling, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” she told you before pecking Nolan on the lips, making him smile, “This whole charity auction, honestly…”

“Do I have to come to that thing?” you looked between them, your brows pulled together in an attempt to make them take pity on you but your mother tilted her head.

“Yes you do.”

“It’s just that…” you heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, I’m going through a break up—“

“You’ve been going through a break up for more than a month now, you’re not allowed to use that as an excuse.”

“My heart is broken!”

“Good, focus on charity then.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to Nolan, “What’s the real reason she’s dragging me to this?”

“Oh no, I’m not getting caught in this crossfire.”

“Mom?”

She cleared her throat and sipped her coffee, “The other day when I visited Nolan at work, he happened to introduce me to this very handsome Chief Marketing Officer who’s handling—“

“Oh no.”

“Keep in mind that we pay him more than what FBI pays his agents.” Nolan stated, laughing up his sleeve as if he found it hilarious and you scrunched up your nose.

“Nolan, I know you were born in the eighteenth century but that’s actually not a problem we have these days.”

“He’s single,” your mother said as if she wasn’t even listening and you threw your head back, letting out a whine, “He loves dogs and squash—“

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not sitting at our table,” your mother said, “I fixed another surprise for you at our table, and I figured you’d want to keep your options open.”

“Besides, if your ex boyfriend is moving on…” Nolan trailed off and your mother raised her brows.

“Oh, Spencer has a girlfriend now?”

“No!” you said way too loudly and then cleared your throat, “I mean—I don’t care. But I don’t think so, I would’ve heard it.”

“See? More reason for you to meet other people.”

You pouted, “I hate this so much. I can’t believe I’m being dragged into this nonsense only because you guys are making me, this is seriously bullshit…”

“Y/N, do you want some cookies?” Nolan interrupted your grumbling, “One of my assistants brought them from France the other day.”

You scoffed, “How old do you think I—” you paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders, “Actually yeah, I’d love some cookies right now.”

                                                  ***

Unfortunately, when you left your mother’s house you had overestimated the traffic and how long it would take you to get there so by the time you had pulled over by the road leading into the woods, you could only see one FBI car. You didn’t have to wonder who was in it when your eyes caught the sight of Spencer leaning against it and your heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck…” you murmured to yourself and considered for a short second to drive away until others got there, but it was too late. Spencer turned his head, saw your car and stopped dead on his tracks so you heaved a sigh and pushed open the door to step outside. You looked around before you pulled yourself up to sit on the hood before you fished your cigarette pack out of your purse.

“You’re early.” Spencer said and you raised your glances to look at him for a second before lighting your cigarette.

“So are you,” you put the lighter back into your purse, “Came by yourself?”

“Luke is talking with the police.”

“Lovely,” you exhaled the smoke and he crossed his arms, looking up at the sky for a moment before stealing a look at you.

You had no idea what to say to him. After that one day of truce, it was like you were back to being enemies and ignoring each other. The fact that he might have been ready to date another person made you feel even worse if it was possible, especially after that phone call between you. He had said that he was a mess just like you were, he had said you had taken a part of him when you left him, and—

You didn’t even know what you hoped for. You knew it wouldn’t change anything, and yet the thought of him being with someone else was more than enough to make you feel like you were falling off a cliff.

Maybe it was just the truce talking. Maybe he didn’t mean any of that.

Your phone vibrating in your purse made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked at the caller I.D., then frowned and answered.

“Hey, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“On a Sunday?” Lincoln’s voice reached you, “Who’s the workaholic now?”

“Still you Linc,” you said and Spencer’s head shot up, “What’s up?”

“I just called to let you know that they just moved me to your table.”

You pulled your brows, “I’m sorry, what?”

“At the charity auction. My table was 3, they just e-mailed me to say I’ve been moved to 1.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re the surprise?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Somebody needs to stop my mother.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” you said, “I…That’s great, we’ll sit together then. If you like sulking the whole night, we’ll be just fine.”

“Come on, it could be fun.”

“I doubt that.”

“Hey, at least you’re not alone.”

“I’ll drink throughout that night, you sure you can keep up?”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to, you amateur?”

“Oh it’s on.” You smiled slightly and he chuckled.

“I’ll see you at our table then. With drinks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said before you hung up, and put the phone back into your purse before you felt Spencer’s burning gaze on you, so you looked up at him.

“What?” you asked and he scoffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Professor.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his gaze fixed on the woods and you tilted your head.

“Fine.”

He sucked a breath through his clenched teeth, as if trying to decide whether to say anything or not before you could ask again, Luke approached you two, another car pulling over by your car.

“Hey there.” You greeted Luke as you jumped off the hood and he tilted his head.

“Why are you shorter?”

You motioned at your sneakers, “I figured since we’re going into the woods, heels would be a bad idea.”

“Is this the first time I’m seeing you without heels?”

“Probably.”

“Should we get going?”

JJ stole a look at Spencer and you, then turned to Luke, “Actually, do you mind coming with me to the car for a moment? There’s this file I want to get your opinion on.” She nodded at you, “You guys go ahead if you want.”

You pulled your brows together for a second, trying to understand what was happening but then decided you wouldn’t question it and stepped into the woods, a shiver running down your spine.

It looked way too familiar.

You gritted your teeth and started walking, and it didn’t take long for Spencer to catch up with you.

“So I never got to ask you,” you managed to say after almost ten minutes of complete silence, “That…that blood vial in that petal bowl, whose blood was it?”

“Anthony’s.”

“Right,” you murmured as you kept walking, “Was it….was it something my dad did back then?”

“No.” Spencer said curtly and you looked over your shoulder.

“So then what does it—“

“Are you dating other people?” the words left his lips in a hurry as if he didn’t know how to stop them and you stopped dead on your tracks.

“I beg your pardon?”

He opened his mouth for a moment like he was trying to find the right words but then he closed it and shrugged his shoulders.

“Never mind,” he murmured, walking past you and you gawked after him for a while before you rushed after him.

“No, what was that?”

“Nothing.”

Maybe your whole theory about Spencer being a genius therefore not being able to be jealous wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I’m not— is this about Lincoln?” you held up the phone in your hand before you sped up to catch up with his long strides, “There’s this stupid charity auction bullshit and we’re both attending it, that’s it.”

“Alright,” he murmured, still walking and you let out a breath.

“Spencer!”

“What?” he turned around to look at you, that fire burning in his eyes again, “I said never mind, okay?”

“I’m not dating Lincoln!” you exclaimed “And I— even if I were, at least he’s not someone I met at a nightclub my friends forced me to go, unlike some of us.”

“What does that-” he started but it hit him in a second, “Garcia told you.”

“It came up.”

He raised his brows, “Yeah? How?”

“It just did.” You managed to say even if your cheeks were burning, “So what? You’re going to stand there and ask me that when you’re moving on already?”

“I’m not moving on!” he said as if you had just insulted him, “Besides, you broke up with me remember?”

“Yeah and you wasted no time Spencer, congratulations.” You murmured as you walked past him but as soon as your eyes caught the sight of the huge cabin by the small hill, your breath got caught in your throat and you took a step back, the memory flashing through your mind so fast that the headache hit you out of nowhere.

Your father tugged you by your hand through the woods as you yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

“Are you sleepy honey?”

You nodded, looking up at him, 

“Daddy I thought we were going to come here tomorrow, with mom and Mina.” you said as you hugged the huge teddy bear you had brought with you when your father had woken you up and told you that you would be taking a small trip to the cabin.

“We are,” he said, “We will go back home after our hunt is done here.”

“Yeah but mom says Mina and I can’t be outside the cabin at night,” you murmured, “The lake is too close, remember? We might fall in, she says.”

“She’s right, no leaving the cabin by yourself when it’s dark outside,” he said, “Or else no chocolate for a week, you know the rules.”

“Okay, okay…” you yawned again, and your father knelt down so that you could look him in the eye.

“Petal honey, I want you to pay attention,” he said, “Look around. Let’s say you’re in the woods by yourself and you’re hunting. You know how we hunt, right?”

You took a deep breath, “Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.”

“Very good,” he said, “When you’re hunting in the woods, what’s the first thing you do?”

“Look up at the sky,” you said, “That’s how I know where I am.”

“Good start. How about if your prey is running to get away from you? How do you chase them?”

“People aren’t calm when they’re being hunted,” you repeated what he had told you, “They make noises. I follow that, and wait for them to tire themselves out.”

He nodded, then you both climbed the stairs to the front door of the cabin.

“And what’s the one thing you remember?”

“To stay calm and patient.”

He smiled at you and opened the door to the cabin so that you could see the bloodied person tied to a chair, screaming through the gag.

“Good,” he said, “Let’s go over what we do with the prey, shall we?”

“Y/N!” Spencer’s voice cut through the memory, almost grabbing you and pulling you back to the reality and it was only when you realized you weren’t standing anymore, instead you were on the ground on your knees, gasping for breath.

“I can’t—“ you choked out, pressing a hand over your chest “I—I can’t breathe—“

“Yes you can,” he helped you sit and lean your back to the tree trunk, “You just need to focus on me, alright? Can you breathe with me?”

You sniffled, trying to match your breathing with his and he nodded,

“There you go,” he said with a smile, “You’re doing great. Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, still desperate to cling to anything that would protect you from that memory and he entwined his fingers with you.

“Keep your focus on me,” he said as he wiped the teardrop off your cheek with his free hand,  awakening a fire right beneath your cheekbone, “Here’s what we’re going to do, you will inhale when I squeeze your hand, exhale when I stop. Can we do that together?”

You inhaled when you felt his grip tightening around your hand, then exhaled when it became loose again.

“Y/N?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Hm?”

“Why are public proposals so bad?”

A teary laugh escaped from your lips, “Professor…”

“No, I want you to tell me,” he said as you inhaled again when he squeezed your hand, “Why are they so bad?”

“Because they—“ you exhaled, “They’re not private.”

“They could be romantic.”

“But they’re not,” you protested, “They’re not romantic. They’re pretentious.”

“Pretentious?” he squeezed your hand once more and you took another breath.

“If you need an audience for something like that, you’re pretentious yeah.” You said as the nausea slowly retreated and he pushed your hair behind your ear before his knuckles brushed over your neck, it lasted only a moment but it was enough for you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he offered you a small smile.

“Anytime.”

“Brings back the memories, huh?” you leaned your head back to the tree trunk and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “Yeah it really does.”

You pressed your lips together, “Spencer, why are you helping me?” you asked him, taking him by surprise, “With….all this. I thought you hated me.”

He swallowed thickly,

“I can’t hate you,” his voice was almost a murmur, “I wish I could. Trust me, I tried.”

“Guys?” you heard Luke’s voice and you turned your head to see them approaching, “What’re you—what happened?”

“We’ll meet you there in a second,” Spencer said, shooting JJ a look and she nodded.

“Okay,” she said, “Come on Luke.”

They walked past you to the cabin and you looked up at the sky for a couple of seconds before willing yourself to focus on him again.

“You remembered something,” he said and you nodded.

“A memory,” you managed to say, “I…Spencer, there are dead bodies in there.”

“I know, we found bones in the backyard—“

“No,” you cut him off, “You don’t understand. There are dead bodies in the cabin.”

He pulled his brows together and you pulled your hand out of his before standing up on shaky legs, still holding onto the tree for support.

“Y/N, we can wait-” he said but you shook your head and made your way to the cabin until you reached the stairs. Every cell in your body was screaming at you to run away, but you managed to force yourself to climb the stone stairs and stopped for a moment at the door as Spencer stepped to stand next to you. Everything looked exactly the same as you had left them all those years ago right before your father was arrested.

A shudder went down your spine, the same as the one you had gotten when you woke up in your apartment after being drugged. Something in here was way too dangerous for you and it wouldn’t rest until you were at its mercy so you had to get away before it could dig its claws under your skin, but-

You had to do this. You could do this.

You had been through much worse than this before.

You had survived your father, you had survived his copycats, you had survived everything thrown your way so far, you could survive this as well.

You rolled your shoulders back and stepped into the huge living room, the memory pushing at your mind but you shook your head, forcing yourself to focus.

“We can leave if you want,” Spencer murmured and you dug your fingernails into your palms hard enough to hurt.

There was a reason why police couldn’t find anything in this goddamn place when they first checked. You had repressed the memory just like you had repressed the rest, and now that you were here…

The memories about the cabin were swirling in your head, each more terrifying than other.

“Luke.”

Luke turned his head, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind stepping aside for a moment?” you asked, “Actually, if no one could—if no one could stand on the rug that’d be ideal. Thanks.”

JJ shot you a look but nodded at the two other agents walking around the living room and you slowly approached the magnetic chess board by the coffee table, holding out your hand over the pieces for a second. Panic roared through you but you gritted your teeth and moved the pawn, then put the bishop where your father taught you to put it way back then.

“It’ll be like a treasure hunt, but you need to keep it a secret,” he had told you, “Pinky swear?”

You turned the queen in hand your for a moment, then put it right next to the bishop and the small basement trapdoor which was impossible to see even if someone was looking for it clicked under the rug. Spencer froze for a moment before he and Luke pulled the rug off the floor and pulled open the hatch but the smell coming from downstairs made you cover your mouth.

“Stay here,” Luke told the agents as he went downstairs and Spencer followed him right before JJ did. You stalled there for a moment, trying to repress the fear pinning you to your spot before you stepped closer to the stairs leading down to the secret basement.

“Miss—“ the agent said but you ignored him and made your way down. JJ and Spencer already had their flashlights on as Luke held his gun, ready to pull the trigger at any unexpected movement.

“You can’t be here.” Spencer told you but you weren’t even mood to snap back at him. You dragged your fingertips on the wall until you found the switch and turned the light on, the smell getting worse and worse.

There were three huge boxes by the wall, all tightly shut and you had a feeling—

No, not a feeling. What you had was a memory and you knew exactly what was in them.

Spencer turned to you, apparently ready to tell you to go upstairs again but as soon as his eyes caught something over your shoulder, he froze, his jaw clenching. You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and faster as Luke stopped dead on his tracks.

“Y/N, go upstairs.” Spencer said, his tone way too controlled until you turned your head, “No wait, don’t look—“

But it was too late. The bloodied message on the wall made you gasp as you took a step back, unable to look away as that familiar dread filled you once more, the simple line causing goosebumps to rise on your skin;

Welcome home Petal.

                                 Chapter 21 

[auramindedd]

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

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

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

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

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

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[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Two

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone who has read part 1 and has sent back such kind feedback. It really means a lot! 

Part 1

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, angsty as hell 

Just open the fucking door.

You hesitated as your right hand hovered over the familiar front door. Over the last five years you’ve always just walked in. This home was like your home. But now, he wasn’t just his.  

“Just walk in. It’s not rocket science.” You muttered to yourself. Sighing you tapped your fist against the wood. 

Your body relaxed a smile fell on your face as you heard Dodger’s familiar bark ring through the house as he approached the door. 

“Alright, bubba. Relax.” The butterflies flurried in your stomach as Chris’s voice carried past the door. You gave a small smile as the door flung open to reveal a shirtless Chris. “Why did you knock, you meatball.” 

You just shrugged and quickly gave him a hug. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” You asked as you both made your way to the kitchen, his arm slung loosely over your shoulder. 

“I was supposed to go watch the game with Scott but he wasn’t feeling too hot, so I’m actually just going to stay in. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of your girls night.” He laughed, ruffling your hair as you turned the corner and caught view of Carissa. 

“Yeah no boys allowed. Right, Y/N?” Carissa dried off her hands and rushed over to you, pulling you into a full body hug. You bit back the frustration when you realized that she was wearing the shirt that you always wore whenever you would spend the night at Chris’s, the familiar fabric like sandpaper under your fingertips now as you gently hugged her back. 

“Yeah. No boys.” You said meekly as you took another good look at her. The shirt looked way better on her than it ever did on you. It fell just below her hips, the way it did on you but she somehow made it look so stylish. She just had on a pair of workout leggings underneath and fluffy socks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail and you noticed how she managed to not look like a founding father with her hair pulled back. 

Subconsciously you twisted the bottom of your oversized college crewneck in your fingers. You were practically wearing the same thing as her but you felt like a middle school girl in gym class while she just screamed model off duty. 

Add that to the reasons he noticed her and not me. 

You needed to stop comparing yourself to her. But it was hard when the stark contrasts were so evident. 

“So,” Carissa clapped her hands together. “Chris told me about your love for tequila so I made some of my famous spicy margaritas! And I just put on some popcorn and I may have gone a little overboard at Ulta today.” 

You followed her gaze and it landed on an array of face masks and nail polish. 

“Sounds like my que to leave. Have fun, ladies.” Chris pecked you on the cheek before pulling Carissa into a passionate kiss. You turned away, your face reddening. 

“Thanks, baby.” You heard Carissa sigh. You heard the sound of them kissing again and you looked for any welcome distraction. 

As if he could feel your pain, a wet nose booped your hand and you smiled down at your favorite little pup. 

“Hi buddy.” You bent down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “I’ve missed you so much. Yes I have.” You ruffled his fur and smiled a genuine smile as he started licking your face. 

“Oh boy, Bubba found his girlfriend.” Chris laughed as he bent down next to you. “I think he missed you more than I did when we were in Canada. Every time we would FaceTime his ears would perk up.” 

“That’s cause he’s my best bud.” You kept talking to Dodger. 

“Ouch.” Chris gently pushed you. You winked in his direction and for a moment everything felt normal. Chris’s eyes sparkled as if he was appreciating the normalcy too. 

“Chris, please.” You were snapped out of it when Carissa let out a playful whine. 

Chris blinked and then slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Alright, baby. I’m gone.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“He did not!” Carissa burst out laughing as you finished telling the story of when Chris singlehandedly knocked down an entire aisle in CVS. 

“I’ve never seen him turn so red in my life. I think he went back to that CVS every day for the next year to apologize. And of course he stayed afterwards to help clean up.” You wiped your eyes, tears falling from laughter. 

“Sounds just like him.”  

You took another sip of your margarita. You were surprised at how much fun you were actually having. You guys had just finished your second sheet mask of the night and were currently working on demolishing the stuffed crust pizza you ordered. Manis and Pedis to follow. 

“Have I walked in on an evil plan being hatched?” You both turned as Chris emerged from the basement, Dodger in tow. Thankfully he had put a shirt on because his tattoos always did something to you. 

“Had to share the CVS Incident of ‘17.” You replied as Carissa hid her face as she giggled again. 

“Oh god,” Chris groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Please. Let that story die.” You watched as he positioned himself behind Carissa, caging her in with his arms. You always knew Chris was an affectionate person. If it was a year ago, you would have been the one trapped between him. He had a lot of love to give and wasn’t afraid to show it. He placed a kiss on the top of her head before his blue eyes met yours. 

You knew that he was silently asking you if you were having a good time. You could see the sense of hope that was behind the question. 

“You came up just in time for a manicure.” Carissa turned around on the stool and smiled up at her boyfriend. “I’m thinking hot pink would look amazing on you.” 

“I don’t know, I think he’s more of an aquamarine kind of guy.” You lifted up the shade of blue that was in front of you. “Compliments his eyes.” 

“Ooh, you are so right, Y/N/N.” 

“Wow, would you look at that? Looks like the game is back on.” Chris jokingly started moving away from Carissa.

“Oh come on, baby. One hand.” Carissa pulled at his hand, her lips coming out in a pout.

Chris gave her a look of fake annoyance but you could see the smile forming on his lips before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“One hand.” 

“Yay!” 

You watched as Chris sat down and Carissa got to work painting his nails. 

“Okay, Y/N. Tell me about the men in your life.” Carissa looked away from Chris’s hand and turned to you.

“Well, I guess you’ve already met them. Chris, Scott and Dodger are it.” You shrugged, half kidding and half not. Chris gave you a look of what you could only call pity and you chose to ignore him. You could feel your face become hot at your lack of a love life. 

“Oh that can’t be the case. You’re absolutely gorgeous, there’s no way that men aren’t all over you. Right, Chris? Tell her she’s beautiful.” 

“She knows I think she’s beautiful.” Chris said, his tone seriously as his eyes never left yours. “It’s more of getting her to know that.”  

“We’re not going to talk about it.” 

You and Chris stared each other down before Carissa cleared her throat. 

“Well one day you are going to find something like what we have.  The hopeless romantic in me truly believes that there is someone for everyone; and I know that if we can find happiness like this, so can you. You’re an amazing person, Y/N.” 

You looked down and bit your lip. You wanted so badly not to like her, to have her be some terrible person so you could justify the feelings that you had for her boyfriend. And yet, here she was, being the kindest person and caring truly for your feelings and your happiness. 

“Thank you, Carissa.” 

She smiled a toothy grin before turning her attention back to Chris. Chris kept his eyes on you a moment longer but when you didn’t look back he sighed and focused on his girlfriend. 

- - - - - - - 

“You don’t have to do that.” Carissa came up behind you as you finished washing the plates from before. 

“It’s really no problem.” You shrugged. “You did all of this, the least I can do is clean up.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my guest. A host should never have her guest clean up.” You knew she meant it without malice but the words stung. She was right. That’s all you were in this house, a guest. You were their guest. They lived here, together. 

You just nodded and finished the plate you were cleaning before stepping away from the sink so Carissa could finish. You mumbled that you were headed to the bathroom and quickly made your departure from the kitchen. 

You rounded the familiar corner and bit your lip as you were five steps away from the bathroom, where you could finally take a deep breath. 

“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped as Chris stepped out of his bedroom, a grin plastered on his face. “I think you made a good call on the nail polish color.” He waved his fingers in your face, jokingly. 

You let out a soft laugh but refused to meet his eyes, instead eying the bathroom door that was so close and yet so far. 

“Okay, come on.” Chris’s voice got serious. “Is there something going on at work? Are you sick? Why are you so…” Chris motioned his hands up and down your body. 

“So what, Chris?” 

“So sad?” His eyebrows creased in concern. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

Not everything. 

“I told you at the restaurant, I’m fine.” 

“Yeah and I barely believed you then.” You bit your lip and once again looked away from him. You should have known that he knew you were lying out of your ass. 

“Chris, it doesn’t matter. It’s not your problem.” You huffed. 

“Of course it’s my problem.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“But it’s not.” You snapped. Chris took a step back at your sudden change in attitude. “Just back off. You’re not my boyfriend.” 

“And?” He snapped back, but he did move closer to you. He reached out and grabbed your forearms, pulling you into him.  “I may not be your boyfriend but I am your best friend.” 

“Chris, just let it go. It doesn’t even concern you.” You lied as you pushed him away.  

“Well clearly this one thing as something to do with me. Since you’ve been acting like a mega bitch since I got home.” He crossed his arms. 

You took a step back. Chris had never called you that before. Yes, you two had gotten into some heated discussions in the past and maybe have gone a couple times without talking to each other for maybe a day. But never once has he called you a bitch. 

“Chris!” Carissa’s scolding voice came from behind. “Apologize to her right now, there is no reason to call any woman that word.” 

Chris’s gaze held yours before it softened. 

He sighed and dropped his arms. “Fuck...sweetheart. I’m-” 

“Thank you for having me over, Carissa. I really did have a great time.” You turned away from him before he could finish. “I think I’m going to head out though.” 

“Of course.” Carissa glared at Chris over your shoulder. “Please let us-or me, know when you get home. We can plan another one soon.” 

“Sure.” You smiled weakly at her before casting one last look at Chris. He opened his mouth to say something but you just shook your head and made your way out of the house. 

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[after-witch]

Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Title: Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Synopsis:  request, “Please I love that troupe where Shigaraki gets obsessed with a twitch stream and deluded himself into believing they’re together until he finally takes her home 🥰”

notes: yandere, kidnapping mention, creeper

Shigaraki glances down at the notification on his phone and his chest suddenly feels tight, anxiety blooming across his skin which makes him want to scratch, scratch, scratch. Your Twitch is live again--fuck, he can’t miss it.  He rapidly presses the save button on his Switch, impatient to devote his entire attention to his phone screen--to you.

But fuck, do you make it hard on him lately. You stream so much more now that you’ve gotten followers, gotten popular; donations have become a regular feature rather than something surprising, but those other guys, the ones who flash big donations and write insipid comments, aren’t really fans of yours. Not like he is. He’s been watching and donating and praising you since you were a nobody, a nothing streamer with barely 10 viewers per stream.

That was back when you used to just play games with your cheap little pink earbuds and your messy room behind you. When you used to feel more real, used to express yourself more openly. 

You stumbled over words and reacted naturally, which meant you were boring--or you would be boring, to someone that didn’t know you like he did. Sometimes the small circle of viewers would dwindle down to just Shigaraki and you’d talk to him, only him, replying to his chat messages with earnest honesty. Smiles. Jokes. It was so goddamn cute. He always donated one last time before signing off for the night and you would curl your fingers in a heart and cheerfully bid him good night.

But now that you’re getting big, you’re more polished, more presentable, more popular. And less… like you, he thinks.  You cleared out some little room just for your gaming streams and you have a nice headset now, a background that he can tell you carefully set up to create just the right vibe. You don’t have time for one-on-one convos with your viewers, because your streams never dwindle down, never fizzle out until you’re left awkwardly signing off. 

They’re full-fledged productions, now, whether you’re gaming or doing a Q&A or--these have become one of his favorites--doing a cute yet clearly rehearsed “sleepy morning” stream in your pajamas, picture-perfect coffee in your hand, where you muse about life and love and strawberry pancakes.

It’s cute, he admits, but it’s also too rehearsed. He misses the real you, the real personality that you used to let shine through when hardly anybody was watching. You would only show the real you for him, but now that he’s just one amongst a crowd, you keep yourself protected. He understands. You have an image to maintain, after all. 

It’s even changed your gaming habits. Now when you game, you react so dramatically, bordering on ridiculous. You would never scream at a horror game before--sure, you might cringe, or admit that your heart is pounding like a hammer, but you weren’t cartoonish. But it’s what those losers watching want--they want you to open your mouth so big when something scary happens in a game so they can screencap it and imagine you’re opening your mouth to do something… else. They want you to scream girlishly at jump scares or dramatically fawn over cute guy characters. And of course, they want you to react when they donate--they want to hear those sweet little words: “Thank you sooo much, you’re my number one fan!”

It’s your new little catch phrase, something you’ve integrated into every stream now. It’s even in your intro--“Hello, all my number one fans!”  It’s an in-joke now between your followers. All part of your brand.

Shigaraki knows you don’t mean to hurt him by calling other guys your number one fan. But it does. But it’s okay. He doesn’t hold it against you. He knows that you don’t really mean it, when you’re saying it to them; he’s smart, he can tell the difference in how you react to his donations versus the donations from the absolute shitheads who watch your streams. 

You mean it when you call him your number one fan. It’s the only way he can get you to say his name, now that you’re too busy to really respond properly to the chat. And it’s fine, really, nothing to get too upset over. Because when you finally meet in person, he’ll explain that he’s the only number one fan that you’ll ever need.

He jumps into the stream, annoyed at having missed the beginning, but what he sees on the screen instantly melts away any emotion other than pure adoration and obsession. You’re very… pink today. A pink oversized sweater and pink cat headphones and even glossy pink lipstick that makes your mouth look like candy. 

None of the freaks watching the stream know this, but Shigaraki is the reason why you feel comfortable wearing pink. He remembers one of your early streams, where you wondered out loud if it was cliche to be a girl gamer who likes pink; he’d told you that it was fine, and you’d thanked him. Who knows, without his sage advice, you might be wearing clothing you didn’t like. Wouldn’t that be a shame? He makes a mental note to remind you to thank him, somewhere down the line. Maybe when you were out on a date and wearing a short pink skirt and urging him to take a sip of your vanilla-cherry milkshake, letting him put his lips right on your straw.

A date… the thought makes him feel tight all over. Would you date him? I mean, you were practically dating already, truth be told. It just needed to be formalized. He’d spent so much money on you, and in the early days he knew exactly what his donations bought because you’d happily chatter on about getting a new game or perfume or stack of light novels because of his generosity. Of course, you didn’t talk as much as you used to--well, practically never, except when he donated--but that couldn’t be helped. You were stretched thin, being pulled in directions by these so-called-fans who watched your streams but didn’t give a fuck about the real you underneath. The real you that Shigaraki knows all too well.

Would you date him? No, more than that--did you love him? The way he loves you? The thought of the real you, the one who didn’t bite her lip oh-so-obviously in a bid to look adorable, the one who didn’t mind eating messy lunches while she gamed, the one who always always made sure to wish Shigaraki good night, makes him want to find out.

He rarely participates in the chat nowadays. There’s no point, when you rarely respond to anything other than answers to questions you ask, and even then you cherry pick from the countless replies that pop up in seconds. Donating is the best way to catch your eye, to hear those sweet words from your lips that you only mean when he donates.

But something makes him want to try, today. Maybe it’s all his nostalgia for your early days, the early connection you made that is still going strong. Maybe it’s the allure of the glossy pink lipstick smeared across your lips, making him think about how you might taste of cherries or strawberries or pure sugar.

Whatever it is, it’s pulling his fingers towards the chat, and before he knows it, he’s rapidly typed and hit enter. The second he does he begins to scratch furiously at his neck and he can feel the blood even as his message is quickly dominated by other messages in the chat, inane bullshit.

Tomura001: sry for the sudden question but I need to ask you something personal do you love me?

As a quick thought, he makes a donation, just to ease the nervousness that was flooding through him with every passing millisecond.

He hardly blinks as he stares intently at you, sitting in your chair with your pink lips and pink headphone and soft skin and--you glance over, where he knows you keep a larger screen to see the chat.

And suddenly, you’re speaking.

“Awww,” you say, your voice sweet and flattered, even. “Tomura! Of course I love you! You’re my number one fan!”

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You do love him. I mean, he knew this already; it’s the little things, like how you still have the light novels you bought with his money on your bookshelf and you thank him for his donations like you mean it and you feel confident enough to wear pink, all thanks to him. But he’s never heard it from your mouth before. From your lips. Soft and pink and inviting.

You love him.

You love him.

You love him.

He sets the phone down, a rare occurrence when he’s glued to your streams. But the emotions rushing through him are so strong that he’s worried it will slip out of his fingers and fall, crack on the floor.

He loves you. You love him. You belong to him. So why are you wasting your fucking time streaming to a bunch of worthless losers who don’t care about you? He can buy you the things you want, the things you like. He can clear out some space in his room so you can game together. And he knows girls like things clean, so he’ll even throw out the used soda cans and food wrappers before he brings you home.  You’ll appreciate that, just like you appreciated his donations and late-night practically empty stream chats. You’ll be happy with him. And he can see you and hear you and touch you in a way that he’s been dreaming about (and you’ve been dreaming about, he knows) for ages.

All he has to do is find your address--easy enough--and you’ll be living it up with him before you know it. 

He chews on his lip and picks up his phone. You’ve moved on--you had to, didn’t you, to keep those viewers donating--but he can tell by the way your lips are pursued that you’re thinking about him.

Your number one fan.

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

You accidentally call them daddy in front of the team. 

Aone Takanobu x Reader

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

For you, sweet Anon! I kinda rambled about Aone,,, uhhhh,,,, I just had so much to say about him! This is my first time writing for him and I had a lot of thoughts.... too many Aone thoughts..... I think his is the longest one I’ve written.... LOL bruh,, I was looking at my other posts and realized I have been spelling ‘accidentally’ wrong every entire time wtffff i-

SMUT

WC- 2,517

~~~

Aone Takanobu

Aone… is a service top,,,,, come on we all know he is

Like you cannot tell me this King wouldn’t treat you right, he is one of the ONLY haikyuu boys I would trust enough to marry

TBH mans doesn’t say shit and he isn’t going to say shit when you call him daddy in front of the team

The team though,,,, shit is going to go down like these mfs are going to combust

You have Futakuchi just standing there speechless with a proud look all over his face as he slowly starts clapping

And sweet Sakunami is like….. ‘did you guys hear sum….”

Ugh there is so much I could say about Aone….. like he would try to be sooo gentle with you just because he is a gentle person,,,, a sweet angel whose only concern is that no one will sit next to him on the train…. HOWEVER, despite as gentle as he tries to be this man still has power. Therefore,,,, you’re gonna get your guts rearranged, isn’t that nice?

Anyway,,,, let’s get into it!!

So basically….. it’s after practice and you’re there talking to Mai while waiting for the mf clowns to hurry up

And of course, Futakuchi wants to keep practicing a little bit so you’re like whatever fine,,,,,, since Aone was staying after too

You don’t really mind too much because Mai decided to stay a little longer as well but as soon as she left you grew tired fast, you had been sitting on the floor against the wall for over 40 minutes and all you want to do is go to sleep

You try to hold your tongue and not be rude because,,,, you don’t want to interrupt your boyfriend’s personal practice but gawwwwd were you bored

Instead, you innocently look around,,,,, innocently, however, your eyes keep going back to the tall blocker…. You glare at him so he notices your anger

Aone does and stares at you with a frown like he can’t figure out what he did wrong,,,,,,, you puff your cheeks out in retaliation

Behind him you see Futakuchi looking at you with a smug expression like 0.0 ,,,,,,, and then Aone looks at him disapprovingly

“What, I was just trying to join in on the conversation,” Futakuchi jokes and slaps Aone’s back before focusing back on the court

You’re like two seconds away from stomping your feet in retaliation,,,,, it’s nearly eight o’clock!!!

So with the anger of a very tired student, you begin walking around and cleaning up the stray balls

You start doing anything to hurry up their practice so you can finally leave with your boyfriend in tow, Sakunami gives you a thankful smile and you feel your irritation slightly diminish

There is something about the first year that you have just come to adore,,,,, not all first years though....

“Yo!” Koganegawa calls and you glance at him, your eyes widen when you notice the volleyball fly past your face. It misses you by a hair

You feel your eye twitch but still, inhale a deep breath to calm yourself down before turning to Futakuchi

“Kenji, when are you guys going to finish practice?” You ask sweetly and the captain looks deep in thought before shrugging

“I don’t know like 40 mins” He responds and you can’t help but whimper and gently stomp your foot, your boyfriend notices your change in attitude and glares at his friend,,,,,, “Fine like 10 minutes” Futakuchi groans and you have to hold yourself back from kissing your boyfriend senseless

That’s how you find yourself in the storage closet minutes later, placing the volleyballs in their respective corners

Aone follows closely behind you, not that you notice, and you nearly scream when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. Your boyfriend curls over your form to rest his chin on your shoulder, gently kissing your skin apologetically….. so he did pick up on the reason for your attitude!

You reach up and ruffle his light hair, giggling when you feel his smile against your neck

“Sorry I was acting so annoyed, I’m just really tired,” You tell him and his arms tighten around you

“That’s okay” Aone mumbles and you nearly melt, it isn’t often that you hear from him but when you do….. it makes you turn into a flustered mess

“I just wanted to go home, daddy” You whisper back quietly,, Aone pulls you flush into his chest and you squeak at the contact

However, when you hear a ball dropping behind you,,,,,,, you glance back in shock at the horrified first year

Sakunami opens his mouth to speak but no words come out, he slowly backs out of the closet and nearly trips when he runs away

“DADDY?!” Koganegawa mimics and Futakuchi pushes him out of the storage closet doors

“What are you talking about-“ He starts but cuts himself off but an impressed gasp when he notices your shocked face,,,, Futakuchi only smiles at his friends back and pretends to wipe a proud tear from his face

“You didn’t hear what you think you did….” You try and cover up but Koganegawa only repeats the word,,,,,, Futakuchi simply shrugs innocently

“I’ll give you your time alone,” He quietly closes the closet door and you sigh at the darkness

“Let me turn on a light-“ You start but Aone pins you to the nearest wall, his hands are gentle on your hips and you gasp at the suddenness of it all

“My love,” He starts and your eyes widen at the heat pooling between your thighs “stay quiet”

“Daddy, please. Please, please, please.” You beg, already taken over by pleasure. Aone continues to slowly thrust into you in a way that leaves you breathless and crying for more. His low grunts ring throughout the room and you whimper when you notice how his biceps flex with every thrust. 

Each stroke of his hard cock is so powerful that it nearly sends you into the headboard, you rake your nails along his ribs and tighten around him at the way his abdomen ripples under your touch. “I need more, daddy, please give me more.” 

Aone reaches down and rubs away the tears that spilled onto your cheeks with his thumb, he softly cups your cheek and leans down to kiss you. The kiss is a simple peck and you whine when he pulls away, however, your whines don’t last for very long. Your boyfriend picks up the pace and begins to snap his hips into yours, your breasts bounce with every thrust and you can’t help the way your voice shakes.

“Yes, yes, thank you daddy-“ You praise and moans of appreciation leave your lips so frequently, he is ruining you. There is something about the way he moves his hips so skillfully, how he thrusts into you so deeply but still manages to brush against your g-spot every time. It runs you up the wall and you’re so far gone you can barely focus on anything but him. 

Aone moves to rest on his forearms, leaning directly on his left side while his right hand reaches down to move your clit back and forth between his large fingers. His movements are slow and cautious, in a very teasing pace to build up the pleasure. Aone always winds you up so tightly before letting you snap, he is so focused on you. You mewl and arch your back, pressing your chest directly in his own, as he begins to rub circles into your clit. You open your mouth to say something but no words come out, that look in your eyes nearly makes his hips stutter and your boyfriend leans down to whisper his command.

“Cum.”

Sawamura Daichi

Let me start off by saying that all the captains have daddy kinks, no I will not be taking criticism

There is not ONE captain who doesn’t exude daddy energy…. I would love to see someone try to prove me wrong~~~ </333

Anyway,,,, Daichi is not called the dad of the team because he is mature and shit,,,,, no that is not the reason

Daichi is the daddy™ of the team, get it right, do I really have to explain this one

Like yessss feed us bitches who have issues with their fathers, yessss where my daddy kink bitches at? We are eating good tonight! 

Daichi isn’t my favorite daddy captain, it will always be Ushijima Kita, but lawwwwd he does make me act up

I thought about it for a while,,,,, how Daichi would react to being called daddy in front of his team and honestly,,,,, I don’t really know…..

His team is such a mess that instead of being embarrassed or anything he would have to calm them down because they’re losing their minds like he does not have the time to be embarrassed ya know

Daichi is a soft daddy,,,,, like come on you have a crazy mf like Sugawara and you expect him not to be soft 

Tbh I hardcore ship Daichi with that cute girl from the girls’ volleyball team like ugh her crush on him is sooooo cute,,,, idk why that is relevant I just wanted to point out how adorable and sweet they are ….. power couple!!

“He has a daddy kink,” Kiyoko points at the picture with the blonde in a yellow uniform, the two of you are going through the Spring High volleyball magazine

“Didn’t he hit on you one time, lucky bitch” You gasp dramatically and Kiyoko rolls her eyes before flicking your forehead,,,, it is only the two of you in the gym before practice starts

Your once shy friend is laid back and comfortable, out of her shell since it is only the two of you

“Daddy kink” She points to middle blocker daddy!matsukawa from Seijoh and you give her an approving nod

“Daddy kink” You then point to the ace ugh iwaizumi </3 and Kiyoko draws a heart over his face

“Daddy kink, daddy kink, daddy kink,” She begins pointing to numerous members from Seijoh “they all have daddy kinks”

“Somebody is eager,” You playfully flirt and she presses her fingers to your cheek to push you away

“Omg do Karasuno, please I need to know your thoughts!” You beg and flip to your own school’s team, Kiyoko looks at you cautiously before taking a deep breath in

She refuses to speak but points at Asahi and you nod in agreement “I believe so as well” You whisper and she chokes on her laughter

Kiyoko glances at you experimentally and then points at Daichi,,,,, she stares at you and watches as you try to hide your expression

“Well… not that I would know-“ You lie and she pushes your shoulder,, you dramatically stand up in front of her with your hands on your hips “Yes. He does have a daddy kink” and then Kiyoko laughs loudly, covering her mouth as she falls over and wheezes

“Girl fuck you, you expect me to fuck Daichi and not call him daddy?” You ask and she tries to wave you off

“(Y/N), I’m not judging-“ She cries, clutching her sides as you continue to scream random nonsense

“No, I do call Daichi ‘daddy’ and what about it? Tell me you wouldn’t also!” Your voice echos throughout the empty hollow gym and, not to your knowledge, outside the doors as well

Kiyoko continues to laugh loudly, her angelic laughter is something you know the second years would kill to hear, however when she glances at the open doors she immediately closes back up again

She grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit back down beside her, trying to act like you two weren’t just discussing what you call Daichi late at night

Someone clears their throat from the doorway and you glance up to see your boyfriend along with the other third years and a few second years

“H-Hey” your voice cracks and Kiyoko covers her face with the magazine to hide her laughter, her shoulders shake violently beside you “what are you guys up to?” You glance around the gym and try to ignore the silence

“Not much~” Sugawara sings and walks up to you, he grabs the magazine and points at himself before whispering, “daddy” he solidifies the secret with a wink and you burst out laughing

Kiyoko stands up and tries to hide her face into the wall to hide the way she is laughing so hard

“I can’t be here,” You choke and get up, walking past your boyfriend who stares at you with an emotionless expression

You know he heard everything~~

“Daddy,” You giggle as you continue to roll your hips on Daichi’s lap, you let out an exaggerated moan when you feel his cock harden beneath you. Teasingly you bite your bottom lip and flirt with his eyes, continuing to grind against him. Daichi simply ignores you and you move your lips to his neck, trying to get some sort of reaction from him.

You lick at his skin and release a muffled moan when you bite down on his skin. You’re acting so cocky right now, so driven by lust that you’re acting so foolishly in front of your boyfriend.

“Come on, fuck me.” You push your chest into his, purposely rubbing your breasts against him. Daichi leans forward and ghosts his lips over yours, pulling away whenever you get too close.

“Why should I fuck you when you’ve been nothing but naughty?” He asks and you bring your finger up to tap your chin before you laugh softly again.

“Hmm because I asked, daddy.” You lean up on your knees and press your lips to his, Daichi swiftly smacks your ass. His hand stings your flesh and you whimper but can’t help the smile that grows on your face from getting what you want. “Mmm just like that~” You laugh breathily and Daichi positions you down onto his thigh, you mewl at the feeling of his strong muscle pressed underneath you. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, teasingly he squeezes the sides of your neck and watches the way your eyes cloud up at. “Yes, daddy.”

You try to kiss him once more but you’re unable to move due to the hold he has on you. Daichi continues to bring his hand down and spank you over and over, his slaps are harsh but you happily take them as you feel the liquid pooling between your legs.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Daichi asks and his eyes narrow warningly at you, you pretend you don’t notice. You know he is referring to earlier today.

“I’m sorry, daddy?” You apologize but you can’t help but wonder if you really are sorry or not, you give him another cheeky smile and Daichi slaps your ass once more while cutting off your flow of air.

“You love your punishments, don’t you baby girl?” He asks and you nod eagerly. “I know, god, I’m going to fuck you so good.”

~ Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Bonus Chapter: Colorado

Description: Takes place a year and a half after the first bonus chapter Back to the Beginning. The reader and Chris are married with life changes ahead. Original description for the series Conversations: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader, Scott Evans

Warning: Slightly NSFW (18+ only!), cursing, talk of pregnancy, fluff, Grumpy and Sassy shenanigans. 

A/N: Look who finally wrote a bonus chapter for Conversations! This girl, right here! Just a little timestamp in the reader and Chris’ life. And of course we needed some Scott time. You do not have to read the series to read this one shot, but it doesn’t hurt. Reblogs, comments, asks, what have you, I enjoy. 

Italics are internal thoughts

**

“Honestly, love, it’s fine,” you spoke softly into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice even. The last thing you want is for him to feel worse than he already does.

“I don’t know…” Chris trailed off. “Usually, when women say the word fine, they really don’t mean, fine.”

“Such a guy,” you chuckle. “I promise, Scott and I are going to have a terrific time. He’s taking care of me and promised not to get us into any trouble.” You raise an eyebrow at your travel companion seated next to you in the hired car.

Chris laughed and then followed it up with a groan. “That does not make me feel better. Put me on speaker.”

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked or rather demanded. “Okay, you’re on speaker.”

“Scott, you better take care of my wife. She’s precious cargo. And she’s carrying precious cargo. So, it’s extra precious cargo.”

You laughed; hand automatically going to your stomach. You were four months along and just starting to show. Family and close friends knew the two of you were expecting your first child, but the tabloids had not caught wind. The two of you had been going back and forth on whether to let People Magazine do an exclusive cover shoot when baby Evans is born. The money earned from People would be donated to charity which was the only reason you were even considering it. Plus, the whole you two breaking the news rather than the public finding out when you weren’t ready. Chris wanted to be the one to introduce his child to the world rather than having paparazzi sneaking into your backyard to get a picture. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“Would you relax! You’re going to give yourself a coronary and then I’d have to take care of both precious cargos and you don’t want that.” Scott shouted.

I really hope the driver doesn’t recognize Scott.

You smacked his arm, taking the call off speaker and bringing it back to your ear. “Chris, we are both going to be just fine. The plane ride was as relaxing as any plane ride can be and we are almost to the hotel. Scott and I are going to pamper ourselves and eat lots of great food. Work is important and I completely understand.”

Chris got called back to Los Angeles for reshoots that he couldn’t get out of. He planned a couple of mini babymoons and this was going to be the first one. Because of your advanced age – insert eyeroll – your doctor had mentioned it may not be safe to travel a lot once you were six months along. Chris took this seriously and booked a trip to Colorado at a gorgeous snowy mountain resort. There wouldn’t be any skiing, just loads of alone time and cuddling by the fireplace. When Chris had to cancel, Scott stepped in and volunteered the cuddles.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you. I’m just disappointed our romantic getaway is now being shared with Scott. My brother,” he said, voice in mock disgust.

“It’s fine. Scott and I haven’t hung out just the two of us in forever.” Scott reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Alright, sweetheart. Have a great time and rest please.”

“You know I will. I love you, babe. Say hi to Pedro for me,” you said, smile evident in your voice.

“I will. Love you too.”

**

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans?” The check in clerk, Barbara according to her nametag asked.

“That’s right,” Scott chimed in, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Newlyweds.”

You forced a smile and bit the inside of your cheek so that you wouldn’t laugh.

“Congratulations!” she replied with a sweet smile on her face.

She tapped her chin with her index finger before going back to her keyboard. “Let’s see what I can do here,” Barbara replied, typing away on the computer in front of her. “We have you in a one-bedroom suite with a mountain view, but,” she paused for dramatic effect. “I’m moving the two of you to one of our honeymoon suites.”

Scott gasped and slapped his hand on the countertop. “That’s mighty nice of you,” he spoke in a fake southern accent.

Where did that come from?

“Me and the misses really appreciate it. Don’t we honey?” he asked, turning his attention back to you.

“My pleasure,” Barbara said before you could reply, laying two room keycards on the counter next to Scott’s hand.

You smiled brightly but kept your mouth closed, so afraid of letting a chuckle out or saying the wrong thing. Scott steered you away from the counter, placing a hand on your bottom.

Once you turned the corner to the bank of elevators, you yanked Scott’s hand off your behind.

“Newlyweds. Really?”

“It got us an upgrade, didn’t it dear?”

**

The first night you were fine. Scott kept you occupied with stories of the single life and the wonders of online dating. You weren’t sure how he did it. Or rather, how he didn’t. After he told you about the guy who wore Barney the dinosaur underwear in a child’s size husky, you laughed until you cried.

“But did you still sleep with him?” you asked wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Sassy! Of course not. Barneeeeyyyy,” he drawled out.

Shrugging your shoulders, you got up to grab yourself a tissue from the bathroom. Coming back in the room, Scott was on his phone, fingers swiping feverously. You plopped down on the couch, tucking one leg under yourself.

“Here,” Scott said, handing you his phone. On screen was what you would refer to as tall, dark, and handsome.

“He’s hot,” you said, passing the phone back to him.

“Barney.”

“No,” you gasped.

Scott sighed before he started to laugh which got you going once again.

**

The second day you weren’t so fine. The two of you ordered breakfast in the suite. Pancakes dripping with syrup, crispy thick cut bacon, sausage links, a bowl of mixed fruit, and decaf coffee because Scott was in solidarity with you on your caffeine hiatus.

“Let’s go for a walk. There are tons of trails that the resort clears of snow. I need to work off this breakfast,” Scott said patting his stomach.

“You and me both,” you said, getting up to put on actual clothes instead of the pajamas you were still wearing.

“You are so lucky. Get to eat whatever you want and can just blame it on the baby.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned around to face him, lower lip slightly wobbling. Since the minute you found out you were pregnant, you found it really hard to control your emotions. You knew Scott didn’t mean anything by the commit, but your brain couldn’t help itself.

“I have to work really hard to be healthy. It’s bad enough the doctor said I’m old.” A sob escapes your lips. The tears already starting to roll down your cheeks. “I can’t have any caffeine, can’t eat a lot of my favorite foods, have to cut back on my salt. My salt! You know fries are my jam. Doesn’t help that my husband is built like a fucking Greek God. I’m not a model or an actress. I already feel like Dodger’s poo compared to him.”

Scott was out of his seat before you could utter another word. Strong arm pulling you to his chest while one hand cradled your head.

“Stop that. You are fucking beautiful and frankly my bonehead brother is lucky you agreed to marry him. Do you even know how many times I have had to leave the room in the last two months when he starts talking about you growing his child inside you and that it turns him on?” Scott pulls away slightly an emulates puking.

“Stop,” you said, burying your head in his neck.

“Why is my neck wet, Sassy.”

“It’s snot,” you said with a chuckle, wrapping your arm around him and holding on tight.

“You two are meant for each other.”

After a minute he pulled away and grasped both of your hands. “I’m with you in any way you need. If you need a healthy eating buddy, I am your man. If you want to say ‘to hell with it’, I’ll pick up McDonalds for the two of us every day if you like.”

You wiped at your eyes and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I love you Grumpy.”

“Love you too,” he replied and then clapped his hands together. “So, are we napping or are we walking?”

“Walking,” you stated, making your way into the bedroom to finally get changed.

That evening, the two of you got dressed up and went to your dinner reservation at the hotel where you were addressed as Mr. and Mrs. Evans. Scott stuck to sparkling water even though you encouraged him to get an alcoholic beverage.

“I don’t need to drink to be the life of the party. You know that.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d kept you entertained even without the raspberry liquor he force fed you years ago.

“I think we need a dance party when we get back to the room. For old time sakes. Before I am too big to shake it.”

“Done and done.”

The night ended in a bubble bath with both you and Scott in your swimsuits in an oversized soaking tub. Dozens of pictures were taken with many going to your husband. Rather than a text in return, he called.

“What is this? My brother movin’ in on my wife?”

“Babe! You know that it was me and Scott from the start,” you teased.

Chris chuckled. “You go away for a couple of days and it’s like that.”

“You know you are my one and only. Scott’s just making me smile.”

“I know baby. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you said.

**

The next day you were weepy. As much as you tried to put on a happy face, you were missing Chris. Pregnancy hormones or not, Chris had been working a lot and you had barely seen each other. This romantic babymoon wasn’t what you had in mind. Yes, spending it with your best friend was great, but it wasn’t the same.

The fire place was roaring while Magic Mike was queued up on the flat screen. You and Scott were dressed in jeans and cable knit sweaters with fuzzy socks on your feet. The snow was coming down heavy which was fine with you since neither of you had any place to be.

Pop in hand, though you wouldn’t let Scott hear you call soda that, diet for you, regular for him, the only thing you were needing was Dodger’s wet nose on your stomach and Chris.

“You know, Chris can do that,” you said pointing at the screen where one of the dancers picked up an audience member like she weighed a pound.

“No. Stop. Do not ruin this movie for me. I do not need to picture what you and my brother do.”

“Scott, you do know where babies come from, right?”

“Gross.”

You chuckled, standing up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. Why you brought up Chris when you already cried twice this morning was beyond you. After using the bathroom, you cleaned up your face and stepped back into the living room of your suite.

Scott draped himself over the couch, phone in hand, eyes shifting between the screen of his phone and the TV.

“I think I’m going to take another bath. Need to relax a little bit.”

Scott looked up. “Not too hot.”

“Yes, dad,” you said, offering him a mock salute.

You kept the bath water warm, but added extra oils and bubbles to make it feel more luxurious. The lights were off but a few candles were lit and your phone played 90s R&B. You snapped a pic of your soapy legs and sent it to Chris. Within a few minutes you had a reply.

Chris: My brother better not be in there

Y/N: I’m all alone

Chris: We can’t have that

You heard the door open and you scolded yourself for not locking the door. This text conversation seemed to be heading into rated R territory. You did not need Scott to witness that.

“Scott,” you drawled out. “I’m not wearing my suit tonight. Get out of here.”

When you heard the distinct sound of a belt buckle, you turned around. Rather than Scott dropping his pants, it was Chris.

You gasped, mouth hanging open.

“Room for one more sweetheart?”

You nodded your head unable to form words but those tears had no trouble forming.

Chris continued to undress while you tried your best to compose yourself. He joined you a moment later slipping in behind you.

“How? I thought you were working.”

“I put in some long hours so that I could get to you. I was miserable without you.”

“I know that feeling,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest. Chris lightly rubbing your stomach before sliding his hands up to your breasts, fingers tips rubbing against your nipples. “Babe, did you lock the door?” you asked.

“Don’t worry, I got Scott another room.”

You reached your left hand behind you grabbing on to Chris’ head bringing his mouth to yours. Chris kissed you deeply, your back automatically arching at the taste of his tongue.

“Was he mad?” you asked.

“I don’t even care,” he replied, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Neither do I.”

Tagging: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @xoxabs88xox @heartislubbingdubbing @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @ab-baybay @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @dangerouslovefanfic@kelbabyblue @sweetlittlegingy @dont-need-another-fandom @chrisevansforever @evansxxx @southerngracela @bitterstar88 @squirrelnotsam @kitkatd7 @marvelislove10 @the-doctors-fallen-angel @hista-girl @cocomel0613 @also-fangirlinsweden @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries​ @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7​ @lakamaa12​ @deidrashouseofpain @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @zestygingergirl @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 27: Untangling

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Relaxing(?) with Chen and taking some time for yourself... and things are uh... interesting, to say the least.

The choice is like 3-4 posts away- and I just wanted to give you a heads up that it won't be an overt "i choose so and so" choice. It will be a... seemingly monotonous choice that will lead you, dear reader, down a path to end up with one or the other! Do you guys want me to label which choice goes where? I mean it'll be obvious after the next parts are up which one is which SO I guess it doesn't matter?? Just figured I'd ask! Smooches.

Part 26 Part 28 Chapter Index

You left Kung Lao to rest and decided afterward to relax in the hot springs. Your body was sore, even more so after having gone toe to toe with a second monster. At least the second monster hadn’t tossed you around like a ragdoll the way the first one had. Still, you were sore. You made your way to the springs, rinsed off in the changing room, found a towel, and then walked inside. It was peaceful and there were only a handful of other people there.

You explored the pools a bit further back in hopes of finding some peace and quiet. Thankfully, your time in the springs in Huangshan hadn’t ruined this for you. They were so drastically different.

Peace and quiet were exactly what you’d been granted for a time.

Resting your head back against the natural stone formations, you let your sore body bask in the warmth of the water. It was enough to clear your thoughts of the word ‘monster’ being so frequent in your vocabulary and both the men that you’d left with fevers in their respective rooms.

It was no wonder that you drifted to sleep so quickly. Your sleep wasn’t restful though. You kept seeing flashes of the nightmare you’d had before you’d crawled into Liu’s bed that night. Then you saw the man with the horns, his white eyes staring into yours, and you felt the pain of his hand in your chest.

There was a splash next to you and you sat upright quickly, fists clenched at the ready for a fight. Chen was looking at you in surprise. You sighed with relief and relaxed. Chen and a few of the other women from the infirmary, as well as two of the cooks that you’d met a handful of times were getting into the water alongside you. You had tried to get to know the people you interacted with every day if not just a little bit. They worked hard and you wanted them to feel appreciated.

“It’s good to see you back, Y/N!” One of the younger girls chimed in and then went about chatting to the woman next to her animatedly. You greeted them politely and then rested your head back against the stone. Chen sat close to you. So much for peace. Even so, you smiled. Chen pestered you sure, but she was also a delight to talk to. Your smile faded quickly as you remembered the last conversation you had.

“How are you feeling?” Chen asked discreetly. You sat upright and covered your bruised neck as Chen made to poke at it. It was still sore. “I’m guessing that’s not from anything fun, huh?”

“Definitely not something fun.” You sunk down so that your neck was in the water, to hide, and Chen giggled. “I’m fine, by the way. Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well the past few nights.” You hadn’t, you supposed. There had been nightmares and then you and Kung Lao had gotten about four hours of sleep before you’d had to roll out of bed to go and meet Raiden. The women stared at you with rapt attention as if expecting an exciting reason for you to have not been sleeping.

“Because…?” Chen urged you onward hopefully and you splashed at them.

“I am so not in the mood, Chen.”

Chen and the other women laughed. “It’s all in good fun, Y/N. I know that things were crazy for you in Japan. I’ve heard you had quite the adventure.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! One of Raiden’s scribes overheard Kung Lao recounting your adventure with that tar thing.”

“Are you all gossips?”

“Look, it can be really boring here sometimes while those with the marks are off going on adventures and protecting the world. We’re here to protect you so I feel like in return we get to live vicariously through you. Is that so much to ask?” Chen had her chest puffed out proudly and you bowed your head and gestured toward her friends.

“My apologies, gossip away.”

“I was promised more information after you’d ditched Liu Kang. Define complicated please.”

The eyes of the other monks were on you, as curious but less forward than Chen. You bet it was so they could all update their little betting pool appropriately and you narrowed your eyes at them. “I will no gossip about myself. Especially not in front of everyone. No offense, guys.”

“Boo! You’re no fun, Y/N! There must be something steamy you’re not sharing with me. I swear that I interrupted something that morning with Liu Kang. I’ve thought about it on repeat since you left.” Chen poked your shoulder and the other women agreed with her, so you held your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment. Your skin was officially hotter than the spring water. They were whispering about what Chen had seen and it was much more dramatic than what had actually happened.

If they only knew that Chen hadn’t been completely wrong with her assumptions. Liu had asked you to stay in bed with him. Ugh, you wished that you had.

“Oh, stop picking on Y/N, guys. We have plenty to gossip about and she deserves to relax. She’s all bruised up, look at her.” One of the younger girls came to your defense and you were relieved.

They seemed eager to talk about whatever other gossip they’d picked up in the temple. You tuned most of it out as much as you could. You’d always struggled with gossip. Most of your life you’d been gossiped about, and it had never been in a good way. You didn’t like making other people feel like they were being talked about behind their back. You supposed it made you bottle everything inside which wasn’t exactly healthy either. No one was perfect. The kind of gossip that these monks were involved in didn’t bother you as much. It seemed harmless. No one’s feelings were getting hurt.

You listened to the hum of conversation. Apparently, one of the groups of monks who had gone into the closest town to pick up goods had gotten themselves into a bit of trouble with one of the women there. The story was ridiculous, and you wondered if this was how they talked about you when you weren’t around. It probably sounded just as absurd. It was funny. At least the gossip seemed distant from the truth. Unless this was the truth and, in that case, you felt terribly sorry for the woman and the monk who had gotten into trouble with her husband.

They were terrible monks.

The group drifted in the water until they were out of earshot, and you were grateful for the peace. You almost managed to fall asleep again but instead you felt Chen lifting your arm out of the water to check your pulse. You peeked one eye open and found Chen smiling at you.

“Still feeling okay? You’re pretty pale.”

“You can relax, Chen. You don’t always have to be on call. I’m fine. Really.”

“I work extra hard to make up for all the gossip.”

“I’m really okay. Just tired. I’m probably going to go back to my room and sleep soon. Less risk of drowning if I pass out there.” Only marginally less, you thought. You’d almost drowned yourself in ink the other night.

“Aww, not going to regale me with any stories of danger and romance?”

“I don’t know if I’m emotionally up to discussing the danger and romance, as you call it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s… a lot. It’s escalated in complication. I’m mixed up right now. I think my discussion needs to be more… mental.” You realized, suddenly, that Chen had weaseled you into talking about it.

“Oh? Going to make a decision soon?”

“You’re such a sneak. You know that, right?”

“Do go on.” Chen batted her eyelashes happily, resting her elbow against the stone.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s time to make a choice. I’ve got to… sort it out. I have to talk to them about it or just… make an honest move. It scared me for a while, but it needs to happen. No matter what happens next? I have to stop kissing both of them but there’s so much conflict in my heart…”

“Oh, hold on, excuse me? You’ve kissed them both? Y/N! You have been holding out on me!”

“Could you please lower your voice.” You sat up higher in alarm. “You’re completely missing the point that I was making.” You scooted further back from the other monks and Chen followed you. Your face was on fire again and the water was too hot.

“I need details immediately.” Chen’s eyes were filled with glee. “Which one of them kisses better? Are they good kisses? When did this happen? Has this happened more than once? Was there tongue? Did you do more than kissing?”

“Oh, for the love of all that you believe in, please stop!” You laughed and held your hands out in a panic to try and silence Chen. “I’m begging you to lower your voice.”

Chen cackled with laughter and pointed at your red face in amusement. You waited for Chen to get herself together. It took an awkwardly long amount of time. Chen cleared her throat and then straightened her posture as if she had to prepare herself to have a conversation. “Okay. Sorry. Yes, continue. That was delightful. What is it that has you so mixed up?” Besides the fact that they were both gorgeous? Besides the fact that their kisses and their touches literally took your breath away? That they both filled you with a deep and desperate longing that made you want to rip your insides out and offer them as sacrifice?

Liu Kang was the proverbial spark. You’d never once been drawn to another human being the way that you were drawn to him. It was like your bodies called to one another and as silly as you felt for thinking it, it was also true. Kung Lao, however, was your childhood love, but all grown up and while he was a complete mess, he was also romantic as hell. It wasn’t the same attraction you shared with Liu, but your attraction was different and just as wonderful.

“You’re just going to make fun of me.”

“You were quiet for a long time there. Getting lost in memories of kisses?”

“See?”

“Of course I’m going to make fun of you, Y/N, but I will also try to be a good friend.”

“You’re also going to just tell everyone else about it.”

“…true.”

“Ugh.”

“You could still tell me. I promise I’ll twist it enough that no one will quite believe me.”

“I’m… I just…” You sighed in frustration, mussed your hair, and then decided to just go for it. It would make Chen happy to get something of substance from you and maybe putting it out into the universe would offer you some reflection. Chen was hanging on your every word. “I have this crazy attraction to Liu. Plus, he’s so sweet and funny and smart. He holds me in such reverence and it’s going to sound so crazy cheesy but he’s made of fire in just about every way and… ugh he calls me beautiful and…” You whined and leaned your head back against the stone and felt your insides tighten up just at the thought. This hadn’t helped.

Chen was fanning herself.

“Hard to beat that. When was this steamy, fiery kiss…?”

“You are fishing for more information than I’m willing to give you.”

“You can’t blame me for trying. So, what’s the hang up with Lao then? I’ve seen you with Liu. You two are natural together.”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. I… ugh, I am bad at this. I hate this, Chen. I hate talking about it.”

“I know. It’s the worst. I wish you were drunk. You’d go on about it.”

“I kind of wish I was drunk too.”

“Raiden said no liquor for now.” Chen was disappointed. “Focus. Lao. Tell me.”

“We… it’s complicated, okay? We butt heads but he’s so damn nostalgic and surprisingly sweet when he’s not… trying to be. It’s hard to explain why I’m hung up on it because it’s… emotional? When he kissed me? The world disappeared. It makes me think that maybe if we hadn’t lost touch, if he hadn’t disappeared, then we probably would have been together from the beginning. It’s not any less magnetic, just different. Lao and I are very alike. Liu balances me out.” You sighed and briefly forgot that you were talking to the biggest gossip that you had ever met. “I care deeply for them both. I don’t want to hurt either of them, but I can’t take the emotional turmoil of bouncing back and forth between them anymore. And it’s not fair to any of us.”

“Wow, this is actually eating you up inside. I thought you were just being ridiculous to avoid telling me dirty details.” Chen seemed impressed and you turned your attention to her in surprise. Of course, it was eating you up inside! How could it not? “You’re really not going to just get them super drunk and then get spit roasted by both and have a wild night none of you will remember?”

You choked on your own spit and then coughed, leaning out of the water and onto the stone to escape the heat of the springs. Chen patted you on the back but laughed. “I have to look at and talk to them every day, Chen!”

“Have fun picturing that for the rest of your life.”

“Oh, I hate you right now.” You laughed, but the mental image was there, and Chen was right. It would live in your brain rent free for the rest of your life.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N. Just follow your heart and please get laid. Then get drunk and give me all those dirty details.”

“I’m so glad that I’m asking you for advice.” You managed to clear your windpipe, finally. “That was sarcasm. Sorry, choked up.” You shook the mental image away again. Your morning with Liu Kang hadn’t helped that mental image at all. “I’ll figure it out. I’m at a point where I’m ready to figure it out. But I think you’ve teased me enough. I’m going upstairs to get some rest because I am hotter than the springs now.”

“Good. Rest. You’re still pale when you’re not as red as I made you.”

“I plan too.”

“I hope you run into one of them and you can’t shake the mental image!” Chen called to you as you started out of the water, and you nearly slipped and fell back in.

“Goodbye, Chen.” You waved back to her and then bowed to the other monks before returning to the changing room, getting back into your clothes, and heading back to your room. Thankfully, you didn’t run into Liu Kang or Kung Lao. You hoped that they were still resting.

You threw yourself into bed and laid face down for a while, contemplating your options. It was kind of nice to think of how it might wind up. What were you complaining about? There were two incredibly attractive men chasing after your heart. Even so, it filled your stomach with anxiety and dread. You didn’t want to hurt either of them. You wished there were a reality where you could have them both but knew that would end messy too.

After changing into a nightshirt, you went to bed. You really were exhausted but your sleep wasn’t restful. You tossed and turned throughout the night, plagued with nightmares. When you opened your eyes, there was a silhouette of a horned man standing at the side of your bed. You struggled to move, to blink, but you were paralyzed by fear. Breathing was difficult and he leaned over you and reached for your throat. His face was shadow with the exception of a wicked white smile. You felt like he held you down, pinned to your bed, pushing you further into it.

Your body ached.

You were seeing spots, unable to breathe. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t fight it. It was like sleep paralysis. You’d read about it, but it also felt real. He was closer to you, inches from your face, and his clawed hand rested over your cheek.

Then suddenly you were free of the grip that held you prisoner, that had trapped you in bed. You were alone and gasped for struggled breaths. Panicked, you crawled out of bed, collapsing onto the floor and bursting into sobs. Ink spilled from your hands, staining the floor. You struggled to stop shaking and push yourself up, catching your breath.

Then you froze in horror.

Strands of ink were spread across your room from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, creating an elaborate and dangerous web.

What the actual hell?

What had you done?

How had you done it?

Reaching out with a shaky hand, you brushed your fingers over the thick web of ink and pulled your hand back immediately. It had been solid and sharp, slicing the tip of your finger.

You trembled with fear and leaned as far against the bed as you could press your body. You tried to get up, to will yourself to move, but instead it felt like your lungs were being squeezed by invisible hands. Your fingers were curling up and you pulled them close to your chest. Closing your eyes, you tried to take deep breaths to calm down but you could barely exhale.

You’d filled your room with ink in your sleep.

That had to have been a vision, but it hadn’t been the future or the past. It had been of that thing in your room with you, hovering over you. What, was this some Catholic-style possession? Maybe finding the artifacts had been a mistake.

You laid on the floor, stretching out into child’s pose to try and help yourself calm down, to breathe. This moment mattered. Not the nightmare. Not the vision. Not the fear.

Just the moment.

You would be okay.

After an agonizingly long time, you felt your heart finally slowing down. Your fingers uncurled and you were able to sit upright. Your head was spinning but you could at least think without the screaming adrenaline of panic.

You couldn’t get out of your room with the ink like this.

The strands were too closely knit together. Pushing your hair back, still shaking, you held it away from your face and tried to think. You’d trapped yourself in the room. But you’d made the ink so maybe you could unmake it too. Holding your palm close to the nearest strand of ink, you closed your eyes and focused. It wouldn’t move and your whole body was shaking.

Your brain was buzzing with panic still. You tried again and were thrown back against the bed, but the ink was gone in a blink. Your hands were aching like you’d been punched right in the palms. They were dark and bruised. But you’d done it. The ink was gone.

Wrapping your arms around your knees, you pressed yourself against the bed.

You had to get a hold of yourself.

What the fuck had just happened?

There was a knock at your door, and you whined, buried your face against your knees, and then took a deep breath. You felt like you could vomit but you managed to get yourself up, vomit free, and made your way to the door. Shaky on your feet, you recognized the monk on the other side. He kept guard outside of Raiden’s chambers. He bowed to you politely as the monks often did.

“Lord Raiden requests your presence.”

“I-I’ll be there in a few… few minutes. I just… I need to get dressed.” You tried not to sound like you had been hysterically sobbing only a few minutes ago. The monk didn’t seem to notice. He bowed and walked away to deliver your message. You leaned against the door after he’d left, taking shaky breaths. You had to calm down.

Liu Kang would have had you meditate so you decided to do just that. You sat on your prayer mat and closed your eyes. Deep breaths. Grounding exercises. You could hear his comforting voice in your head, guiding you along.

In truth, you just wanted to be held.

[bestiesenpai]

twitch streamer geto suguru

This is a thought that doesn’t just live rent free in my head oh no this thought is the landlord of my mind. Go read the shitposts I made about this, but technically you don’t need to for context. Femme pronouns

Looking at himself in the mirror, Suguru smiled widely. His costume was perfect for today's stream. He knew his fans would love it, they voted for his next one and were practically frothing at the mouth when he announced he’d be doing it.

“Babe, come in!” He called for you. You’d left the bathroom a few minutes ago and hadn’t seen him in the full outfit.

“Coming!” Your footsteps padded on the carpet and then you appeared in the doorway. “Looking good, Dabi.” You grinned, taking note of his lack of shirt and the pants hanging low on his hips. The only thing keeping him from looking like an off duty stripper was the jacket concealing just enough to not be too too scandalous.

“Oh Toga, you’re too kind.” He chuckled, looking at his makeup in the mirror. “You really outdid yourself with the makeup, ya know.”

“Thanks.” Twirling the skirt you had on between your fingers, you looked at yourself in the mirror. “I think I look pretty cute.”

“The cutest.” Giving your butt a squeeze, Suguru slipped past you. “I’m going to start the stream now.”

“Okay!” Giving him a wave, you went to another room to occupy yourself for however many hours he’d be busy today. You could hear the music he played at the beginning of his stream start to play, and you put on headphones.

“Hello everyone, it’s your favorite sexy cosplayer!” Suguru said into his microphone, smiling at all the comments that flooded in, all in shock of how good his makeup and outfit looked. “You like the get up?”

Hundreds and hundreds of comments flooded in all saying yes. Chuckling, he stood up and showed off his outfit to the camera. Letting his coat flutter open, he laughed at the many all caps messages saying how hot he was.

“Should I say something Dabi would say?” Tapping his chin, Suguru hummed for a bit. “If you’re trash, at least be kindling for my flames. How’s that?” A couple donations came in, all praising him for his good imitation.

Sitting back down, he set up the game he was going to play for the first portion of the stream: cooking mama. Reading out a few messages and thanking everyone over and over again, he started up the game.

In the room you were in, you could hear frantic laughter and crazed shouts from Suguru. He always got super into whatever game he was playing, playing up his reactions perfectly for the watchers. He often had to drink a warm cup of tea after a stream because he’d been shouting and laughing so much.

After an hour, you got a text from him, asking to bring him a snack. You hadn’t changed out of the outfit, promising to take pictures for his Instagram once the stream was over. Quickly fixing him a plate, you knocked on the door.

“Sugu, I’m here.” You tried not to speak too loudly in case he was talking.

“Oh everyone, my Uber eats is here, one second. I know, I know, I’m eating so early into the stream!” Chuckling, Suguru opened the door and smiled at you. “Hey delivery girl, you’re pretty cute.”

“Shut up.” You giggled, trying to push the plate into his hand.

“You know, you’re so cute my stream should see you!” He shouted, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the room.

“Sugu!” You shouted, face flushing at suddenly being on camera.

“Sugu? I don’t know who that is, Toga.” Holding you more securely around your waist, Suguru tossed the plate on his desk and positioned you in front of the camera. “Look everyone, Toga joined me!”

“H-hi.” No matter how many times he made you appear on camera you were still a little shy. Gripping the edges of the beige cardigan you had on, you waved shyly at the camera. You could see the comments flooding by, ‘so cute!’ ‘couple goals!’ ‘I’m so jealous!’.

“Some of you were wondering why we aren’t wearing wigs too and to be honest this makeup took far too long to even fuck with a wig.” Suguru laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But I should tie it up, huh? It’s getting pretty hot.”

“I’ll help.” You always had a scrunchie on you for Suguru. He refused to use normal hair ties, citing how bad they were for your hair.

“Oh, it’s everyone’s favorite part.” He teased. Dramatically fluttering his coat to the side, Suguru dropped to his knees in front of you despite your flustered requests to just bend his head forward.

“You know you don’t have to do all this.” You muttered, ignoring all the horny comments in his chat. Suguru really knew how to play up his audience and make everything a clippable moment. He didn’t have thousands of subscribers for no reason.

“But Toga, I like it when you do it like this.” He whined loudly, smirking up at you and grabbing the edges of your cardigan. Laughing at the embarrassed noise you let out, he closed his eyes as you gathered his hair into a bun on his head.

“There you go.” Patting his shoulder, you helped him up. Trying to take a step back, Suguru caught you by the arm.

“C’mon, at least pose a little with me?”

“But I thought we were just going to do it for Instagram?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Just a little bit, promise.”

“Alright.” Moving into a better position, you threw your hands up and made the same gestures as the real Toga Himiko, cupping your cheeks and smiling up at Suguru just like you’d practiced. “Is this good?”

“Look at the donations baby, you’re doing great.” Giving you a quick peck on the forehead, Suguru thanked all the people donating. Getting into his position, he did a few poses as well. Only doing a few, he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you over to his desk, making you sit on his lap as he sat on the chair.

“There’s a few new subs, (Y/N), you should thank them.” Tapping the microphone softly, Suguru gestured for you to lean forward. Ignoring the chat all furiously typing that they wanted to sit on Sugurus lap, you looked at yourself on the monitor.

“Thank you everyone who donated and subscribed! You’re all so sweet and Suguru and I really appreciate and love every single one of you!” You had learned that script early on in Sugurus streaming career. It was heartfelt and true, and better yet you never stuttered over it.

Patting you on the back, Suguru turned off cooking mama and put on some background music.

“Toga, would you like to play a game?” He asked, making his voice drop a little.

“What is it?”

“I think you’ll like this game.” He smirked wickedly, his eyes darting to the camera and giving it a wink.

“Why’d you wink?”

“No reason!” Rocking back and forth, Suguru chuckled to himself. “Will you go grab the VR? It’s in the drawer over there.”

“Sugu, please!” You knew exactly what he was going to have you do and it was already making your heart race. You were still close to the microphone, and everyone could hear your pitiful whine.

“Hey don’t make those sounds, people have to pay extra for that.” Covering the microphone with his hand, Suguru pat you on the legs. “It’ll be a short one this time.”

“You say that all the time!” Throwing your head back, you got up from his lap and grabbed the VR headset, setting it up quickly.

“Now chat, you guys have been suggesting this game nonstop for (Y/N) to play and one of the mods sent me a copy, so now we’re going to play!” Suguru went on to show the game on screen, a horror game that had been trending recently. He’d brought it up to you in passing, asking what you thought of it and if you’d ever play it with him off stream.

“I hate it here!” You groaned, flipping off the camera as it was angled to capture your whole body. Neither the chat nor Suguru could hold back their laughs, and many donations were ringing in.

“Here, let me help.” Suguru stood and adjusted the headset on your face, putting the controllers firmly in your hands. Patting you on the head, he sent a thumbs up to the screen. “Let’s go everyone! And no one worry, (Y/N) has safety shorts on under the skirt, so if she kicks her leg like last time no perverts will see her bits.”

“That’s right!” You nodded in what you hoped was the direction of the monitor. You weren’t facing it before Suguru had put the headset on, so you had no idea if you were looking in the right direction.

“Starting now.” He announced, and the game started up on your screen. It was fine enough, chilling music playing in your ears at a low volume. “How’s the sound, (Y/N)?”

“It’s fine.” Nodding, you started a new game. “The graphics are really good on this so far!”

“That’s great.” Adjusting the microphone, Suguru could barely hide his smile. As the game started, you felt shivers roll down your spine. Little things slammed in your ears and your head whipped side to side.

“So this is one of those mission games? I-I can do it, no problem!” You breathed, jolting right after as something passed the corner of your vision.

“That’s the spirit!” Suguru clapped for you. “Chat believes in you as well.”

There were a few small jump scares, spiders and things chasing you that made you shout. As the game progressed, you were doing better than anyone thought you would.

“S-sugu.” You whimpered at a checkpoint, adjusting the controllers in your sweaty hands.

“Hm?”

“T-there’s a monster.” Pointing in front of you, you could see the thing staring at you from the end of a long, dark hallway.

“Aw, there is?” Suguru teased, looking at the screen. “We see it now.”

“Oh shit, it’s coming toward me.” Taking a small step back, you quickly ran your character away from it. Chase music sounded for a bit and your skin prickled at almost getting caught.

“Good job, you got away!”

“Mhmm.” Taking a deep breath, you continued on with the game, shouting a few more times at jump scares. Suguru hadn’t spoken in a while, just letting you play the game alone. The silence from him combined with the music from the game set you more on edge, and when a monster appeared, you groaned.

“Shit, shit- Sugu! A monster is chasing me!” This one was faster and much more terrifying than the previous one. Suguru didn’t offer any words of comfort and you almost yelled at him as you were running away. “Sugu, help, help, it’s gonna- ahhhh!”

“Ah!” Suguru and you screamed at the exact same time, but for different reasons. As soon as the monster grabbed you and screamed in your ears, jump scaring you on the screen, Suguru grabbed your sides in real life, making it feel even realer.

“No!” Screaming wildly, you leapt from his hold and fell onto the floor. Scrambling to take the headset off, your breathing was all over the place. “Sugu!” You nearly cried, heart beating far too hard. Suguru was bent over, laughing so hard he was silent.

“S-so-sorry!” He choked out, slapping his knee as he tried to regain his composure.

“You’re the worst!” Silly little tears misted your lashes and you put the headset on the table behind you and crossed your arms childishly. You were shaking from how much you’d been scared, and you could see some of the messages in chat laughing at you, telling everyone they’d clipped the moment to be shared later.

“C’mere.” Tugging on the back of your cardigan, Suguru cooed at you. “Toga, don’t be pouty.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Throwing your head back, you let Suguru wrap you in a hug but you didn’t uncross your arms. “Why do I have to play the scary games?”

“Because your reactions are better than mine. I don’t get scared like that.” Putting his head on your chin, he rocked you back and forth. “You did really good too, I bet this might get us a sponsor.”

Flicking him in the forehead, you tried to worm out of his hold but he kept a tight grip on you. You fought the urge to whine, knowing he’d just use it to his advantage.

“Let’s sit down.”

“No.” You tried to keep your feet firmly planted on the floor but Suguru wasn’t having any of it.

“Toga’s being stubborn!” He shouted to the chat. Bending his knees, Suguru dropped his arms to just under your butt and lifted you up.

“Dabi, put me down!” Squirming around was no use, but you knew this kind of reaction was great for the stream. Hitting him lightly on the back, you huffed when you were set down again and pulled into Sugurus lap.

“Look, you got chat all excited with your little act.” Pinching your cheek, Suguru smirked at you. “Hey (Y/N).”

“What?”

“Are you doing anything after the stream?” Grabbing your chin, he pushed your lips together, making you pucker a little. Staring at you for a beat, he let you go and laughed, sticking his tongue out at the camera. “I know you all are so jealous.”

“You shouldn’t be.” You quipped, grinning and laughing when he pinched your sides.

“Oh, they shouldn’t be? What about now?” Clearing his throat, Suguru put his mouth against his microphone and breathed lowly. “Thank you to all the bastards watching my stream, you’re so special to me. And a big thank you to my most recent sub, glitterkitty303, you’re the best baby.” His voice had dropped impossibly low, a voice he saved to fluster the hell out of you and get a few more bigger donations.

Breaking out into a smirk, he watched the chat roll by impossibly fast, all of the comments going insane, asking Suguru to say their username next and begging with donations for him to say something, anything, in that voice.

“How was that?” He asked you, looking at your flustered face on the screen. “How cute, you’re hiding your face.”

“Play the next game already.” Pushing his shoulder, you squeaked when he cupped the back of your head and leaned toward your ear.

“Chat, I want you to guess what I’m saying to (Y/N).” Pressing his lips against your ear, Suguru couldn’t hold back a little laugh at some of the messages coming in. “After this stream, let’s order pizza.” He whispered quietly, pulling back and patting your head. “Alright?”

“Alright.” You whispered, rolling your eyes at how embarrassed you still were.

“Good girl.” Rubbing your back, Suguru motioned off screen to another chair he had. “If you want, you can play the next game with me, we’re playing some Mario games next.”

After setting up for the next game and taking a short bathroom break, you were ready. The first game was mario kart, one you loved to play with Suguru because it meant nothing scary was going to happen.

“Ah shit, (Y/N) beat me again!” After doing four races and losing horribly on purpose, Suguru shook his head. “Alright guys, that’s it, my career is over. (Y/N) is taking over the channel!”

“Yay me.” You laughed, waving at the camera. “Hi guys, I don’t stream, so consider this channel dead.”

“Oof, so harsh.” Suguru gripped his chest, leaning back dramatically in agony.

After a few more rounds of mario kart and a couple other Nintendo games, you were finally allowed to leave with a cute wave to the camera and another round of thanking everyone. You were sweating bullets from the lights pointed at you and it felt good to finally be out of the room.

A few hours later, Suguru finished his stream and came to find you. He was obviously tired, stating that the two of you would just have to take the pictures before the next stream tomorrow. He often wore his costumes for at least a week, milking the reactions for all that he could.

“I never thought I’d see Dabi eating a pizza so savagely.” You chuckled. Suguru had demanded to order pizza before he washed off the makeup, he was too hungry to wait, and as soon as it had arrived he grabbed one of the boxes for himself and sat himself on the couch.

“Villainy is hungry work.” He grunted before shoving nearly a whole piece in his mouth. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a quick photo of him for your personal records and maybe a behind the scenes post for his Instagram.

You were still in your costume as well, prepared to take photos but now too lazy to change until after you ate. Suguru kept looking at you and grinning, taking quick glances at your legs before looking away.

“Why do you keep looking at me?”

“You’re just so cute dressed as Toga! And a couple people donated and asked if we would start an only fans. Seems I’m not the only one who likes the costume.”

“We are not making an only fans!” You laughed, shaking your head vehemently.

“Alright but can we take a few pictures not for Instagram?” He asked, sending you a wink. “I keep getting hard thinking about it.” He was completely serious but seeing your face contort in your embarrassment made him laugh.

“Maybe I should make an only fans and start charging you for pictures.” You teased back, nudging his shoulder. Suguru sneaked a kiss on your cheek and squeezed your thigh.

“You already know where my bank card is, go right ahead.” Keeping himself close to you, Suguru squeezed your thigh again. “Do you need a photographer, ‘cause I might know a guy…”

[13uswntimagines]

Instincts and Media Day: What a Terrible Combination (Alpha Kelley x Omega!Reader)

Request: R goes into heat and Kelley has to contain herself so she doesn’t pounce on R, but also so she doesn’t fight another alpha if they come near her girl. So, throughout it all, she becomes more possessive and protective, especially since they are having a busy media day where R has to be around other alphas for shoots and videos.

Authors note: Hey dudes, I hope you Enjoy! Hit me up with Comments, Questions or Requests! 

You groaned lightly, burying your face as far into your alpha’s neck as you could get, taking in her soothing scent. Her strong arms were wrapped around you, holding you tightly, trying to alleviate some of the pre-heat aches you were experiencing. You whimpered as another round of cramping hit your lower belly, soothed slightly by Kelley’s hands rubbing circles into your back. 

“I know baby, I know, just a few hours,” She murmured into your hair, kissing your ear and pulling you ever closer (which was difficult because you had already taken up residence on her lap). She would much rather be cuddled up in bed with you, but you had media obligations before the Olympics that you couldn’t get out of. 

You whined into her neck, pawing at her shirt collar in an attempt to expose more skin for you to nuzzle into. It wasn’t a behavior that she typically allowed, but these were special circumstances. You were in pre-heat and surrounded by about a million alphas who could no doubt smell your pheromones despite the heavy blockers the medical staff had given you.

“She ok Kell,” Alex asked, rubbing your back as she approached the two of you, careful not to touch any skin that wasn’t covered by your t-shirt. You weren’t usually this clingy, always trying to break out of the mold of what society thought omegas should be. You must be feeling it if you were this pliant, but then again, there were no cameras in you yet. It was kinda nice to see you and Kelley this soft. 

“She’s in pre-heat and the blockers are giving her cramps,” Kelley replied softly, her fingers coming up to rub the back of your neck, just barely brushing your mating mark. Reassuring you that she was there, and scent marking you so everyone else knew that you were hers. You sighed into her, kissing the skin under her chin. 

“Poor baby,” Alex mumbled with sympathy, dramatically pouting her lip. 

“Mm not a baby,” You huffed into Kelley’s neck, peeking out just enough to stick your tongue out at the forward, before returning to your favorite hiding spot. 

“I know baby girl, Alex is just messing with you,” Kelley murmured, shooting a glare towards Alex and scratching your scalp. Alex quirked her eyebrows up at the alpha. Had it been any other day, you probably would have chased her down and tackled her. It was troublesome to see you so subdued. 

“why can Alex mess with short stuff in pre-heat but I can’t?” Tobin smirked towards Kelley and wrapped her arms around her omega. Alex leaned back into her arms. 

“That sounds like an alpha problem to me,” Kelley growled at Tobin in warning. She was grateful that the alpha hadn’t tried to get closer to her mate, but the teasing was not appreciated. Not with so many other alphas around. 

“Speaking of alpha problems Worms has got one,” Alex laughed, gesturing towards the very obvious bump in Kelley’s shorts, despite her compression underwear. It was another unfortunate side effect of your pre-heat pheromones. A low growl ripped from your throat. Yes, it was just Alex, but all the hormones rushing through your veins were making you a bit territorial. Kelley’s growl joined your own as she pulled you tighter to her, unhappy with the feelings flittering through your bond. 

“Leave her alone hot stuff,” Tobin said, eyeing the two of you cautiously. Gently pulling Alex back two steps, hoping that the space between the four of you would calm the situation down a little bit. You and Alex were best friends and shared a very particular omega bond, but heat made everyone a little anxious. 

“They want Baby bear for the photos first,” Christen hummed, joining her two mates and watching the way you cuddled further into Kelley with worry. 

Kelley sent her fellow Stanford alpha a stiff nod and began to try and untangle you from her. “Let’s go baby girl,” She murmured softly, rubbing your back as she coaxed you out of her neck. 

“Don’t wanna, you’re warm, and you smell so good,” You whined, finally giving in to the insistent hands, shooting your alpha an unamused glare. 

She leaned in and ran her nose over your scent gland, before placing a kiss on your mating mark. This was no easier for you than it was for her. She wasn’t usually this possessive, but with the scents you were releasing, she just couldn’t seem to help herself. 

“I’ll be there the whole time,” she reassured gently against your skin, standing the two of you up. It would be alright, at least you hoped so.

******

You and Kelley trudged over to the first room, her hand placed firmly on your back to guide you. You didn’t usually like your alpha acting so… alpha? But your inner omega was purring at the action. 

Kelley glared at the woman who handed you your kit, unhappy with the number of dominant pheromones she was releasing. You rolled your eyes slightly, changing into the required clothing without incident, and cuddling back up to Kelley the second you could. 

The photographer watched you with furrowed brows, keeping a large distance between the two of you, more for you alpha than for you. Kelley sent him a grateful smile. 

“Alright Y/n, if you would stand right there please,” He directed softly, gesturing towards a spot marked with an x in front of the camera. You nodded hesitantly, pushing off your alpha (who may or may not have smacked your butt) and heading towards the marked spot. You warningly eyed the other man standing behind said spot, unsure of why he was positioned like that. 

You allowed the beta woman with the photographer to position you, and show you the requested pose, all well laughing lightly at the silly faces Kelley was making at you. 

That was until the man behind the mark laid down, enclosing your feet with his legs. The smile melted from your face, and a rush of nervous scents rolling off of you in waves. Kelley’s response was swift, striding up to the alpha photographer and tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Why is there a guy laying between her legs?” She hissed at the man. 

“He’s just the mister,” the photographer shrugged, hoping that nonchalance would help to show her that this wasn’t a big deal.

“I don’t like the view he has,” 

“Damn you smell good,” The man on the floor mumbled, painfully unaware that this was not the right thing to say. 

“Kell,” Your voice neared panic, your eyes were wide and a bright blush tinted your cheeks. It was one thing for Kelley to tell you how good you smelled and another for a random person to do so. You weren’t naive and you hated the view some people had of omega, thinking that a pass like that was acceptable. 

“Mario will behave himself right?” The photographer glared at the young man, shaking his head, 

Kelley growled back low and dangerous, like a warning siren. Any more unprofessionalism from the man would result in some extreme consequences. It wasn’t that she didn’t think you could handle yourself, but her instincts demanded that she protect you, that she tell others that you were hers. 

The man on the floor shrunk, holding up his spray bottle like a shield and praying that his mistake hadn’t just set the delicate situation over the edge. He hadn’t meant to say it, and he knew you were the other alphas, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. 

“Kelley, just a few shots,” the photographer pleaded, and you sent him a very slight nod. Kelley met your eyes and nodded in return. 

“Fine…” she huffed, and the photographer’s shoulders relaxed. If you could handle it, so could she. “but I don’t like this,” she finished softly, glaring at the floor. You sighed in support of her sentiment before returning your attention to the photographer. The quicker you started, the quicker you would be finished. 

*****

Kelley’s protective instincts were being pushed to the limit. You had been shuffled around from interview to interview, with each respective reporter asking more invasive questions than the last. You were becoming increasingly uncomfortable and your heat symptoms were continuing to become more prominent. 

You only had a few stops left before you could go back to your hotel room and hopefully ride out the rest of your heat in peace before the opening game of the Olympics. 

“If you’ll step this way Ms. Y/l/n, I just have a few questions for you,” the sleezy alpha interviewer gestured towards a spot next to him in front of the camera. You kissed Kelley’s cheek before taking the requested spot. You inner omega crying out for the alpha, and growling at the distance between the two of you. 

The man shot a look at your alpha before queuing the camera. The conversation started normally, asking questions about how you felt being a left side forward and the connections in the midfield, but then everything seemed to shift. 

“So what’s it like being an omega on the national team,” He asked, stepping a little bit closer to you. 

You took a small step back, smiling into the camera. “It’s great, we are all treated as equals and the girls are amazing!”. You gestured wildly as you spoke, always happy to highlight the team's emphasis on equality and not allowing an individual's bearing to impact the team's view of them. 

Yes, the team was a little protective of the omegas, but then again half of the countries you faced were not as progressive in their views of omega roles as the US. They always made sure they weren’t overstepping. They never wanted you to feel like you were lesser or subservient to the alphas on the team, and they would kill anyone who made you feel that way. 

The reporter frowned at your answer, gritting his teeth just a little. Why did you little omegas have to be so difficult?

“That’s not what I meant.” The reporter growled lowly, taking another step closer to you, “Do you ever use the other alphas attraction to you to your advantage,” He tilted his head so your faces were mere inches apart.

“There’s only one alpha I care about so no…” You mumbled, leaning away from the man and trying to remain calm. Your eyes met your alpha’s, and she tilted her head slightly. She didn’t like where this was going. 

“But couldn’t your beauty be helpful on the field,” He pressed, again trying to close the distance. You put your hands up to stop him. 

“I think she tries to rely more on her skills,” Kelley interjected, her lips a thin line in disapproval, and her attempt to not strangle this man. 

“Of course, my bad,” His eyes snapped to hers and he brought his hands up in innocence, but didn’t move away from you. You sent Kelley help me eyes, releasing a light wave of distressed signals. He leaned closer to you, either oblivious or uncaring towards your uncomfortableness. 

“Can you take a step back please?” Kelley growled, releasing her own dominant scent. The man’s nose twitched as he turned to face her, his hand grabbing your shoulder to prevent you from escaping. Tobin shot you a concerned look, stepping towards the situation. 

“No need to get overprotective,” He smirked as though he was the one in control of this situation, the cockyness oozing off of him in waves. 

Kelley bearing her teeth was the only warning you and the teammates who were watching you had before she lunged at the man, entirely fed up with his caviler attitude towards you. 

“Whoa Kelley, relax,” Tobin yelled, wrapping an arm around the smaller alpha’s waist, pulling her away from the situation. The reporter dropped your arm in shock. The USWNT was known for its impeccable control. It was incredibly rare for an alpha to lose it, but Kelley had been pushed too far. 

“You do not disrespect her!” She roared, fighting Tobin, Christen, and JJ’s attempts to restrain her. Alex, Sam, and Mal all moved to stand between you and the sleezy reporter, hoping that a wall of teammates would help to calm Kelley down. 

“Kelley, chill,” Christen grunted when an elbow came very close to her face. Nothing would calm her down right now besides you. 

“Kel,” You said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, and the alpha froze. She turned her head towards you, her inner alpha screaming for her to go to you, so she did. The team let her pass and she wrapped you up in her arms, your face buried into her neck, soothing your frayed nerves and appeasing your instincts. 

“I don't like this,” she hissed into your ear, her nose pressing sinfully against your scent gland, marking you as her own. You whined pitifully into her neck, a sweat breaking out across your forehead and a low ake settling in your lower belly. 

The team formed a protective cocoon around the two of you (leaving a wide radius as to not trigger Kelley’s instincts further) to give you some privacy from all of the cameras. Vlatko quickly made his way towards the hoard of players, deciding that having you and Kelley present was not a priority at the minute. He could smell the heat pheromones rolling off of you, a distinct shift from the pre-heat symptoms you were experiencing before. Keeping you here would just be begging for trouble, A fact he wasn’t naïve to. 

“Take her back to the hotel, and… take care of her,” He ordered carefully from a respectable distance. The team was a family (a very protective family) and he was the newcomer. Getting too close to the team (who were already in protective mode) was a very bad idea. 

Kelley glanced up from your neck to salute him “You got it, boss,” before picking you up bridal style. You were in no condition to walk, and your omega preened under the alphas display of strength. You purred into her chest, nuzzling the skin exposed by her neckline. 

“What about my interview,” the reporter huffed, receiving several glares from Kelley and the rest of the alphas on the team. How fucking dare he. While they couldn’t deny him outright, they always had a special punishment for disrespectful assholes. 

“I’ll finish it, you’ve perved on enough omegas today,” Tobin smirked evilly in his direction, too many teeth showing in her smile to be kind. Christen sent a nod in your direction as if to say that the team would deal with the situation so Kelley could attend to you. She sent the forward a grateful smile before leaning down to kiss your head. 

“Let’s go my darling,” she murmured, walking towards the door, all of her alpha bravado gone now that you were safe in her arms. Now that she could devote her full attention to making you feel good and loved instead of fending off other alphas. Maybe she had lost her impeccable control, but it was worth it if it kept you safe. 

[suntrastar]

sink or swim

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you first meet ransom when meg drags you along to a party. everything somehow spirals from there.

warnings: swearing, smut (but like very vague smut, nothing super explicit), ransom’s general assholery

word count: 9.3k

author’s note: i hate ransom drysdale! he is a shit character! if he existed irl i would whoop his ass with NO hesitation. but i still wrote this fic because ... a bitch gets thirsty okay?? okay. and ik this is very long BUT a lot of it is dialogue so it should flow pretty fast!!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!! ily now enjoy!!! you can also read this on ao3 :)

There’s something fun about being somewhere where no one wants you, and then something shameful. 

Meg isn’t touching you, but as she drags you around her famous grandfather’s mansion in search of people to bother, it feels like she has you on an invisible leash, fastened tight over your neck. To keep you tethered to her- like a fucking dog. 

The leash hurts like it is not made of plastic or metal but instead two hands squeezing tight, wringing you dry, choking you harder and harder and bruising you purple with no remorse.

Now, she’s debating political theory with her douchebag fuck of an uncle, who almost hits you once- almost hits you twice with his cane while waving it around as he quotes Fox News-

Their voices rise. You’re the only one that flinches.

Standing awkwardly on the edge, you wonder why you are the only guest at this terrible party that looks so lost. Meg gives you a covert this-is-total-bullshit glance, and a small, pained, rehearsed smile, both of which you have to return- that’s the real reason you’re here, after all- and her uncle rants on, wholly oblivious.

You look past them both, to where one man stands by himself.

He’s leaning against the far wall, and while Meg retaliates with some of her favorite words, including audacity and bigoted and problematic, you take a sudden, intense interest in the wallpaper pattern, sweeping your eyes over the span of it, looking over the man just once.

He is staring right back at you.

All it takes is his eyes- he’s just staring, but you’re absolutely embarrassed. 

He looks rich, with too much product in his hair and a coat that looks like it cost more than your rent, with loafers that expose an uncomfortable amount of ankle and an expression that morphs into something wolfish as he starts towards you-

Before you can think, he’s joined your little circle- Meg prefers standing, so of course, everyone stands- and smiles when she glares at him. 

He isn’t looking at you anymore.

“So,” he interrupts, and his voice is so dark, “what riveting political topic are we debating tonight?”

You should call an Uber. Why did you accept Meg’s offer of a ride?

“Ransom,” Meg says sweetly, “could you just, like, fucking not?”

This is supposed to be a Christmas party, but none of these people seem to be in the Christmas spirit. Including her uncle, with his stuffy sweater set and clunky-as-hell shoes. He sputters something about young people and their profanity, and then hastily leaves. 

Without thinking, you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. 

The man smiles wider. Unfortunately, it makes him look very handsome.

”Ouch,” he says lightly, to Meg, and turns to you.

A shiver runs down your spine. 

You hate him immediately. 

“Who are you?” he asks.

For whatever reason, the question makes Meg scoff. She shakes her head at you- a warning. Her hair flounces with the movement.

Because she doesn’t want you to, you give him your name. And then add, because your name alone seems like a title too stripped down, “I’m Meg’s friend.”

It’s hard to convince yourself to be polite, when you don’t like how he’s been looking at you- with his eyes narrowed and brown furrowed and lips parted. He gives an insufferable nod.

“Right,” he says. “The one she’s been showing off all evening.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Ransom-” Meg starts, and suddenly you are so angry, at this man for confirming what you thought was all in your head, at Meg for suddenly swooping in to save you, like she’s been waiting for it-

“I guess,” you say, and smile a little, and regret everything.

“That’s pathetic,” he says, and looks at you kindly.

 Apparently, Meg is the only one allowed to be self-righteous in her annoyance, or anger, or any other mildly passionate emotion. She doesn’t return your covert this-is-total-bullshit glance. 

So you fend for yourself.

“Well, so is this fucking party, so-”

He interrupts you with a laugh. 

It’s loud and arrogant and mirthless, and you’ll climb out of a window, find a way to walk through the walls, if it means that you’ll escape it.

“I’m just joking,” he says, pursing his lips, and the hands on your neck, ever-present, nearly crush the breath out of you. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh,” you say, and instead of replying, he just looks at you.

He looks at you slowly, like he has nothing better to do, like he has time to waste. You can smell him- some cologne that’s spicy, and expensive, and Meg is staring at you in shock, like you’ve committed a crime. 

But she’s quiet.

“I’m Ransom,” he says, and raises his hands to make little air quotes, which is weirdly adorable in a way that you hate, “Meg’s ‘asshole cousin’”

“Weird name,” you say. 

You’ve changed your mind- you’re not even going to attempt to be nice.

For a second, he looks furious.

It’s attractive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Anyways, I’m about to ditch. Do you want a ride?”

How does he know you came here with Meg?

He was staring at you from the wall-

From his butterscotch-colored coat with its awful, ostensible lapels, he pulls out his car keys. The BMW logo flashes silver and blue, clashing against the gold of his pinky ring, clinking against the metal as he twirls the key ring around his finger-

For a second, you think that he’s about to toss the keys across the room and command you to fetch.

“Um,” you say, uncertainly, irritated with your own restraint, “Thanks, but Meg will-”

“Meg will what?”

He’s mocking you, and there is no one to come to your rescue. 

Hesitantly, like she has to think twice about it, Meg opens her mouth to say something. What is her problem? What is your problem? Why are you treating her like she is your saving grace? 

You talk before she gets the chance. “Okay, yeah. A ride would be great.”

***

Ransom offers because he likes your face.

You’re better-looking than the girls that Meg usually brings along to these parties, or maybe his standards have fallen- he isn't sure. Does it really matter? Even though he’s been looking at you all night, even though he’s positively thrilled to have you in his car, he’s not going to try anything.

There’s something desperate in your eyes that compels him against it.

You inhale sharply when he turns left. 

“You forgot your turn signal,” you say, and he kind of likes how you chastise him, not angrily or even upset, but just exasperated-

How is someone like you friends with someone like Meg?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly, and the tired glare you give him is enough to make his entire week.

Now that he thinks about it, his mother is always on his case about things like this- compassion and civility and basic human decency, and how he lacks it all, but what about now? He’s taking a miserable girl to her home, simply from the goodness of his own heart, with no strings attached. 

This is such a good deed- this is like charity.

His mother is also always telling him that he’s severely, almost clinically narcissistic.

He definitely is, but again, does it matter?

“So, what do you think about my family?” he asks, making a big, dramatic show of using his turn signal before swerving right, feeling too pleased when you smile. 

He steals a glance at your knees and somehow feels guilty.

He’ll have to do something about that.

“They’re pretty... lively,” you say hesitantly, and he’s suddenly hating the dark, this stupid fucking night- he’d like to see you better.

“Lively,” he repeats, and barks out a laugh. “They’re fucking crazy.”

You laugh, too, a real one- off-kilter, and too loud- none of that artificial shit he heard at the party. Nothing meant to please.

“I was definitely thinking that,” you say. He catches you looking at his hands, but boldly, you don’t look away. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”

“Now you’re worried about being rude?”

“I’m in a car with a strange guy I’ve never met before, so yeah.”

You’re smiling but look uncomfortable, and then afraid.

All bark and no bite- you’ve been talking all this talk, when really, he realizes, you’re so washed-out, so faint, like the bare sliver of moon out in the sky, the same weak moon he’s been cursing out. The same stars, too- you are just as scattered.

You look pretty.

“Are you scared?”

He keeps his eyes on the road because he thinks you’ll snap at him if he doesn’t. Not like anyone drives out here anyway- not like he can’t pay off a ticket or two or five-

“Should I be?”

There is something so delicious about this moment, with you starting to worry- he can’t look at the road anymore, not when he can watch your throat bob as you swallow instead, and it still feels so violating, but so good. 

“Nope,” he says, and you startle when you hear him say it, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “No need.”

“Great,” you say, and go quiet. 

When he pulls up to your apartment complex, not too far from where he lives, he holds his mouth in check. He could say so many things right now, but for you, he restrains himself.

You have your bag in hand, seatbelt off. From the streetlight, the planes of your face look waxy yellow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say. 

Your hand is on the door handle, nails glittering. He can’t make out the color of the polish.

While looking at it, a sudden urge overcomes him.

And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he wants to, so bad. It’s borderline frantic, the desire- it’s necessary and all-important and crucial, for him and his basic peace of mind, and maybe for you, too-

Who is he to deny himself?

“Wait,” he says, even though the door is open and you have half of yourself out the door. 

The cold is slowly seeping in, bone-chilling.

You wait.

“Let me just,” he says, and can’t bring himself to say anything else.

He reaches out for your waxen face with one hand and presses it firmly against your cheek.

Under his touch, you shiver. He fans out his fingers to hold you better. 

Your eyes are wide. He thinks you look a bit horrified- horrified with yourself for not resisting, maybe.

But he closes his eyes as he leans in, so it doesn’t matter.

He turns your head for you, a bit forcefully. You don’t protest.

He kisses your cheek.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, you’re staring at him with your mouth in a perfect circle.

“Uh,” you say, and suddenly look away and out into the night, and it makes him angry, even though it should be flattering, “Merry Christmas.”

*** 

You don’t think about Ransom as much as he probably would have wanted- life picks up too fast.

In the last days of the year, Meg calls you and texts you and even goes so far as to send a few emails, but finally, you seem to have found the self-respect to not respond- consider that ridiculously wealthy bridge burned. 

In January, your brother leaves to study for a semester abroad. All the walls in your small apartment are suddenly looming, standing high over you, standing empty. You try to shove off the loneliness by studying harder, by staying distracted.

In February, you have the same dream nearly every night- you’re sitting outside on a porch in the sun and for some reason there’s a bird on your head, and in your lap there’s a clock whose hands don’t work, and you’re wearing a heavy necklace made of gold links that jingle, and you’re so happy. 

Does the bird count as company?

In early March, while you’re watering your plants, your phone rings with an unknown number. 

You shouldn’t pick up unknown numbers.

You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Remember me?” 

His voice nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s dark and harsh, faceless and yet as arrogant as ever. 

“Hi, Ransom,” you say, and think of the night in the car for the first time since, think of how he gripped your face so hard that his ring left an imprint. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Meg gave it to me,” he says smugly. “She says hi.”

You wonder what Meg thinks you did to her. It’s obviously something bad, something terrible, if she so willingly gave your number to this pretty-faced, pretty-voiced, ugly-coat-wearing asshole-

“Awesome,” you say plainly. You don’t want to talk about her. “Do you, like, need something, or-”

“I want to take you out,” he says.

You laugh and your grip on your pitcher slips, sloshing water over the edge.

“You’re joking.”

He is, right? 

He takes an impatient breath that, for some reason, sounds inappropriate. “I’m serious.”

“Ransom,” you say, slowly, “I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says testily, and you can perfectly picture him, sitting in some colossal brownstone his parents bought him, while a butler daintily dabs the sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. “Tonight.”

You’ve overwatered your marigolds. 

Has his voice really swept you this far away?

“No,” you say, and shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “You have anything better to do?”

You don’t, but you take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie-

“I’ll treat you good,” he suddenly says, and his voice is low and sticky-sweet, dripping with honey. “I promise.”

He says it in a way that makes your knees weak.

You physically have to sit down- he knows how to get what he wants.

Could you actually do this?

Could you go out on a date with a crude, pretentious, trust-fund piece of trash, who probably thinks you’re easy, who’s only calling you because he’s bored, who has already subtly insulted you twice in this conversation alone-

-who got your number from his cousin that you both decidedly dislike, who kissed your cheek like you were pretty in the dark of the night, in his cold car?

“Fine,” you say. “Take me out.”

***

He doesn’t tell you that you look nice- he just stares.

There is something predatory in his eyes.

You’re out on a Wednesday night with a bad man, wasting your time, trying to get something out of nothing, smiling a fake smile when he orders you a drink you don’t like, already irritated with him, and trying too hard to stop looking at his face.

How are you actually interested?

You tell him that you’re in medical school.

“Really,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you. “You don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Underneath the table, you clench your hands for some sense of control, but still feel like you’re spinning. “What kind of girl?”

“Smart,” he says, and picks up his drink. The glass sweats beads of condensation, wetting the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t know you were smart.”

You shouldn’t dignify his flimsy insult with a response- he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, trying to make you roll your eyes or scowl or shiver. He wants you unsettled. 

But the moral high ground is, unfortunately, too high.

“And I didn’t know that you’re such a terrible date.”

His teeth gleam white when he smiles. He knows.

He knows that he can say whatever the hell he wants, because he has money, and those eyes, and that insufferably nice rich-boy hair, and that sweater with its charmingly frayed hems, and that voice- he has everything, and then some, and he’s about to have you, too, if he keeps on looking at you like he already does.

“You’re so sweet,” he says. 

“Fuck off.”

He winks and you could cry, you’re so fucking bothered-

You’re not usually this uptight, but he has you so drastically wound up that every little thing he does, even how he’s sitting- body sprawled, manspreading- is fire licking up on your skin, scorching-hot and ruining you with no remorse, like you have done something to deserve it.

When his eyes trail down, from your eyes to your mouth to your neck to below, you are so acutely aware of wanting him that you feel guilty. Like it’s a crime.

***

You don’t seem like the type of girl to fuck on the first date. 

So, of course, Ransom tries to fuck on the first date.

As you stand outside the restaurant, in your dress and strappy sandals, you look so tense that he wants to laugh.

 He can’t help it, because this whole thing you have going on- this weariness you approach everything with, this attitude- is so funny. Maybe, in any other situation, it would be irritating, but he’s been so bored lately that it’s stirring.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks, quietly, taking a step closer to you so that at this very moment, under the waning sun, you should be able to just lean up and kiss him-

You blink slowly and keep your silence.

This is fucking tedious.

This should be so easy- all he has to do is settle his hands somewhere soft and let time pass, and then before he knows it you’re there and under and begging. But he can’t bring himself to touch you just yet, not when his head is calling you pathetic, and his heart calls you-

His heart just calls you.

You start to answer, and then hesitate. All five stages of grief flicker over your face at once- denial to acceptance in the same breath. 

“Sure,” you say, unevenly, desperately-

When you step inside his house, your eyes go wide. As you take it in- the decor, the windows, the excess, he locks the door behind him and takes you in.

You step further inside, and he thinks of where it would be best, but then your eyes crease as you smile- it’s impossible to wait when your smile looks like that- and so he backs you right into the closest wall, cups your face with both of his hands and kisses you.

He kisses you and you curl your hands over his shoulders and immediately kiss back, and he is taken aback and delighted. 

And he knew- the entire time at dinner when you were making eyes at him like you couldn’t believe that you were actually sitting there, present in that moment- he knew that secretly, you’re a freak. He knew it- he knows it.

He hopes it.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers, right into your mouth, when your heart has been beating right into his for a while, “Let me fuck you right here.”

You bite his lip.

He takes a hand away from your face and reaches under your dress fast, rucking it all the way up your thighs, trailing up to touch you-

“Fuck,” you gasp, and arch your back up against the wall, and he grips you a little tighter-

He presses a finger into you- pushing aside your underwear and, good grief, you’re already wet- harshly, and pulls away from your mouth, so he can watch your face. 

The lines creasing your forehead look like poetry.

He thinks he likes you. It’s a shame he had to meet you through Meg- it would be nice if he had met you somewhere else, on his own. 

That way, he’d be able to waltz in one day, to another insipid family gathering, with you tucked under his arm. You, with your promise of a medical degree and your strappy sandals, and your iron grip on his shoulders and your drawn out breath of a moan-

The looks on their faces would be priceless.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and he’s a little irritated at how cracked his voice sounds, but it’s the right thing to say- you swear again and he picks up his pace, pressing hard on your clit. “If you’ll be good to me.”

“I’ll-” you say, and you’re actually stuttering, and breaking out into a lovely sweat, still forced back into the wall with his hand and body. He leans closer, so he can’t tell where you and him and the wall start and end. “I’ll be- fuck, Ransom-”

You still have your arms wrapped around him, like an embrace. He keeps one hand between your thighs, your dress pooling over his arm like water, and uses his other to work at his belt buckle.

This is also funny- you stay exactly how you are, even though at that moment, there is nothing holding you back.

***

The world is begging for you to consider your actions.

But you don’t. You know that when he offers, you’ll meet him again.

It should be too late. You’re exhausted, from a day full of lectures and an evening spent in a lab, working as a professor’s research assistant, and then studying for a few hours in the library- all you really want to do is sleep. 

But then he calls.

The night is suddenly brimming with possibility, and you’ve never been more awake.

On a whim, Ransom suggests ice cream, and because you can’t bring yourself to deny him, you end up at a place that you would never go for- where everything is handmade and served in thick paper cups with multicolored plastic spoons, but he pays, because of his stupid ego or fragile masculinity or whatever the hell, so you don’t care.

He stands next to you as you order, and his shoulder keeps on brushing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. In the glass shield that the tubs of ice cream sit behind, you’re both reflected, your body warped and tall, his body warped and taller. In the glass, his eyes meet yours.

The tension is strong- it’s only a matter of time.

Your heart flutters.

When you sit, he bumps his knees against yours- you’re sure it’s on purpose, now, but you don’t say anything. What even is there to say? 

That you like it? 

When he digs into his ice cream, the plastic spoon- a green one- snaps in his hand.

 And because you’re so caught up in your own ridiculous thoughts, before he can go back up to get another, you pull your own from your mouth- a pink one- and offer it to him.

The proposition makes him smile.

Why does he smile like that? Each movement, each twitch of muscle is so perfectly detached and coordinated- it’s violent. 

But he still takes the spoon from you gently, with a soft hand. 

He’s too pretty to be mean, you think, but against any type of judgement- not just the better kind- you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let yourself laugh and he scowls. 

“This place sucks,” he says, like he isn’t the one who chose it.

He adjusts the womens’ scarf he’s always wearing, carefully arranging it over himself so it looks like it was carelessly thrown on. The blue in the paisley print brings out his eyes- it makes him look so stupidly hot that you start to get angry.

You just shrug. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

He puts your spoon in his mouth and looks at you.

Again, the night ends at his place- this time on an actual bed, because you ask for it, and you think he likes how you look when you ask for things in the current state state you’re in-

He fucks you in the dark, and swears into your ear, and is not kind or soft in any way, but after he finishes, he takes the time to kiss the spot in between your breasts, and you think that maybe he isn’t entirely horrible. The bedsheets are cool against your skin, and his mouth is always hot.

You leave without a word.

***

He takes you out this time, in a real, urgent show of wealth- he picks you up in his fancy car, takes you to a fancy restaurant where the numbers next to the fancy menu items are all appalling, where he spends the whole time making these awful, unfunny innuendos that still manage to rile you up, because they’re coming from his mouth-

On the way back, while waiting at a stoplight, you take a deep breath and brace yourself before looking at him.

He really is gorgeous- all lazy grace and harsh angles. The light colors his face red, red in his eyes and in the plane of his cheekbone and in the slope of his mouth- like a beautiful warning sign. His hands are carelessly draped over the steering wheel and, despite the warning, you reach out and trace a finger over his knuckles. 

His whole body jerks.

You quickly draw your hand back.

“What?” he asks sharply. He’s staring at you like you’re crazy.

You don’t know why this is suddenly so fucking embarrassing, all you did was touch him- but you suddenly feel terrible, and-

“Nothing,” you say, with the same tone, and whip your head away from him to the window, where you smolder in the dark and furiously stare at nothing.

The light turns green. He takes his foot off the break and all but slams it on the gas pedal, driving as atrociously as ever, looking over at you for a split second when you don’t protest. The blood rushing in your ears is too loud for you to think- you can’t form any words.

Once it subsides, marginally, you add, “Sorry.”

His jaw tenses.

You look back over at him, at his ring, and imagine it pressing into your neck.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” he suddenly asks- suddenly demands, with a blazing authority that makes your stomach do flips.

You don’t know what answer he wants. “Um, one time I snuck out of-“

“Let’s do something crazier.”

On an abandoned road, he pulls over, and then you’re under him in the backseat- doing something crazier. 

You might have some type of psychic tendencies, because his ring presses heavy into your neck as he pushes himself inside you, starting at a bruising pace, and then he says your name in the dark, and he looks so beautifully flushed, startling when you grab his hair, laughing when your hand accidentally skims his thigh, smiling when you come-

You wish you had the resolve to put an end to this.

You wish you could stay when it’s over.

***

You don’t like his house.

It’s not the brownstone you imagined, but rather a huge, minimalistic box, with too many windows and spotless paint and modern wood fixtures. Ransom has all of these customary rich-person things, including stately furniture and eclectic art pieces and tall shelves stuffed with books, but owning any actual personality has escaped him.

Standing in his house feels like standing in an empty room- it’s all so apathetic.

Still, you show up when he calls.

You haven’t done anything this bad before. 

But there’s a first time for everything, right? First time for enjoying bruises and biting and an unwavering grip on your neck or hips or waist or thighs, first time leaving something so intense so awkwardly.

Each time is worse than the last, with the awkwardness spiraling, accruing beyond reason, and each time you struggle with what to say- even now, you just do your best to stay quiet as you start to get up, reaching for your clothes-

Ransom drapes a heavy arm over you before you have the chance.

“You can stay,” he says flippantly, and then shifts to pull you close to him, so that you are suddenly lying bare-backed against his chest, so that his sweat-slick body and heartbeat imprints itself on your skin.

Is he asking?

You crane your head over your shoulder to get a look at him.

He returns your stare like he’s been waiting for it. 

His face is still flushed pink and a lock of hair hangs low over his forehead, and if you were any braver, you would comb a hand through it, gently, with no real intentions. He’s breathtaking. Even the new, foreign purple under his eyes is a sight- pretty like something you would want to kiss.

“You want me to stay?”

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head back. You would lick the sweat from the divots of his neck, if he asked you to.

“Or leave, if you want. I could care less.”

He cares

You know it because his grip is unwavering, because the terseness in his eyes is enough to make you look away.

Eventually, you settle a hand over his arm and try your best not to tremble. Ransom mumbles something under your breath- you can’t make any of it out, but you don’t ask him to repeat it, for the fear that it’ll upset this fragile bedroom balance you’ve so painstakingly built yourself into-

He wants you to stay. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, because you don’t think he is.

He inhales. You feel his chest against you; it’s shaky. You wonder, for a second, about who he might actually be, underneath the arrogance and egotism and constant need to be an asshole- is he someone you could like without feeling bad about it?

“Yeah,” he says, and throws his other arm over you, so that he is holding you. “Why?”

There isn’t a genuine bone in this man’s body, but he genuinely sounds confused.

It’s possible that you’re the one who isn’t okay.

“Because,” you say, and take a great leap of faith- holding your bare heart in your hands, you turn to face him.

You’re fully exposed and subjected to his gaze- it’s nearly eviscerating. His eyes dip down to your chest and something like insecurity flares in your chest. It’s awful and terrible and you urgently want to kiss him on the lips.

He always kisses you first. You don’t know if you have it in you to kiss him yet. 

You wouldn’t ever try, in case you don’t.

“You look kind of tired,” you say, and his eyes bore into you with a sinking weight, threatening to drown. One of his hands finds a blooming bruise on your skin and lightly presses. He doesn’t react when you wince. The action is still kind- almost tender.

He sighs, and it is such a delicate breath, fanning hot over your skin. 

“I’m not tired,” he says, almost childishly.

You might be overstepping. But you don’t even know where the lines have been drawn. 

“Okay,” you say, and because you would not dare kiss his lips, you lean close and kiss his jaw instead.

He startles and then gives you a crooked, lazy smile. He is everything good, you think- for this one moment. Pretty and soft-handed and made of glass and honey and all other lovely things.

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck and wrap an arm over his, tight, so he knows you are there, and hope for the best.

***

In your spare moments, you’re always thinking.

Ransom knows this because of how you look when you do it- your brow furrows and your eyes go glassy, and you frown with an intensity that he has never seen on anyone else.

It happens when you finish a sentence, when you have no response for him, when he is still talking but you’ve stopped listening. When you think it’s quiet.

It never happens during sex- is it pathetic to take pride in that?

As he stands in your apartment for the first time ever, you look like you’re in near-despair, like your thoughts are wreaking havoc on your mind, destructive and distressing. You wear basketball shorts and a college sweatshirt and glasses.

He didn’t know you wore glasses, and that you looked like this in them- he’s been missing out.

“Hi,” you say, and stare at him with troubled eyes.

Your apartment is so small. He almost feels claustrophobic, standing in here. When was the last time he willingly stood somewhere so small?

The lengths he’ll go to, for… 

For you, he supposes.

“Hi,” he says, and wonders, also for the first time ever, what it is that you’re always thinking. “Why do you have so many plants?”

On the windowsill, with even spacing in between, sits an entire row of glass jars housing plants- all singular flower stems, some budding, some in bloom. The petals of a marigold brush against the window, orange against the grey outside. It’s cute, he absently thinks, in a struggling, shabby type of way.

“It’s just something I do for fun,” you say, sounding irritated. “Like, a hobby.” 

Infringing on the living room space is a small table, cluttered with textbooks and pens and an open laptop with its screen dark.

It still baffles him that you’re smart.

“So,” you start, and cross your arms over your chest. He feels kind of offended, because he’s just realized that he really only knows a handful of things about you, and even that handful is sparse, slipping through his fingers. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He called on impulse. 

He’s just- he’s in what someone could call a mood, where he hates everything and has the intense desire to ruin something, and while he was thinking of how to fix it- beyond just getting wasted- he thought of you.

And when he called, you were sounding so tired and so he even said he could just meet you here, so you wouldn’t have to drive, so you could squeeze in a few more minutes of studying before he inevitably invades your mind-

Easily, he deflects. Nearby, there’s a hallway with two doors, one of which is tightly closed shut.

“What’s in there?” he asks, and points towards it.

You relax, slightly.

He wants to gather you up in his arms, but he doesn’t know for whose sake- his or yours?

“That’s my brother’s room,” you say, and your shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to pull you upright, and the urge to gawk. Brother? “He lives with me. But he’s studying abroad this semester.”

“Where?”

“Prague.”

He nods. This is a stiff, perfect, shocking distraction. “Nice city.”

You nod distantly and head back to the table to put your things away.

“Yeah,” you say, after too long of a pause, as you start to cap pens and set them aside. You look at him as you do it, and so you miss a few times, accidentally drawing dark lines of ink all over your fingers. “I’m glad he got to go. When we were kids, he was obsessed with wanting to travel- he had this entire map in our room, and he would draw stars over every country he wanted to visit, and there were, like, a hundred of them, and he could list every single one, in the exact order he wanted to visit, and he could even list the capitals- I’m sorry. You probably don’t care about any of this.”

He doesn’t.

Or, he shouldn’t, but your eyes are clearer, and as you neatly stack your textbooks in an order only known to you, he is almost intrigued.

He’s longing for you- when you are right there.

He feels like a person outside of himself, when you look at him and smile tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

There’s a cheesy ‘90s horror movie you find after a few minutes of channel surfing, complete with terrible special effects and edited-out profanity. The days are longer, now, and to stop the sun from casting a glare over the screen, you close all the blinds. It adds to the atmosphere, you say lightly, fully phased out of whatever just possessed you, and his hands are so itchy- itching to do something.

He sits. Patience is a virtue, but he is not virtuous, and so when you sit next to him and bring your knees to your chest, making yourself small, he goes to-

Something in his stomach stops him. 

It’s butterflies- is he actually nervous?

This is so fucking infuriating.

You’ve got him trapped in some type of pain-and-power-play, some type of unassuming purgatory, and all he can bring himself to do is lightly brush a hand against your shoulder. You smile at his touch and his heart fucking breaks.

As the second boy in the friend group gets murdered onscreen, you close your eyes and duck your head into your knees.

“Tell me when it’s over,” you say, voice muffled.

“Scaredy-cat,” he says, even though this is no time for jokes. 

You crack one eye open, looking only at him, and give him the finger.

Come here, he almost demands. The butterflies protest- he holds his tongue.

The dance continues. When the sun sets, everything darkens, settling into a dim blue. You look like something out of a painting. Faintly sad, unusually serene. The skin around your eyes has smoothened- you’ve stopped thinking so hard and he can suddenly breathe easier because of it-

And then there’s a jumpscare, and he shouts, “Jesus!”

The murderer has broken down a door, and all of the remaining characters are screaming, and you burst out laughing.

He’s in the middle of a crisis, and you’re laughing.

You lean into him as you laugh, with your head turned away from the screen and your eyes open, looking at him so fondly that he suddenly feels violated, and you let your shoulder brush against his.

“Scaredy-cat” you tease, and it’s absolutely now or never-

You’re making him weak- it takes too much time and effort for him to draw an arm over you.

You don’t flinch, but he is sure that you can hear his heart beating dangerously fast, without abandon, like it's trying to break free of his ribcage. He almost gasps when you come even closer and lightly kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around him, and his head is just saying yes yes yes-

Your mouth goes over his ear, lips ghosting over skin. He waits, more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life, for what you have to say. 

***

So this is Ransom’s deep, dark, ugly secret.

He likes to be cuddled.

If it were anyone else, you would laugh.

But it’s Ransom, and so you just take it in stride, as part of his extremely fucked-up psyche that is probably a result of a hundred things he’ll never tell you- childhood trauma and neglect and the consequences that come with having more money than you need or deserve.

He’s always talking, always talking shit, always talking over you and over everyone else, and you realize, one day, that he really only is treading water- he’s only focused on staying afloat, speaking whatever he wants, but never actually saying anything.

He’s responsible for his faults, of course. But still, when he smiles in low light or curls his hands over yours so viciously, you don’t know if you should leave, or if you should just stay and pity him quietly.

You’re starting to like him too much to even care.

He starts coming around more. And he actually stays, and starts leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a toothbrush next to yours and a phone charger on his side of the bed and imported, undoubtedly expensive snacks in the kitchen.

He leaves clothes, too- you wash them with yours and keep them, neatly folded, in your closet.

On a warm day in May, he meets you at a cafe.

He does most of the talking, like always. It’s been months, already, but you still find it difficult to start conversations.

You still have trouble telling him certain things without feeling like you have to defend yourself, and he still rarely deviates from being a total dick, even when you hold him or have his head in your lap, when you make him laugh or when you kiss him.

Or when you put your hands in the sleeves of his sweaters and rub your palms against his forearms, because he’s always running warm and your hands are always cold. 

He always acts like it annoys him, jumps when your hands meet his skin- but you know he secretly likes it, because whenever you’re done he pulls the hems all the way over his hands and looks at you with something amazed in his eyes.

With the weather warming up, he’s ditched the sweaters and taken to wearing these awful fucking short-sleeved button-downs, all unnecessarily tight and showing way too much collarbone. He’s making you sweat.

“You’re staring,” he says, and smiles, self-satisfied.

You bring your straw to your lips and shake your head. “I’m not.”

He knows that you can’t help it- he is always so gorgeous. He’s infuriatingly pretty.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, and nudges your foot under the table, voice suddenly low, and it’s like, holy shit-

You bring your drink down and lean over the table, careful to avoid knocking anything over, and kiss him quickly.

He tastes like bitter coffee.

You’re sad, all of a sudden.

When you settle back in your seat, you clear your throat like nothing happened. You want to lean in again and button up the rest of his shirt, and kiss him again. You want to come so close that your noses touch, and then yell at him, just for being him.

He looks appalled

“What was that for?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever done this.

“No reason,” you say. “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like it,” he repeats, and it’s like the same reaction from the night at the stoplight, and you realize-

He’s dumbstruck.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears. He sets his jaw like he’s about to get up and leave. You try not to scowl, even though you feel like you’re drifting, tide carrying you away, sand clean and smooth on where your body once was-

It gets to you.

“Can I not just kiss you?” you snap harshly, glaring at him with a ferocity you don’t think he’s ever seen.

It’s inevitable- the result of months of frustration. You can only suppress yourself for so long. Why, you want to ask, why are you not entitled to him the way he is to you and everything else? Can you not ask for him so wholly?

He flinches.

Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire, flinches.

It brings a small sliver of satisfaction with it. There’s some nerve you’ve struck, and the discontent on his face is steadily growing- 

You pay it no mind, drinking the rest of your iced coffee in calm silence. 

Outside, the day is vaguely summery, where the sun is out and strong, but still too cold in the shade. You stare past his head, towards the door. How quickly can you leave?

“You can,” he says quietly, when you’re rising to throw your cup in the trash. “Whenever you want.”

His eyelashes are so long- they command a moment of attention all on their own when he blinks- soft and slow and gazing at you from underneath them. You wonder if he is doing this for the same reason you are. If he’s lonely, too.

When was the last time you had the dream with the bird?

You smirk. “Whenever?”

He is forlorn. 

You like him better in the spring.

“Whenever.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say, and make your voice low, since two can play at that game.

He considerably perks up. 

*** 

When you wake up, he’s still in your bed.

Lately, he’s been spending more time at your place than his. You think that all those windows are finally starting to get to him.

Ransom always holds you fiercely in his sleep. You break free as gently as you can and take him in for a brief moment- you like how he looks when he’s asleep. Unconcerned, chest rising slow with each breath, hair splayed over the pillow in nearly every direction. He almost looks innocent.

You get up quietly, even though there’s no chance he’ll stir- he sleeps like the dead.

Daylight filters through the blinds in white-yellow streams, dappling him golden. 

You almost take a picture, but regretfully leave the room for other tasks- you stretch and water your plants and check your email, and then sit down at the table to Skype your brother.

He picks up fast.

“Hey!” you say, and at once feel so much relief, to see his grainy, smiling face on your laptop screen.

Europe has done him good- he’s grown out his hair, and his skin is glowing, and he looks so happy.

He tells you about what he’s been doing lately, studying architecture. It makes you so proud, this fact alone- that unlike you, he can do whatever he wants and doesn’t have the looming promises of debt and academic burnout and crushing, ever-present stress hovering over his shoulders. It is so good to see him, and you are so grateful that he can be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do-

“Holy shit, who is that?”

He’s looking past you. You turn around and almost jump- 

Ransom stands in the kitchen, shirtless and rummaging through the cupboards. He waves at you.

You would think that someone like Ransom would exclusively sleep in, like, silk pajama sets, or something, but at least he’s in sweatpants- however low-rise they might be, however loosely knotted the drawstring is. It’s better than nothing, at least- what if he had walked out in nothing?

When you turn back to the screen, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your camera feed- you look absolutely mortified.

You are absolutely mortified. This is the start of what can only be a nightmare.

“Are you dating that guy?” your brother asks incredulously. He’s still staring at Ransom with his jaw hanging loose. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” you say forcefully, without thinking. “That’s, um... “

Hopelessly, you gesture back towards him, trying to come up with the words. Nothing feels right in your mouth- every title you can come up with is too consequential, too heavy.

“...That’s Ransom.”

“Weird name,” your brother says, and grins.

You take a breath that feels more like a gasp. “I know.”

“Hey,” Ransom says, from the back, and continues to loudly open and close the cupboards- what the fuck is he even looking for? You don’t keep enough shit in there to warrant this much noise- he’s doing this for theatrics.

“I think I’m going to go,” you say loudly. “Love you.”

“Bye,” your brother says, and he’s grinning stupidly, like a madman.

You disconnect and feel like you might faint.

Not your boyfriend, right?

“Was that your brother?” Ransom asks, casually, finally finding what he was looking for- two mugs. There is no way that he didn’t come across them earlier. 

“Yeah- yes,” you say shakily. It feels like someone has filled your brain with fizzy water.

There’s a few boys your brother has met over the years, but you’ve always been careful. Because an introduction is like making a statement- it’s like saying that this person you’re with is important enough to you that they’re going to overlap, exist in more than just one part of your life.

But Ransom is a catastrophe of a person- you can barely handle him as he is. How could you ever have him as anything more?

He goes through the cupboards, again, and finds a box of teabags. “The one studying abroad?”

“I only have one brother,” you snap.

“Okay,” he says, totally unbothered, surprising you. He’s not a morning person in the slightest- why is he being so cordial? “Where do you keep your kettle?”

“Second cupboard on the right,” you say, and bury your head in your hands.

He looks at you. He is so many things, but never kind, until now. His hair, in its adorable bedhead, flops over his eyes. Before, it was only almost, but now, you think, he looks completely innocent, like the type of guy you could give kisses without feeling nervous, the type of guy you wouldn’t deny as your boyfriend.

What is wrong with him?

What is wrong with you?

At the end of the day, he’s always there- you’re exclusive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough to deserve a title?

He finds the kettle, and then sifts through the box. He sorts through different flavors with a gentle precision you’ve never seen before- is this really him? Is he the type of person that is gentle and precise?

The uneven smattering of blue-black bruises on your thighs say no.

You’re so confused that your head hurts.

“None of these flavors are any good,” Ransom says, and shakes his head. His hair shines in the morning light. “Earl Grey- who the hell drinks Earl Grey?”

“Don’t insult my tea like that,” you say, and he looks back at you and gives you a brilliant flash of a smile.

If he’s bothered at all by your denial, he never brings it up.

*** He’s too far gone.

He’s in freefall, feeling weak- he’s fucking succumbed.

To you. To your comebacks and the world-weary gaze you have of everything, to your nonsensical collection of plants and your painfully unattractive basketball shorts, to the way you laugh too loud and too little, to the way you say his name, where he can never tell if you’re happy with him or exasperated-

It’s wrong. 

But, he thinks, so are all of these other things, like drugs and alcohol and blowing money on shit he doesn’t need- and you make him feel better than any of those things ever have, so why should anybody have a problem with it? A week goes by after you tell your brother that he isn’t your boyfriend- and it doesn’t bother him, because he’s never wanted that title in the first place, never has- but it obviously bothers you. 

You’re disappointed in yourself, because you think you’re supposed to be better than him, because you’re so smart and he is so terrible.

He hopes that that’s not how you actually think. It hurts him to0 much to even consider it, and so he doesn’t, and so he thinks of how to keep his hold on you, and then he thinks of why he even wants to-

The truth is too apparent to deny.

After a week, he calls.

***

He’s very slow.

Not tired- just consumed with the sudden need to savor things. When you let yourself into his arms, Ransom treats you like you’re fragile.

“What’s up with you?” you ask, and as he stares, your voice reduces to something small. You go timid when his eyes are on yours, he realizes, and the thought sends a thrill through his body- he slowly rocks you, to calm himself.

Your shirt is off and you wear a bra with a small lace trim- not racy, but very cute- and he just keeps on staring.  

Wow, he thinks. He fucked up good.

“Nothing,” he says, and moves one hand from your waist- he has you in his lap, straddling him- up to the top of your neck. He trails down and over to your collarbone, hooking a finger into your bra strap.

You laugh, breathy and indecent.

He lifts it, subtly, and you whine, and he bites back his own.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, and kisses your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Ransom,” you gasp, with your hands splayed over his back. He slowly skims his hand over, to your back, feeling every little thing, dip and contour and curve, everything- and then unhooks it, and you are bared to him and he is breathless.

He takes you by the shoulders and twists, to bring you down, to pin you against the bed. Your comforter is dark blue, like ocean water.

Your eyes are endless, like ocean water.

“Are you upset about something?” 

Your chest rises and falls and he almost reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but stops himself. He presses a wet kiss to one of your breasts, and you arch into his mouth. He feels like you know every single secret of his, when he has told you none.

You know by accident that he’s ticklish. That’s it.

“I’m not,” he says. “I promise.”

He bends low to kiss down the length of your body, repositions his hands to hold your waist. He thinks that this is more intense- it is just his mouth and your skin and the sound of your breath hitching.

He still has it put together, remarkably well- unfathomably well.

“I feel like there’s something you’re- ah- not telling me, honey.”

That does it.

He grips your waist harder, in the way he knows you always like, so that tomorrow he will be able to retrace his steps, follow the blue-

“Say that again,” he says, and presses a soft kiss over you- even through your underwear, with its delicate lace trim, he can feel how wet and wanting and ready you are for him.

“Say- fuck- say what?”

Your hand flails, for a second, before you thread it through his hair, and yank. It hurts, pleasantly.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and shimmies it down your thighs, and you instinctively spread your legs. He puts his mouth to your slit, slicker than he imagined, and the heady arousal rushing through his mind- and everywhere else- is nearly enough to make him forget what you even said-

He is quite possibly drunk off of you alone, and he wants to slap himself, and, like, press you so close into him that you forget your way out.

With the spare glow of one lamp, you look like you’re made of gold.

He breaks away from you for a terrible moment to strip, and with one hand he teases your clit, and with the other he pumps himself, hard, once, twice, three times in anticipation-

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says, and comes back up to cup your face once more, and slips his hand back down into you at the same time, with his cock hard against your thigh- this is all quite slippery- the game you’re playing at and the risk he’s trying to take-

“Honey,” you say, and you’re smiling deliriously, but shakily. “Honey honey honey.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, and his voice, in a moment of terrible, vulnerable, unspeakable betrayal, cracks. 

“Good,” you say, but your voice is all wobbly as he lines himself up and roughly pushes into you, holding you a little tighter to keep you steady. “You deserve it.”

He kisses you openmouthed, with his teeth scraping- it’s rough and jarring, the way you always take it. Against his mouth, you swear incoherently, stringing together a litany of curses with his name thrown in between, and goddamn him- it makes him smile.

He wastes no time- he can’t be patient any longer, not when he has you under him like this, and so he goes fast, snapping into you at a bruising pace and keeping his mouth close, and rubbing at your clit, to overstimulate you and make everything faster, harsher, more immediate-

When you come you always say his name, thickly with gravel in your voice, and gasp like the breath has been stolen from your lungs. This time, when you are so far gone that he thinks you’re beyond the realms of sound, and sight, too, with your eyes tightly screwed shut, he says it, for the sake of himself.

“I think I love you-”

[t0wnspersonb]

Love and Ghosts (Tendou Satori x Reader)

Word Count: 2,054

Summary: The volleyball team decides to take a trip to the mountains for a training camp. One night as everyone is settling down Tendou decides to tell a scary story, and you, being the complete scaredy cat that you are, couldn’t handle it. But your favorite middle blocker doesn’t hesitate to comfort you... both times.

~~~

I’m so sorry for not being active as much guys!!!! I really hope you guys enjoy this one, I hope I was able to do our Tendou some justice since he doesn’t get that much love I feel like. I hope the writing isn’t shit either lol. I’ve been super busy with life recently and haven’t really had the time or motivation to write a lot. Requests are open, so I will be shuffling through my inbox and will be writing for those hopefully soon. Once again I hope this story is okay and not complete garbage, writing for Tendou is a bit hard for me because I feel like I can’t really capture his personality lol. BUT let me know what you think😘😘😘

~~~

You whimpered softly, your grip on Goshiki tightening dramatically, not that he even noticed since he was squeezing you just as tight.

“ - But the next morning she was gone, and all that was left… was a bloody shoe.” Tendou said eerily, the flashlight he was using illuminated his face in the creepiest way possible. “Legend has it, she still roams around these woods searching for her shoe…”

Loud rustling was heard from behind you, causing you and Goshiki to scream loudly before you launched yourself over the campsite and right into Tendou’s arms where you clung to him tightly. You buried your face into his chest.

It wasn’t just you and Goshiki that had gotten frightened, the rest of the team had jumped at the sudden noise after being so engrossed in Tendou’s story. 

It was just Semi though, who was returning back to his seat after using the bathroom.

“It’s just a story Y/n-san, you should try and relax.” Shirabu sighed. 

You looked over at him accusingly, tears still gathered in your eyes. “It’s still really scary Shira-chan! You guys know I can’t handle these kinds of stories!”

The rest of the team looked at you in amusement and adoration. They knew how much of a scaredy cat you were, and how much of a cry baby you were. 

“I’ll protect you Y/n-senpai!” Goshiki said suddenly, although he was wiping the tears from his eyes as well.

Shirabu narrowed his eyes at him before looking off into the distance. “What is that?”

Goshiki screeched once more before rapidly looking around. 

“You aren’t going to protect anything.” Shirabu snorted. “You’re just as scared as Y/n.”

Despite the fear that had gripped at your heart from the scary story, you were incredibly happy about this training camp. 

It was your idea to do this camp in the mountains, and Washijou-sensei was entirely pleased with the training regime you had come up with.

Despite being a crybaby and a scaredy cat, you were the most reliable manager ever. The amount of care and thought you put into your team was greatly appreciated by everyone.

“Are you planning on staying in my lap the entire night Y/n-chan?” Tendou asked quietly, you looked up at the tall male who was staring down at you in amusement. 

Blush began to creep into your cheeks at his statement and your now realized position. You hadn’t even thought about it when you launched yourself at the redheaded male, but now that you were staring back at him, and realizing just how close your face was to his, well, maybe this was a bad idea.

It also didn’t help that you harbored a large crush on Tendou. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but recently just his appearance made your heart race. Tendou wasn’t shy when it came to praising you for your hard work, and it soon became something that you sought after. 

He wasn’t shy when it came to complimenting your appearance either, which you definitely didn’t mind. 

“S-Sorry.” you apologized and attempted to remove yourself from his lap, only for him to yank you back into his chest. 

His eyes turned catlike for a moment, a small smirk coating his lips. “I didn’t say that you had to move, you’re so cute when you’re scared Y/n-chan. If you want me to protect you the entire night my tent is always open.”

Your face burned at his statement. The butterflies in your stomach rippled wildly as a pleasant shiver made its way down your spine, you were suddenly very aware of his large hands resting on your back, almost burning through the layers of clothes.

“T-Tendou-kun!” you stuttered out in embarrassment, your hands shoving at his chest as you scrambled to remove yourself completely from him. 

He laughed loudly as you stumbled back to your seat next to Goshiki. Luckily everyone was in their own little world to even notice the exchange that had happened between you and the tall middle blocker.

“Y-Y/n-senpai you know that you can always depend on me to protect you right!?” Goshiki stuttered out, his eyes wide and bright.

A sweet smile overtook your features and you hugged the younger male tightly. “You’re so sweet Goshiki-chan! So reliable, what are you the ace!?”

The said male began spluttering about at your praise, causing the rest of the team to either sigh loudly or roll their eyes at the exchange. Sometimes your sweet disposition and praises were too much, especially because it stroked everyone’s ego immensely.

“Don’t coddle him Y/n. He needs more practice if he’s ever going to be the ace.” Shirabu sighed.

“Don’t be so mean Shira-chan, Goshiki-chan can be the ace if he really sets his mind to it. Although he definitely won’t be the kind of ace like Ushijima-kun.” You said thoughtfully.

“She’s right.” Ushijima said, glancing over at your group. 

This caused Goshiki to begin defending himself; loud bickering and laughter could be heard from your group now. Unbeknownst to you, Tendou was staring at you from across the campsite, his eyes drinking in every inch of your face, calculating and memorizing every reaction.

It wasn’t just you that had it bad. Tendou started harboring a large crush on you since you had joined the volleyball team.

You were sweet and caring, the gentlest person he had ever met. The kindness that you displayed to everyone was something that surprised him greatly, but what surprised him the most was your neverending dedication and praise towards the volleyball team. 

He remembered the first time he actually started to fall for you, and that was when you had found out about his guess blocking. The sheer awe on your face had made the male incredibly uncomfortable for a moment, until you began telling him how cool he was, how amazing he was. 

He was a goner after that. 

Tendou started to notice a change in you recently, the lingering stares, the extra touches, the newfound nervousness and blush that you always seemed to have around him when it was just the two of you.

Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but he had hoped that you felt the same way, that you returned his feelings.

After earlier tonight when you had jumped into his lap… well, maybe his hunch was right. 

By the time everyone had retired to their tents it was already incredibly late, and for some reason you couldn’t sleep at all. You sighed loudly as you tossed around in your sleeping bag before deciding to take a trip to the bathroom.

You hadn’t even registered what time it was as you started walking back to your tent, but suddenly the story that Tendou had told earlier fluttered into your mind, causing your body to break out in a cold sweat.

Wasn’t… Wasn’t it around this time that the girl in the story would go out looking for her shoe?

Your heart was racing in your chest as you started walking faster towards the team’s campsite, suddenly hyper aware of every noise around you.

That’s when you heard it, a loud rustling noise that caused you to pause. You slowly turned to look behind you and a tall figure could be spotted with the soft glow of your phone that you were using for light.

You screeched loudly and started running, you could hear thundering footsteps behind you, causing you to run faster. 

You weren’t athletic, you hated running, which was why being a manager was a great position for you.

But this was life or death, so of course you ran, you ran past the campsite without even realizing it until you were incredibly far out. Your body slowing down as your lungs screamed for oxygen and your legs burned with the need for rest.

You leaned against a tree, panting loudly as you gulped down lungfuls of air. But then something touched your back causing you to screech once again; your body squatted down, your hands hugging the tops of your head as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. 

“I-I-I don’t have your shoe!” you cried out, fat tears rolling down your face, your entire body trembling in fear. “Please don’t eat me!”

“Y/n-chan.” a familiar voice spoke out and then large warm hands gently grabbed at yours, attempting to pull your hands away from your face.

“Tendou-kun!” You sobbed out, reaching for the redhead, you gripped the front of his shirt tightly as you pressed your face into his chest, his familiar scent and body heat eased your racing heart.

You weren’t sure how long you were in this position for, but eventually your tears had dried and your heart resumed its normal beat.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” he said quietly. “For the story and earlier, I went to go get a bottle of water and I saw you walking back but before I could say anything you screamed and ran off.” 

“T-That was you?” you hiccuped.

“Yeah. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you that bad.” he laughed sheepishly. 

“It’s okay Tendou-kun… I’m just glad it was you and not something else.” You shivered at the thought, causing his grip on you to tighten. “Maybe no more scary stories for the rest of the trip, or at least not while I’m still up.” 

“No problem Y/n-chan. I didn’t know you could run that fast, it was pretty impressive.” He laughed again. 

A soft smile began to form on your lips, you couldn’t help it, his laugh had warmed you to the core, it left your heart at ease.

The safety that you felt being around Tendou was the best feeling.

“We should head back now… are you okay to walk?” Tendou asked, carefully helping you up.

“Yeah… oh here.” You handed him your phone so that he could use the flashlight, making the journey back a bit easier.

It was then that you noticed why you didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was down.

A soft flush coated your cheeks, he was incredibly handsome with his hair down. You had never seen him like that before, his usual spiky hair was something that you were completely used to, but this… this was making your heart race once again, only this time, it was for an entirely different reason.

“Y/n-chan… can I tell you something before we get back to camp?” Tendou asked awkwardly, his steps halting.

“Sure, what is it?” You stared at him in curiosity.

This was it. He was going to confess, he had to. He couldn’t take it anymore, and the way that you clung to him… the way that you made him feel, well, this was it.

He sighed deeply before his large hands rested carefully on your shoulders, he peered down at you with serious eyes and it made your heart quicken even further. 

“I like you Y/n-chan. A lot. I’ve liked you since the first day you became manager. I understand if you don’t return my feelings but… I just wanted to tell you before it was too late.”

You looked away from his intense gaze, you vaguely wondered if he could hear your racing heart, it felt like it was about to pop out of your chest.

He confessed.

Tendou liked you.

“Tendou-kun…” your voice was incredibly soft, your hands coming up to gently rest on top of his big ones. You gazed up at him through your lashes, a shy expression overtaking your features. “I like you too…”

Tendou’s eyes widened in surprise, now it felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest, but then warmth seeped into his body. A wide grin overtook his features and he couldn’t help but gaze you with adoration and complete happiness.

“Let’s go on a date after the training camp is over Y/n-chan!” He stated loudly, and then began to tug you along back to the site. His long fingers easily intertwined with yours, your linked hands began swinging back and forth between your two bodies.

You had never been happier.

“My girlfriend is the cutest, we’ll go on a cafe date.” You heard Tendou begin to sing, his pointer finger waving in the air as he hummed happily to himself.

Maybe scary stories weren’t so bad after all.

[livinghostly]

oogies!

sokka x reader

not my gif!

words: 2119

request/summary: sokka gets the oogies around aang and katara, but you have a feeling it's something more than that.

a/n: sokka bby i love u

it started months ago, when you first had been recruited into the gaang. you knew katara and aang were close, but you wouldn't have noticed the romantic tension between them if it wasn't for sokka.

at first he didn't acknowledge it so much, the occasional eye roll here and there. then, it all became too much for him to bear: the longing glances, always taking each other's sides, constantly having to be around each other or else panic mode would ensue.

"you guys are giving me the oogies," sokka said offhandedly, crossing his arms.

huffing, katara stomped her foot. "sokka, would you stop that?"

his total disgust towards the couple bothered you some, only because you liked him. it was a feeling you couldn't shake, a constant flutter in your chest when you looked at him. he was charming and unapologetically himself, always able to draw a smile to your face even if it meant embarrassing himself. he'd been there for you through your hardest times and despite his usual pessimism, he showed you things would always be okay in the end. and he'd be there with you.

"oogies?" you echoed aloud, looking between the two siblings. your eyes landed on aang between them, who seemed to be just as confused as you were.

"aang and katara!" the water tribe pointed a finger accusingly at them. "keep the couple stuff to yourself, please."

"we–" katara shook her head, blushing furiously. her eyes were closed tightly so she couldn't see the bashful grin aang had. "we are not a couple!"

you were gathered around a campfire with your friends– except for toph, who was desperate for some sleep after a rough past few days. she retreated to her impromptu tent next to appa. you shared a log with sokka, poking at a fire with a stick you'd found.

sokka reached into the food bag, searching for something other than aang's ridiculous fruits and grains. "do we have any fish? or meat? i'm starving."

from the opposite side of the fire, aang erupted into a nervous fit of giggles. you raised your stare from the flames to see katara's hand placed gently over his, the two of them blushing messes. she smiled softly and looked at the ground.

the midst of a war wasn't a great time for dating, you knew, but at the same time you didn't understand why they refused to confess to each other. their entire relationship was beating around the bush. but you liked seeing them together, they made each other happy. you wanted something like that.

beside you, sokka looked between you, and then the couple, and then back to you. his eyebrows twitched upward with a sudden sadness, but he shook his head to get rid of the feeling.

not noticing his fleeting glances, you looked back to the fire, before throwing the poking stick in front of you. attempting to be subtle, you scooted closer to him. the actions made your cheeks warm.

"nevermind, i think i've lost my appetite," he tossed the bag off to the side with a sudden frown.

you smiled to yourself, watching him cross his arms and scoff at the two. they didn't pay enough attention to him to notice the sudden change in his attitude, but you nudged him softly with your elbow. sokka lifted his head and met your eyes again, so you could see the pout dawning his features.

"you're acting like a child, you know."

"i am not!" he argued loudly.

with a playful smirk, you raised your eyebrows. his defensiveness faltered as he realized he was only proving your point, and he hunched over to hide the blush that was forming.

his volume caught the attention of your friends, averting their gazes from each other with wide eyes.

katara pulled her eyebrows together in concern. "you're not what?"

"not minding his own business," you said casually, holding back a smile. he huffed in annoyance, shaking his head.

"so, nothing new," aang chimed in with a bright grin.

"alright, alright!" sokka cried, throwing his hands in the air. he stood up, and you rolled your eyes at his dramatics. "i'm going to bed, you've officially ruined this fire for me."

he took one step away, and your hand flew out to catch his. you effectively stopped him in his place, and he turned to look at you with wide eyes.

you loosened your grip, but tugged him back towards you. "come on, sokka. we were just joking, don't leave!"

a sense of pride blossomed in his chest, and he squeezed your hand. "maybe i'll come back out when the lovebirds find their nest."

his hand slipped from your grip and he began to walk away, now able to let himself smile brightly. he missed the feel of your hand on his again, knowing he didn't appreciate it enough the first time around.

katara was glaring holes into his back. she called out to him, "you know what, sokka? you give me the oogies!"

"doesn't make any sense when you do it, katara!" he disappeared into his tent.

"it doesn't make any sense in the first place!" she let out a scream of frustration.

after a few days, you and the others moved locations, slowly but surely getting closer to the fire nation. aang found an empty field for your temporary homes, much to toph's liking, a good place to practice earth bending.

aang wasn't as interested in that, though. he wasn't too far down at the beach, with katara. the two of them were splashing around in the water together, creating the biggest waves they could muster and slamming them down on their opponent.

their laughter echoed through the empty field, only to be broken by a frustrated groan from a few feet away.

sokka was leaning against one of the trees bordering the forest, glaring towards the two. he was sharpening his sword, getting more aggressive as time went on. though he knew he caught your attention, he didn't elaborate on his annoyance.

setting down the basket you had, you pulled the sword from his hand, and slid it back into it's holster. "what's wrong, sokka?"

"it's the oogies, they're bringing me down," he drawled with a frown.

you hummed thoughtfully looking at the beach, then turned to him. "you want to come picking berries with me?" you offered, holding out an extra woven basket.

sokka glanced at you, to the basket, back to you. he did that a lot. and he had a landslide of a preference for meat, you knew that, but you also knew he'd rather get away from the campsite if his sister and aang were going to be flirting the entire time.

"i'm the meat guy," he mumbled, mostly to himself. nevertheless, he gently took the basket in his own hand and pushed himself off the tree. a playful grin pulled at his lips, and he leaned into you, "but i guess if you really, really want me to."

"i wouldn't want anybody else," you teased, nudging him softly with your arm. he didn't budge, and you instead knocked yourself into him and staying at his side.

sokka's eyes seemed to light up at your comment, his smile breaking through. all thoughts regarding katara and aang were long forgotten, and he sighed contently as he looked out to the forest. he marched happily, leading the way towards a bush of orange berries.

"y/n, look at these!" he picked the branch off of the bush, holding it out for you to see. they were practically mesmerizing with their color and the strange shape they held. he quickly popped it into his mouth.

you giggled at his excitement. "you know, those could have been poisonous."

horror flashed across his face, and he was instantly spitting it back on to the ground. he threw the broken branch along with it. "are they? poisonous?"

"no."

his expression turned to one of betrayal. if he wasn't the victim of your prank, he would have been laughing. he turned his back to you to find another bush. "that was a cruel joke, y/n."

you were quick to follow him, not wanting to him to stray too far in unfamiliar woods. if sokka slipped into panic mode, things would get ugly. "could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" you asked sweetly, maneuvering in front of him. he turned his head away, holding his chin high so he didn't have to face you.

"no, i don't think so."

falling next to him again, you groaned playfully, giving up easily. instead, you pulled your mouth to the side and analyzed the forest you dragged your feet through. you didn't catch the way he looked at you, watching as your eyes lit up when you spotted another bush.

silence fell between you, the only sounds being his aggressive pulls at the branches and the looming creatures ever-so-slightly running over sticks and leaves in the distance. though you were sure he didn't mind, it bothered you. you had questions, and he was acting as if nothing was wrong.

"so, why do aang and katara bother you so much?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. you kept an eye on him as he inspected a pink berry carefully, and then dropped it into his basket.

"they don't bother me," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you stopped in place with an confused expression, letting your arms fall to your side. "you could've fooled me, all you do is complain when they're together."

sokka's shoulders dropped, and his movements seemed to slow. he picked a purple berry from one of the bushes and began to toy with it in his hand. "i'm glad they have each other, you know, it's just..." he shook his head. "i feel like they're rubbing it in my face sometimes. like a reminder i'm not going to have that with..."

"oh." you felt your stomach sink, and pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment. "is it because you miss suki?"

"what? i don't miss suki. not like that, anyway."

"yue?"

"no, y/n–"

"are you talking about that one girl from the earth kingdom vill–"

"no!" sokka squeaked. he was blushing furiously, and had nearly poured all the berries out as he fumbled the basket in his hands. he tried to bring his voice down to it's normal octave, "it's none of them. it doesn't matter, anyway, the girl want all that stuff with doesn't want it with me. and it's okay."

you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. it was a sucker punch to the gut, depriving you of your composure. "so, there is a girl?"

he took in a deep breath, "yeah– and, and she's great. i mean, we've been through a lot together and looking back on everything– i can't imagine being without her." he shook his head, finding a tree stump to sit on. "but i can't have with her what aang has with katara. she doesn't like me like i like her."

setting your basket down, you sat next to him. he was playing with the handle nervously with his head ducked down and shoulders hunched, refusing to look at you.

"sokka, what?" you let out a weak laugh, finding what he said unbelievable. "i mean, that's crazy. how could she not like you?"

he stayed silent, and you continued.

"if she really doesn't, then she's not worth your time, sokka. don't waste your energy on unreciprocated feelings, it just ends up draining you–"

"you're the girl, y/n."

you stopped, leaning back just the slightest in surprise. he looked up at you, gently setting the basket on the ground. "me?"

"i didn't want to say anything because i didn't want to mess up our friendship. i thought it would go away after i first met you, but it hasn't. i just– i want to be your friend."

a smile tugged at your lips, "well, i don't want to be your friend, sokka. it seems silly now."

his shoulders dropped further than they were, and he looked in the opposite direction. "i get that. i'll leave you alone, if that's–"

softly, you placed your fingers under his chin and pulled it towards you. before he could ask why, you kissed him. he hesitated, and then kissed you back. he held back his smile as he hand found your cheek.

"y/n, toph and i were wondering if you–" katara stopped herself short, eyes widening in horror as she spotted the two of you. "oh, spirits!"

you broke away from sokka in surprise, pulling his hand from your face and interlocking your fingers instead. your mouth opened, you weren't quite sure what to say, but you could tell she wasn't either. her jaw was agape as she stuttered, processing the whole situation.

she pointed at you. "you guys– you're– oogies!" she smiled triumphantly. "oogies!" she turned around briefly, calling out to your camp. "aang, oogies!"

"you started this," you raised your eyebrows, looking at sokka accusingly. "this is on you."

"you kissed me!"

[nnightskiess]

r e q u e s t : Hi ! How are you ? I’m so sad as to what happened with Naya she was a huge inspiration in my life and It hit me really bad But I want to ask for an imagine where you are Santana’s little sister and you come in to join the glee club and you’re better then Rachel and she starts saying stuff but you pop off on her and Santana backs you up?? If you can, sorry if it doesn’t make sense

                                                             ✫彡

Y/N sat cross-legged on a chair in the back row, texting one of her friends to try and pass the time. Mr. Schuester was late, as always. Her older sister, Santana, walked in with Brittany close behind her. They sat down in the chairs in front of Y/N and turned around to the younger Lopez to engage her in their conversation. 

Their conversation was cut short when a loud clap of hands and an exciting yelp, coming from no other than Rachel Berry, interrupted them. Santana immediately rolled her eyes, knowing she was about to say something stupid again. 

“You guys, I have amazing news!”

Y/N groaned loudly, knowing whatever Rachel had to say would probably only have interest to Rachel herself.

“I just made up my mind on what song I’ll be singing for regionals.” She went to stand in front of the group. If she had paid close attention, she’d seen that not all of them were pleased with her statement. 

“What you’ll be singing?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow when Rachel stared at her for a few seconds. “We can all sing, we’re not your ensamble.”

“Didn’t you see how much everyone loved my solo at sectionals?! I want... I mean, we want that same standing ovation for regionals!” 

“Oh, hell no.”

Puck cleared his throat, looking between Y/N and Rachel. “I kind of think Little-Lopez has a point.” 

“Yeah, why can’t someone else get a solo this time? Sure, you’re an amazing singer but maybe you should give someone else a... chance... for once?” Artie tried to reason with her but his voice slowly died down after seeing Rachel’s disappointed expression.

The girl looked at Y/N for a split second only to see her with her arms crossed and a sneer on her face.

“So I’m taking you guys don’t want to win regionals then? Because we won’t if we’re changing our obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan.” She took a deep breath and scribbled the name of the song down on the whiteboard- Always Starting Over from the musical If/Then.

“Listen here, Berry.” Y/N cocked her head to one side, “That obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan of yours makes us look like your jazz hands, dancing oompa loompa’s who are just there to try and make you look better. Well, Willy Wonka, get this- I’m done being your background furniture that you picked up along the road just because we were free to take and have piss stains all over us.”

Santana whistled proudly at the insult her younger sister had just thrown at Rachel and it earned a few hums of approval from some of the other Glee club members.

Rachel was taken back for a few seconds but regained herself and cleared her throat, “Did you forget the cheering I got after my part? Why can’t you see that that’s exactly what we need to win regionals as well?”

“Ptchh, you should get your facts checked because they weren’t cheering for you. We all know I’m the better singer out of the two of us.” 

Santana crossed her arms and gave Rachel a smirk, knowing who had won this argument. Everyone knew that the sassiness that ran in the Lopez family wasn’t only given to Santana. When it came to that, the two sisters were basically carbon copies of each other.

“That is so out of line! You talk the talk but when it comes to the performance you don’t walk the walk.” Rachel pointed a finger at the younger Lopez sibling and Y/N shot up, her fists balled up in rage. She was about to lounge at Rachel until Mr. Schue walked in.

“What is happening, guys?” 

“Y/N is throwing a spanner in the works of our way to end up on top at regionals.”

Mr. Schue put his bag down onto the piano and eyed the younger girl for a few seconds, silently asking her for an explanation.

Santana rolled her eyes, “Hardiharhar, don’t be so dramatic. Y/N just expressed her displeasure and put her in her place- the lowest of the low in the hierarchy, where she belongs.” She shrugged.

“Santana.” Was all that Mr. Schuester said before turning to Rachel, who pointed to the song written down on the whiteboard. 

“I’ve practiced this song for months and I think regionals is the right moment to finally sing it and show them what I got.” 

He nodded, “Wow, If/Then is a great musical. Are you sure you can handle this song?”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

“Very well then!” He turned to the group, “I think we just found our first song for regionals.” He smiled his goofy smile. Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other before rolling their eyes while Quinn sighed and sank into her chair.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows again and shook her head in disbelief, hoping she didn’t just hear him say that.

“Um...hello?” She waved her arms around until Mr. Schue looked at her. “Okay, good! You do see us! For a second I thought you completely forgot about the rest of us existing.”

Mr. Schue sighed and looked down before eyeing his students, “Listen, I know everyone here works very hard, and each of you has an amazing and unique voice, but for now I think that we should just let Rachel sing the solo at regionals. However, that doesn’t mean that I render any of you unworthy of taking the lead another time. You will all get to sing a part in the second song, I promise.”

“How’s that fair? We didn’t even get a chance to tell you what we would like to sing or show you what we got.” Mercedes spoke up.

“Rachel practices every day. She deserves to sing.” Finn shrugged.

“No one asked you, Finn.” Y/N shot at the boy, who widened his eyes in response. “You don’t have a leg to stand on in this discussion, we all know you will probably get the male lead.”

Y/N then turned back to Mr. Schue. “Everyone knows Rachel is your favourite and I’m sick of it. You treat her like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“That’s not true. I don’t do favourites.”

“Yes, you do. You clearly favourite that vest because it’s all you’ve been wearing for the past two weeks.” Santana shrugged.

Mr. Schuester rubbed his temple. Having to deal with not only one, but two Lopez girls was making him age faster. Especially at times when they let their minds run rampant. 

Y/N crossed her arms. “I signed up for Glee club, not for ‘Sing-And-Smile-In-The-Background-Of-The-Rachel-Berry-Show’ club. Half the time, we’re not even on stage during her songs.”

“Wait, does that club exist?” Brittany mumbled under her breath. 

“Guys, when have I ever steered you wrong? Please, trust me on this.” Mr. Schuester placed his hand on his heart. 

“I think you’re just jealous.” Rachel’s tone was challenging as she sat down next to Finn. 

Y/N shot up again.

“Yes, you might know how to sing, but you’ll never be able to leave the audience as impressed as I ever will.” 

Santana now shot up as well.

“Qué acabas de decirme?” (What did you just say to me?)

Both girls made a move to lounge at Rachel but Quinn, Mike and Sam held them back. They struggled to do so while Y/N threw all the Spanish insults she knew at the girl in front of her.

“Enough!” Mr. Schuester tried but his voice didn’t stand out in the chaotic yelling. He sighed before clearing his throat.

“I want you both out.” He directed to the two sisters.

“Now!” 

Everyone fell silent and it seemed to do the trick. Y/N slowly turned to him. Mr. Schue had a stern look on his face while he glared at the siblings. He kept pointing at the door. 

“Fine.” Y/N grabbed her backpack, waited for Santana to dust herself off and grab her belongings too.

“You know what? I could use a break.” Santana huffed as both of them walked out of the room. Their heads held high, no dignity lost over what just happened.

They walked to the football bleachers where Santana immediately lit up a sigaret. 

“Do you think he kicked us out... permanently?” 

It was times like these, when it was only the two of them, where Y/N still depended on her older sister. 

“Maybe.” Santana shrugged her shoulders, “If he can’t appreciate having you in the club then that’s his loss.”

Santana gave Y/N  a playful nudge with her shoulder when the younger Lopez still seemed deep in thought. Y/N looked up to see Santana’s soft smile and she immediately sent her a goofy smile back. 

“They can’t go to regionals without us. And if they do find a way, we’ll just have to start our own Glee club, huh?” She smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long before Mercedes is sick of it as well.” She comforted her little sister.

“Yeah, but what will we do in the meantime?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, wanting Y/N to elaborate.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this- but I actually really like Glee club and I was pretty excited for regionals.”

Santana nodded, “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes when you sing.” She took another drag of her sigaret. “Between you and me, I enjoy singing in Glee club as well.” 

Y/N nodded softly and brought her legs close to her body so she could let her chin rest on her knees. 

“San?” 

Her sister hummed in return.

“Was Rachel right?” She looked up at Santana, “Am I really not giving that good of a performance?” 

“Baby, no.” Santana gave her a stern look, telling her not to go there. “You might’ve only done one couplet by yourself so far... but even in the songs where you sing background vocals, you manage to outshine the rest.”

“But there must be a reason why I haven’t got the chance to lead a song yet.”

“Yup. And that reason is Rachel, dwarf, Berry.” Santana shrugged. “You know I’d tell you if you sucked.”

Y/N laughed at that, Santana so would.

“If Mr. Schue isn’t letting us show him what we got, then we have to come up with another way to get through that head of his how capable you are of leading a song.” 

Santana suddenly stood up, put out her sigaret with her shoe and motioned for Y/N to take her hand.

It was a few days later and neither Santana or Y/N had attended Glee club after what happened on Monday. Rachel had made herself very clear to Y/N that she was very disappointed in her since Y/N’s jealousy caused the club to not be able to partake in regionals. Brittany had tried convince the two girls to join Glee club again with a clumsily, selfmade powerpoint and even Finn had kindly asked them to reconsider going back. But they simply couldn’t, at least not just yet.

But now that it was Friday, everything was ready to go. 

The two Lopez girls decided to wait a few minutes until everyone was present before they walked into the room. Mr. Schue stopped talking and turned around, a disappointed look on his face.

“We’re not here for a pity-party and we’re definitely not walking in with our tails tucked between our legs,” Santana started as a few band members shyly shuffled their way into the room, instruments in hand. 

“We just want to show you that we are fully capable of leading a song.” Y/N spoke as she shoo’d everyone to the side. 

“Hit it.”

[glee performance of tina turner’s ‘river deep, mountain high’, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82lYMlXB-fI ]

Rachel seemed unsettled during the performance, clearly noticing how everyone else was enjoying the two sisters sing. Mr. Schue, who had seem hesitant at first, was now visibly entertained and impressed and had already long forgotten what happened a few days earlier. Rachel sunk further into her seat when she noticed that. 

Everyone knew the Lopez girls both had beautiful voices, but that they would sound so well together was news to them all. Mr. Schue now realised what a shame it was that he had never explored letting different kids sing together, and that all his attention had always been on the same people.

What topped the performance off, was the excitement in the sisters’ eyes. They were clearly having fun with the song and their minds seemed to have no memory of why they originally decided to perform. It was just them and the music they danced and sang along to.

But when the band played the last melodies, they suddenly seemed to remember and turned back around to the group with proud smirks on their faces.

On the last note, Santana held her hand up for her sister to high five.

Everyone started clapping and Mr. Schuester stood up, walking up to them.  

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” He gave Y/N a pat on her shoulder. “Now that is how you sing a song! Well done!”

Rachel silently clapped along. She would never say out loud how much she had enjoyed their performance.

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but now that I’ve seen this-” Mr. Schue rubbed his chin, “I want to try a different approach at regionals. This is what will get the crowd’s attention!” 

He turned to Rachel, an apologetic look on his face, “Do you mind giving your solo to Santana and Y/N?” 

Rachel shrugged absentmindedly, trying to make it seem like she didn’t care, “It’s healthy to have some competition. It will push me to become a better performer.” 

Mr. Schue nodded and turned back to the Lopez girls. 

“Congratulations, you two. It’s yours!”

Everyone clapped again until Santana spoke up.

“No, no, no. I’m backing out.” 

“W-why?” Confusion was written all over Mr. Schue’s face. “I thought it’s what you two wanted?"

“What I wanted was for you to realise that there are other people capable of leading a performance.” She turned to her sister, who had been confused at Santana’s decision up until now. “People like Y/N, for example. You take it. I know you can do it without me.”

Y/N tried to convince her otherwise, “But you’ve never had a solo either! We should-”

“Uh, uh.” Santana waved her finger, “I want you to take it.” 

The two had a little face off for a few seconds, it was their way of talking to each other without words. Santana cocked her head to the side, knowing Y/N was about to give in.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

Santana smiled widely, grabbed her sister and planted a kiss on her head.

“I’ll always back you up.” 

She winked at Y/N before the two of them went to sit down, ready for today’s Glee club.

[bemybstar]

Saw you write nsfw including daddy/sir & humilliation kinks so if you're still up for requests...May I request smut where Louis and a carnivore!reader have that kind of relationship (with him being the dominant one ofc)? I've always thought it fit with his herbivore complex and that carnivore fetish of his 👀 can be hcs or a one shot, whatever you prefer! I ADORE your work...Thank you so much for sharing it 😭❤

A/N: Yes I am still taking requests since they are still open! Thanks so much for commenting on my writing I really appreciate it!

Pairing: Louis x fem!carnivore!reader (reader can pick the animal they want)

Warnings: Jealous Louis, dom/sub relationship, mentions of daddy kink, reader gets punished, it’s honestly just filth at this point lol.

“Louis? Do you mind helping me with this next part?” You ask politely and await his response. He was busy finalizing scripts for the drama clubs last play rehearsal, since he’s the leader it’s part of his job. “Sorry but I’m busy right now. We can practice in private later.” He says bluntly not even bothering to look you straight in the eye.

You were a member of the dance team and wanted to go over some last minute critiques for the festivals performance. You’d figured your boyfriend would be up to the task of helping you with some new dance moves but you were clearly mistaken. “But I need your advice now or else I’ll forget the entire choreography later,” you whine.

“I already told you I’m busy. Now go be a good girl and ask someone else to help you until I’m done.” He snarls finally locking eyes with you instead of his paper. “Fine!” You huff as you storm out of his office, “I will...”

You scope around the room for a potential partner, all the girls were already in groups or busy stretching after wrapping up. You sigh in defeat, there goes your chances at getting someone’s input. That was until Bill spotted you and headed your way. 

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” The bengal tiger asked you sounding a bit too excited. “I overheard you talking to Louis. That guy can be such an asshole, am I right?” Technically you’d be willing to defend your boyfriend and put Bill in his place, but no one knew you two were dating. So you had to play it cool and act approachable in case others got suspicious. 

“Haha, yeah I guess so,” you comment wondering how much did he actually hear of the conversation, but you push it aside as an idea pops into your head.

“Bill! Do you mind giving me your opinion on my dance number? You know, since Louis is too busy for me and all,” you pleaded with a smile. “Sure! I’d love to help you out. Where should we start?”

“Hmmm,” you think and look around until you found the perfect spot. “How about there?!” You exclaim as he follows your pointed gaze to the corner of the room. He agrees, taking your word for it as you grab him by the hand and walk over together. You place the stereo on top of the shelf and press play before taking a deep breathe.

“And one, two, three. One, two, three,” Bill’s voice echos through you as you take each step with such ease and grace, moving in sync to the rhythm. “Would you mind practicing with me for a little bit?” You ask him before stopping in place as he agrees to your offer.

His hand touches your arm as he stands behind you, raising your wrist a bit higher for dramatic effect. Your figures project on the mirror in front of you, proving just how close you two really are. His muzzle is just above your head as he instructs you on what to do next. You tilt your head to the side and lock eyes with Louis, who has been watching your every move as you intended. The whole purpose of practicing in the corner was because he had left his door wide open, he pretty much had a front row seat to this little game of yours. And he didn’t seem to like it one bit judging from his envious expression.

Bill had taken something that belonged to him and he’d be damned to let it continue any further. You let go of Bill’s hand and thank him for his partnership once the bell rang. “Bye Bill,” you wave off. “Thanks for all your help again.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Anytime,” he says waving back with a sly grin plastered on his face. You hum quietly to yourself and make your way over to Louis’s office, awaiting for what’s in store. He’s sitting across from you, pupils flaring as his eyebrows drew together in vexation. But before you ask him about his well being, he had the upper hand in stirring the conversation.

“What was all that about?” He asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Don’t play smart with me. You knew exactly what you were doing,” he scolds. “I don’t know what’s worse. Your desperate need for my attention or your attempt at toying with Bill’s feelings in order to get what you want...”

You gasp upsettingly and walk straight towards him. “They can’t be all that bad if they managed to get the job done. Just face the facts... you were jealous.”

“Excuse me?” He snaps before getting up from his seat. “You told me I had to find someone else to help me and I did just that. Maybe if you would have listened to me from the beginning, I wouldn’t have resorted to Bill in the first place!”

“And maybe if you acted like a good girl from the start, I wouldn’t have to punish you for it now!” He grimaced through gritted teeth.

“You know what happens when you disobey me, right?” He comes into contact with you, filling the space between you and him. He wraps his hand behind your hip and pulls you in close, bracing your palms against his chest from the forceful impact. Your lips are just inches away from his as he stares longingly at them, eager to give you what you crave once you answer his question.

“Y-Yes Louis,” you whisper lowly. His hand quickly races down your hip and goes straight to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. A warning. A mistake on your end, it wasn’t the answer he had grown to expect from you. “Yes. What?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper correcting yourself. “Mmm, that’s more like it,” he drags and mashes his lips against yours. This kiss isn’t sweet, but fueled with fire and pent-up anger. He’s fast enough to show you that he really wants you but at the same time stands his ground, proving to you that’s he’s in control. He leaves your lips and moves to your neck.

“This doesn’t... this doesn’t change the fact that I’m still mad at you for ignoring me,” you breathe raggedly, screwing your eyes shut at his mouth works wonders on your neck. He had a knack for knowing your weak spots. He then removes your shirt as you place your hands up and toss it to the side. Your bra comes off next as he unhooks it from the back and let’s it drop to the floor. You pull down your red shorts next as to get it over quicker for both of you.

“Stay still...” he orders to the sofa chair in front of you, propping your hands down on the arm rest to gain balance. He strips off his suspenders, loosens his tie, and pulls up his shirt placing it with the rest of the pile on the wooden floor. You spread your legs wide enough so he can get a better look at you, your fully exposed to him in this moment, it’s moments like this he enjoys most. The intimacy was unlike anything either of you had experienced in the past. It’s as if the roles were reversed, you were his prey and he your predator when it came to your sex life. Neither of you felt weak or overpowered because in those moments you were one in the same. Two animals in love, with the same hopes and desires of sharing that love.

“If it’s too much for you let me know,” he’s referring to your punishment as you give him a quick nod indicating you understood. “Good, now count.” He smooths over your fur before giving it a smack, automatically making you count up to your limit. “T-Ten...” you wince from the last one sinking your claws into the fabric as a reflex. By the time Louis was finished, your ass was red and stinging from soreness. “You take your punishment so well for me, baby. But I’m still not done with you yet...”

You hear the sound of a zipper coming undone and the thud of a belt dropping soon after. He takes out his cock and strokes it softly before grinding himself against your fold with his tip. He’s such a tease... you say to yourself. “If you think you really deserve this, then beg.”

“Please!” You shout a little too loudly mainly out of desperation. Your body can barley take it anymore at this point. “I want your cock buried deep inside my pussy. I want you to fuck me senseless until I’m dripping with cum. I—“

Before you can finish Louis slams himself into you, filling you up just the way you needed, the way you’ve been craving. He holds you steady from behind as a way to guide his erotic movements. Rocking into you with his hips little by little, setting up a steady pace before picking it up faster than before. You move up and down his length, getting wetter as each second passes. “F-Fuck Y/N,” he hisses as he continues to savagely thrust into you.

“D-Don’t stop...” you mewl out breathlessly. Your eyes roll back barley able to see straight, as he rams into you harder than before as each time passes. “I-I’m gonna cum, please can I cum?”

Louis grunts before giving you permission to do so. His thrusts become sloppy and messy meaning he’s on the verge of climaxing right along with you. After a couple seconds, you release with a scream of his name as he follows shortly after. His warm cum spurts inside you, filling you up to your core as his liquid pours down your thighs. You gasped as you try to catch your breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as pure exhaustion took over your body. You plop face down on the sofa cushion to regain your strength as you were too exhausted and overwhelmed to move.

Louis puts his clothes back on and excuses himself, giving you a chance to relax. He returns shortly after from the males locker room with a warm towel in hand. You moaned as he ran the smooth material along your body, slipping it between your legs to clean up the cum and sweat dripping out of you. You thank him with a kiss and begin to dress yourself back to your usual state as he waits by the doorframe.

“Now, come on. I believe I owe you a dance lesson...”

———

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