#hiram stolowitski x reader

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Playing Ball pt. 5 - Defection and Resurrection

A/N: Soooo, I said this would be out last night – that was before I knew debates would run an hour late and the ignorant cishet on the team would irritate me to all ends. But here it is!

Part One |  Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five (You are here!)

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma.

Summary: After the short stop's gone, the team seems to thrive – all but one member, that is.

Warnings: Them feels, gay, mild language, gay, butt smacking, gay, and did I mention there's a bit of gay in here?

Word Count: 2,688.

Other Notes: Female reader. Post-Terminal, pre-Spike.

Team captain Y/N Claybourne had a nice ring to it, that you'd admit.

But the way in which it was getting you unwanted attention that you hadn't experienced since Chance checked himself into a mental hospital? Not as nice a ring.

Apparently, it came with the same social status as the previous captain's had, considering you were the reason for her being kicked off the team – something she had taken by whipping off her jersey and throwing it at the coach before storming off the pitch in a sports bra.

Despite it all, you felt a little bit bad – no matter how many people she had been responsible for having kicked off the team, nobody deserved to be a social outcast among the students with more money than sense of Bolton Prep.

Not to mention how you'd found Sarah the other day.

“I'm… fine, Claybourne.”

You narrowed your eyes down at her. “You're the ground outside the pitch holding – is that the jersey that Lee-?”

“What? No, of course not!” she responded, awkwardly shoving it behind her back and making it almost too obvious.

“Are… are you crying?” you asked awkwardly.

“If I was crying, I'd be crying tears of pain at seeing your face.”

In spite of her attitude, you crouched by her, putting a hand on her leg. “Mind sharing?”

“I don't want to talk about this, especially not with you-” Sarah tried to get up but your grip only tightened.

“Why did you like her?”

“Oh, don't pretend I was in love with the bitch for any rational reason,” she retorted, before sobering. “I guess I'm even more pathetic than that.”

“It doesn't make you pathetic.”

She glared. “What makes someone pathetic? Because news flash, Claybourne – if I found anyone crying over their unrequited love who hurt so many people, I'd tell them to get up and stop being pathetic.”

Sarah looked up at the sky, falling back and lying now on the grass, taking long brown hair out of the hair tie that had held it up in a fluid motion and letting it splay around her head.

“You wouldn't know what it's like. You've crushed on, what, one actually decent guy ever, and now you've been dating him for years.”

“Sarah, I-”

“Fuck off, Claybourne.”

Shaking your head to clear it of your thoughts, you grabbed your bag, glancing around to see if Chance was nearby before throwing it down the stairs and sliding down the banister after it.

(There were, most definitely, perks to living in such a large mansion).

When you got to the bottom, he was holding your bag with a disapproving look.

“You're going to break your neck.”

“In my defense, I didn't think you would catch me.”

“Not the right answer.”

“Um… I didn't break my neck?”

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

“Yes, sir.”

He followed you out the door, locking it behind him, before putting the keys in the ignition and asking conversationally, “You still suspended?”

“No, not anymore,” you answered, shaking your head with a slight smile as you realized that Chance didn't know about your recent promotion yet.

“Oh, really?” he asked, turning out of the driveway. “Did he lift it early, then? Or was there another game I didn't know about?”

“Well, the new team captain got her suspension lifted after the old one was kicked off the team,” you answered, smirking as he slammed the brakes at a stop sign he'd almost missed.

Breathing heavily, Chance asked, “You're team captain? Since when?”

“Oh, I don't know, two, three days ago? When I made a case against Delilah and the coach finally saw reason?”

“And you didn't tell me?”

“Must've slipped my mind.”

Your brother nodded slowly, before reaching into his bag and pulling out an envelope. “This came for you yesterday, by the way.”

You took the offered letter as he parked the car in front of the school, staring at the handwriting that, though you'd so rarely seen it, you'd recognize anywhere.

Opening the door and getting out with your bag, you ripped it open and took out one of the sheets, folded in three, feeling a tidal wave seem to rise in you as your emotions struggled to get the better of you.

Y/N,

Captain of the softball team even though I never saw you with a glove in your hand. If it's not from the Claybourne side, perhaps it's from your mothers – both the athleticism and your determination to succeed. She always was a driven one.

I've never been so glad that you have the Claybourne name.

He hadn't signed it, perhaps because signing it off with his name made him seem so distant and yet the two of you were never close enough that he would have felt comfortable referring to himself as your father… and yet, even if he'd never been your father, not really, you'd always wanted him to notice you.

It was always Chance this, Chance that, the eldest son capturing your father's attention.

Now, you were receiving the same affection and you didn't know how to deal with it.

The words blurred together as tears came to your eyes.

You'd done it.

You'd finally made him proud.

So why didn't it feel better?

Because Chance pushed you to it, you realized. Even when you could finally make him proud, it was always him behind the scenes.

When would you make a choice, alone, that he might be willing to put the Claybourne name on?

As your emotions overwhelmed you, you felt the switch inside of you flip.

Great. Flaring in public. This is a great day.

“Y/N!” called out Ben, falling into step beside you, black t-shirt and jeans making him stand out amongst the uniforms that the students were wearing.

“Ben? What're you doing here? Did you forget you'd graduated?”

He shook his head, before scrutinizing you more closely. “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course I am.” Managing to snuff out the flare, you continued, “Never been better. Morning, Lily.”

“Morning!” she greeted cheerfully as you walked past her on the way to your locker.

“See? I'm great.”

“Saying good morning to someone doesn't make you okay,” he responded, before adding, “I'd know” under his breath.

Coming to your locker, you put down your bag and turned to him. “What're you doing here?”

“I came to congratulate you on the captaincy, but now I see that I need to talk to you about whatever's in that letter. Who's it from, Y/N?”

“My dad,” you answered reluctantly.

“And?”

“And he's proud of me.”

Ben held up your backpack as you zipped it shut, asking, “Well, who wouldn't be?”

“You don't get it, Ben, he's… he's never like this. Not when it comes to me.”

“Why are you feeling like this, then?”

“You're one to talk about feelings, Benjamin Blue.”

“That doesn't answer the question.”

“No, it doesn't,” you acknowledged begrudgingly. “It's just… he's always been proud of Chance, you know? And Chance made me do this. In a way, it's just like he's proud of Chance all over again. I – I know it seems silly-”

“Chance didn't get Delilah Lee kicked off, now, did he? Or was it him that set up the cameras in the supply room, him that spoke to the former pitcher who was doomed from the start, him that never gave up even when suspended?”

“You… know about all that?”

“Oh, please, just because I'm graduated doesn't mean that those three don't constantly talk about you. Speaking of which, text me sometime, would you?”

He ruffled your hair and squeezed your shoulder, and you smiled as he walked away, going to replace the sheet in the envelope but finding another paper in there.

A clipping from the school newspaper, the headline reading 'With Lee Defected, A Team Resurrected?'; a picture that you didn't remember being taken of you at bat.

Underneath the picture, where the caption identified you, there was no writing – only a double underline under the name “Claybourne”.

And in spite of yourself, you clutched the letter and the clipping a little closer to your chest before putting them away.

“Having a social life is exhausting,” you bemoaned, letting your face fall onto the cafeteria table.

Tory poked your arm, moving an exaggerated foot back when you growled. “By God, the woman's an animal!”

“Aren't we all?” asked Hi, causing you to kick him under the table. “A wolf on the streets and a wolf in the sheets!”

“Hi.”

“Please remove me from this place if you exist, Jesus-”

“Some of us are Jewish, Shelton-”

“Jewish or not, you're all a mess,” cut in Jason, putting his tray on the table. “Losers. Tory.”

“I'm included in losers now?” You glanced up, adding, “I could destroy you. At least, that's what my new social status seems to say. Hit me up with a fry, Taylor, and I might forgive you.”

He rolled his eyes but nonetheless held the cup out to you, adding, “I believe you're too tired from upholding your social life to destroy me.”

“I'm never too tired for vengeance,” you retorted, taking two fries instead of the promised one and almost laughing at his mock outrage. “Oh, sit down.”

You hadn't lied – all the talking to people that you'd done since they talked to you and you didn't want to be mean, the fact that you had to pretend to care when one of the girls had asked you for relationship advice and your answer was largely bullshit considering the fact that you hadn't really been listening probably evident, but apparently not to her.

The day finished, you finally walked into the house after both the long school day and the softball practice that had run for two hours, sighing with relief as you threw down your-

“Don't leave your bag in the middle of the foyer again.”

Thanks a lot, Chance. You begrudgingly moved into the dining room, freezing as you noticed the smell in the room coming from what was in the center of the table.

“Chance?” you asked hesitantly, dropping your bag in the middle of the dining room – it wasn't the foyer, after all. “Why did you buy roses?”

“What?” His shadow shifted in the kitchen as he added, “I didn't.”

“Then… what are these doing here?”

“Oh, those? They're from Jason.”

Wait, Jason Taylor?

“Hold on a minute, what?”

Your half-brother entered the room, leaning against the wall as he ate a banana. “They're from Jason. Taylor, that is.”

You blinked.

“What the holy fuck?”

Since when does he buy you roses? Are you dating? Since when?

You realized it should have been obvious – hell, Jason had almost said just a short while ago that he and Jason were more than friends, quickly catching himself and correcting it to “more than you know”.

“I was under the impression that you knew,” he added. “There was that one time the other month when you asked where I was going and I said on a date?”

“I – I thought you were being sarcastic!”

“Two weeks ago, you asked why I was smiling and I said I was back from a date.”

“Again, thought you were joking.”

“When I texted you and said I was staying the night at Jason's house?”

“I thought you were friends-” You blanched. “You mean that you were having sex? That's nasty! Weren't his parents home?”

Oh, wait. He'd hosted a party that day because his parents were out of town.

Of course.

“Oh, my god. You're… dating Jason. He's gay. You're gay!” You walked back and forth, trying to make sense of it all.

“Bisexual, actually.”

“The two of you had sex! You said I couldn't stay the night on Morris the other day because you were afraid Hi and I would have sex!” you cried, turning on him.

“I'm allowed to have sex, for God's sake, I'm a consenting adult!” He turned into the kitchen, shaking his head.

“You can't control who I sleep with.”

“I don't want you to end up like your mother!”

“Don't you dare insult my mother, at least my mother is alive!”

Anger rose in you, a spark igniting as you eyes changed color, but your blood chilled when he turned around, dark blue eyes meeting.

His expression shifted and tone dropped as he murmured, “You too?”

The silence took over the room, tension having been cut through by the realization that both of your flares had returned, and a sob rose in your throat as you moved quickly across the room, finally falling apart in his arms.

“It didn't work,” he murmured. “I thought it might just have been me, but-”

“It's everyone.”

“Including Cole and Ella?”

“I wouldn't know, I don't talk to them. Then again, sometimes I don't know things about people I do talk to.”

“I'm not sure if you're referring to the flare or my relationship status.”

“Does dad know?”

He froze.

“I sure as hell hope he doesn't.”

“And if he did?”

He sighed deeply, his chest dropping with a shudder. “I'd probably be rewritten out of the will, to be honest.”

“What, it's not like he has any other heirs.”

“He has you, Y/N.”

Oh, right. “You think he'd choose me over you?”

“Knowing him? Probably.”

“You think I wouldn't cover you?”

Chance laughed. “I can't answer that, honestly.”

You hit his chest. “Asshole.”

“Is that a no?”

“Of course not.”

“It's the bottom of the ninth inning, and the Griffins are on their winning streak – if they win this game, they take home the championship! We are at a tie right now, Claybourne's up to bat, the team captain hits it, it's off, she's off! She's putting a lot of faith in her bat right now considering no man's on base and we have two strikes – she's at first and the ball is into the stands! It's a home run! She's not taking her time as she slides onto second, takes off for third – off third, and she's home! The championship is ours!”

Rolling your eyes at Sarah's commentary, you slid onto the home plate, hopping up while the team flooded onto the field, being hugged by eight different girls at once as the crowd cheered loudly.

During your tenure, your home runs were something of a habit… though, admittedly, you were prone to the accidental flare or two on the field, and this victory had come of one.

“I can't believe you're leaving us,” yelled Lily in your ear, standing on tiptoes in order to be heard. “Do you have to go and graduate? You're brilliant!”

Sarah held her arms open with a smirk. “Look at that, loser.”

You hugged her without a moment's hesitance, grinning. “You're the best commentator. Real career for you there, you know.

“Please. You’re the one who makes the game interesting enough to want to talk about.”

Surrounded by your girl, you realized that the team was about more than victory.

It was about the experiences you had.

Though winning never hurt.

“Wow, babe, you got dirty out there,” laughed Hi, waggling his eyebrows at the dirt along the side of your uniform and yelping “Assault!” when you smacked him, pulling you close and-

“Did you just whack my butt?” you asked, somewhat bewildered.

“Hashtag no regrets.”

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, “Stop using hashtags in verbal conversations!” “Hashtag can't stop won't stop.”

“Hi.”

“Fine, fine, I'll stop. But only for the beautiful girlfriend that I'm entirely too lucky to have, who is smart, strong and I can't think of a word that starts with 's' for kind but if I could I'd say it!”

“You're a dork.”

“Your dork,” he corrected, before whacking your butt again.

“Hi!”

“It looks so good in that uniform, though!”

“Oh, shut up.”

He leaned down, grabbing you around the waist.

Your arms flew around his neck by instinct as he kissed you insistently, yet slowly – passionately, yet sweetly – quickly, yet seeming to last forever.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, lips leaving yours to trail kisses on your exposed neck.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

A/N: This series is done! Next series is called Spring Into Action, which’ll be some interesting shit. Thanks for reading!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #ben blue #tory brennan #chance claybourne #jason taylor #chanson #chance x jason #shelton devers #female reader insert #okay y'all should know #that chanson is french for song #and i think that chance x jason is beautiful #hmu and i'll tell why #thanks for reading yo! #i love you so much #i loved this so much #it only took hours #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Playing Ball pt. 4 - Eavesdropping and Shortstopping

A/N: This took forever, I'm so sorry, school and new meds have been catching up to me! Luckily this is a fairly good-sized baby. ^-^

Part One |  Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (You are here!) | Part Five

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma.

Summary: It's not just a challenge to the team any longer. It's a challenge to your pride and morals, and it's time to take a stand – once and for all.

Warnings: Mild language.

Word Count: 3,050.

Other Notes: Female reader. Post-Terminal, pre-Spike.

Suspended.

There weren't enough words to describe the numerous ways it made you feel, lying on the grass while you fiddled with a softball, outdoors with Shelton, Hi, Ben and Tory.

Were you embarrassed? Of course.

After all, you'd finally stood up to the person who had been tyrannizing your entire team, and been shut down, with her receiving no repercussions.

It was humiliating, and the way your coach had talked down to you afterward certainly didn't help.

Blaming it on female hormones? Coward's way out.

While Delilah had suffered a broken nose, you had suffered a broken image – a blow to your pride, and a severe detriment to your respect from the team.

Or, at least, so it would seem, considering none of them – not even Sarah – had reached out to you after the incident, mysteriously silent and, if choosing any side, staying on hers.

Of course, that wasn't to say that you weren't infuriated – why did she get to go off scot-free? Why was everyone pretending she didn't say anything?

What had Delilah done to make everyone so scared of her?

“Y/N? You okay?” asked Shelton, glancing over at you concernedly. “You've been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, tossing the ball in the air and yelping as it came down and hit you in the nose.

Cautiously coming closer, the older boy nudged you. “Hey. Have you eaten anything today?”

You tried to think back. “I… think so?”

“Y/N.”

“No, no I haven't.”

Grabbing his bag, he reached into one of the pockets despite your (admittedly feeble) protests, pulling out a granola bar. “Eat.”

“But-”

“Listen, I know you're upset about being suspended.” Shelton's eyes met yours, and you weren't quite certain whether his expression was sympathetic or scrutinizing. “It's ridiculous and entirely unfair that because you responded with physical violence, her verbal abuse is being ignored. I know you're sick and tired of being lectured on it. But it's not the end of the world, I promise.”

“I didn't say it was the end of the world,” you argued, begrudgingly taking a bite of the proffered snack. “I didn't even say anything.”

“Oh, please, we've known each other, what, four years now? I think I have a slight idea of what's on your mind by now.”

You huffed.”Am I expected to know what you're thinking now?”

“What? No, of course not. Nobody's allowed to know what I'm thinking. That's what makes me so interesting.”

He slid away, leaving you with a granola bar in your hand and, despite your upset, a smile on your face.

You shouldn't have let her get to you. That you knew.

You've already been suspended. Why isn't that enough for you to learn your lesson?

And yet, here you were, flaring in public during lunch on the day of an important game which you wouldn't be a part of.

Even your common sense was currently being drowned out by the screaming of every nerve in your body – screams of how good it felt to finally let go, the relief now sung by the same veins pumping you full of adrenaline.

“I can't lose this,” hissed a feminine voice, piercing the conversational buzz of the cafeteria yet unrecognizable, even with the range you could pick up. “You know without it I'm nothing.”

“So, this is your plan? Sabotage everyone and make it seem like you're the only one who can play so that you're captain and the team fears you?”

Sabotage? It sounded for certain like a certain someone, but… “Look. If I'm not on top here, I'm vulnerable. And if I can't keep this, there's no telling what they'll do to me. After the first time I did it, I became something to be feared. And speaking of which… Reyes has been getting cozy with Claybourne lately.”

“What're you planning, Lee?”

Lee.

Delilah Lee.

You choked on your lunch as you heard the two girls converse. No wonder so many people are off the team so suddenly. This way no one could get in her way in being the next captain. One decent player after another mysteriously quitting or getting kicked off the team.

Ignoring the activity at the table around you, you listened further to attempt to hear what she was planning.

“How are you going to sabotage a catcher?”

“Easy. Loosen a few screws, mess around a little, suddenly the face mask won't stay down... and one can't exactly play if their face is crushed by a ball, now, can they?”

“What makes you think she'll get hit?”

“A little distraction. It's about the message, not the impact. I'll see if I can get in the supply shed before practice tomorrow.”

Did she really just share her plans in the middle of the cafeteria? you thought to yourself as Tory snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“As I was saying, Y/N, we should really...”

You were nodding, but you weren't listening, wondering how you could convince your coach of what would transpire.

“Sarah,” you called out, jogging a little to catch up with her.

She didn't appear to have heard, walking faster.

“Sarah! Get back here!” Was she ignoring you? “Sarah Reyes!”

Finally, she stopped, letting you fall into step beside her. “Claybourne. You're not gonna punch me?”

“What? No, of course not. Why would I do that? I like you. You're a good person.”

“So's a lot of folks who've received worse.”

“What's gotten into you?” You quickened your pace to walk in front of her, before stopping as the taller girl tried to get around you. “Why're you being so… frigid?”

“Frigid. Seems artistic. Smart words. Smart person. Guess you're brains and brawn.”

“What did I do wrong?”

She glanced around, before pulling you into a classroom. “You want to know what you did wrong? You went against everything I told you. You got on her bad side, even though I told you to stay neutral. You went and made her look bad, and then, like an idiot, you decided to punch her. Now the goddamn girl has a broken nose, and she's never been so volatile!”

“What does it matter to you?”

“What's it matter? It's not like I'm on the team or anything.”

“Sarah, I… She's going to try and sabotage you. Next game. She doesn't like-”

“That I talk to you.” Sarah smiled, what was supposed to be a gesture of happiness instead coming off so ironic it was almost humorous. “Thanks for the warning, Claybourne.”

She left, ignoring your calls and slamming the door behind herself with a slam that seemed to shake the whole room.

What have I done?

“Hey, coach,” you spoke, leaning against the doorframe of his office.

He glanced up. “Ah, Claybourne. Last I checked you were suspended. Unless for some reason I should put you back on the team?”

“I… I need to tell you something.”

“Oh? What? That it wasn't your fault? That you didn't mean to? Or that-”

“Delilah Lee has been sabotaging girls on this team since the beginning. I have names, I know that-”

His laugh cut you off.

“Of course, of course. Delilah Lee – the team's captain – who just happens to be the reason you're suspended right now, has been singlehandedly tearing the team apart. She's been doing, what? Making anyone who gets on her bad side leave the team?”

“Y/N, even if I had kicked anyone off the team, I assure you, it has nothing to do with her.”

“But-”

“Is that all? A false accusation without proof?”

“But I can-”

“Come back to me when you have something worthwhile to talk about, Claybourne.”

Lily Aquino – former pitcher, quit the team under mysterious circumstances after having been suspended five consecutive times.

Around the same time, rumors had been spreading around the school that she had slept with Delilah Lee's man.

After ardently denying the incident, however, it had never been proven – or disproven – that anything had actually transpired between the two.

Rumor has it the very person who started up the story was the supposed girlfriend of one of the perpetrators. But at the moment, you weren't focusing on the past.

Now, you were focusing on the present – the person who owned the locker in front of which you stood, who should be getting here about-

“Hi! Can I get to my locker?” The short Filipina girl smiled widely, the picture of innocence in a stark contrast to what she was accused of.

You moved to the side, and her eyes lit up. “Oh, you're Y/N! The new girl on the team, right? I hear you did really good this season. Did you need something?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” you answered simply.

Her eyes widened. “Me? Are you sure? If you've been listening to Delilah I assure you-”

“She sabotaged you, didn't she? Led to your suspensions, despite how hard you tried to keep up your resolve and stick to the team, convinced if you just kept your head down she would leave you alone?”

Pushing up her glasses as she tugged open her locker, Lily murmured quietly, “I don't know what you heard, but-”

“Lily, I'm suspended right now because of her,” you interrupted, and she nodded slowly.

“What do you need? Do you need proof? I don't have any, but I have accounts – she threatened me, said if I didn't back off from her boyfriend she'd have me kicked off, and that I should stop being such a candidate for captain because the position was hers – I'll do anything, just give me the word.”

All of a sudden, she shifted so easily from being on the defensive to on the offensive, slightly chilling considering her size and just how much resentment could be packed into someone so small.

“Will you help me make a case against her in front of the coach?”

Determinedly, she nodded. “Anything.”

Two cameras set up in the supply room surely served as evidence, didn't they?

At least, that was what you thought when you did so, and after having returned to remove them, you grinned.

Thanks to your warning – or at least, so you'd like to believe – Sarah had stayed cautious, and when her mask flew open paid enough attention to be able to immediately close it before anything could happen.

And these cameras, surely, would hold the proof.

An account. A video.

Would it be enough?

You fit the SD card into your computer, double-clicking one of the videos once it loaded and quickly adjusting settings so it would play at twice the speed.

And there she was.

You sat back a moment in amazement, still somewhat disbelieving of the fact that you'd managed to catch this on video.

Of course, the best person you could get to testify against Delilah was the only major candidate for captain – who'd been on the team for just as long a time, and whose word was almost as credible, considering she'd never been sabotaged.

“I won't do it.”

You stared in shock at Sarah, books almost falling out of your hand. “I'm sorry, what?”

“I won't do it. I mean what I said, Y/N.”

“But she's been-”

“You have enough of a case without me stepping in. I don't need to be a part of the reason she gets kicked off the team.”

You stepped closer, trying to discern her expression even as she looked pointedly away from you. “But if she's off the team, you won't need to be afraid any more of her sabotaging you-”

“Sabotage.” She laughed mirthlessly. “That's not what I'm concerned about, Claybourne. Forget it. Carry out your vendetta on your own.”

“What happened to teamwork?” you demanded, as she turned to start walking away.

Sarah froze, slowly rotating to face you again, before hissing, “It's not about the team, Claybourne. If it were, this wouldn't be happening in the first place.”

“Then why won't you testify?”

“Because I love her, damn it!” she shouted, causing you to jump. “Because I'm the damn idiot who's fallen in love with the bad girl, the stupid catcher who honestly thought she had a chance with such a beautiful girl, who looks over her flaws and doesn't want to cause her to lose the only good thing she's got going on!”

“Sarah, I-”

“You know we slept together? Junior year, we got wasted. I don't remember the first time I've slept with anyone, and it was the only time she'd look at me without disgust, contempt, and it's ruined any chance I ever had with her! I'm in love with the villain, okay? So call me a villain myself, sure. I won't do it.”

She stalked off without another word, refusing to turn back, as if hoping you wouldn't notice the fact that she'd started to cry, eyeliner starting to streak her face as she crumbled, the resolve of such a seemingly powerful girl now shed and making her seem like something you'd never have thought of Sarah Reyes as.

Helpless.

“I'm planning on getting Delilah Lee kicked off the team,” you announced, less than a week after what you had overheard, at lunch with Tory, Shelton, Hi and Jason.

The four paused, Jason being the first to speak. “I'm sorry, you're sinking down to her level for your revenge?”

“No, that's not it at all,” you answered, shaking your head with a slight smile. “I've found evidence that she's the reason the team is failing. I'm going to confront the coach with it today.”

“What kind of evidence?” asked Shelton interestedly, leaning forward on his hands.

“Well, let's just say… sometimes people don't check for cameras in the supply rooms when they go and play with helmets.”

Tory grinned. “You're picking up some stuff from us. I like it. Is that why you were talking to Lily the other day?”

“Yep.” Nodding, you turned to Hi, who'd been silent this whole time. “Hi?”

He shook himself. “My girlfriend is beautiful, kind, and a genius.”

Flushing under his praise, you shook your head. “We'll see how well that works out.”

“Videos don't lie.”

“Videos don't lie,” repeated the coach, nodding slowly. “And… she's the reason?”

“She's the reason.”

He looked up at you and Lily, before shaking his head. “She's off the team. You're back on, Aquino. Pitcher. Current pitcher will return to out-field – she was always better there, anyway.”

“And me?” you asked quietly.

He smiled sardonically. “Well, Claybourne, how do you feel about being short stop?”

This was real.

This was happening.

And you'd broken Sarah's heart to do it.

“I can try it.”

All's fair in love and war – and yet love was a battlefield.

“Excellent. I'll tell her the news.”

Was it worth it?

“Now,” called out Sarah as the team flooded the locker rooms after the first practice without Lee, “that Ms Lee is gone, we seem to be in need of a new captain.”

How easily she shifted from falling apart to her newfound composure.

“I nominate Claybourne.”

You froze, shirt over your head, quickly pulling it back down to cover you as all seven of the girls in the room turned to you.

“Wh-what? No, I can't take that on,” you gushed quickly, as Sarah quietly started chanting 'Claybourne, Claybourne.'

“Let's have a vote with what remains of our team!” called out Young. “Ready? All in favor of Claybourne, say aye.”

A resounding 'aye' filled the room, causing you to flush.

“Guys, I joined the team two months ago.”

“You got Lee kicked off the team, that took some will power,” argued Lily.

“You helped! You should be captain, all in favor of Lily-”

“I don't want to be captain,” she laughed. “I'd rather have the very person who broke Lee's nose in charge.”

You shook your head. “How about you, Reyes? You've been playing since freshman year – you're team captain.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just accept the offer.”

Looking around at the eager faces, you finally relented. “Fine. I'll be team captain.”

“Yes! No take backs, you're team captain until your death or graduation. You can take your shirt off now, love.”

“Oh, thanks, I was waiting for your permission.”

Even with the sarcasm, there was no denying the excitement beneath the surface – at the support that your team offered, and at the new future for you under a new leadership.

A fair one, this time.

Now alone in the empty locker room, you pulled out your phone, tapping in Hi's number and almost buzzing with energy as the ring reached you.

"Well, guess who got kicked off the team?" "No babe, did he really... that coach is such a bastard..." "Yeah. I guess it's a good thing that there's a new team captain now." "But I thought Lee was - wait, did she get kicked off? Is Reyes the new captain?" "Lee's off, Sarah's not the captain, though." *dramatic gasp* "You're captain! I'm so proud!"

“Hey, sexy.”

You smirked as you feigned a sad voice. “Well, guess who got kicked off the team?”

The line went silent for a moment before his voice came back on. “No babe, did he really... that coach is such a bastard...”

“Yeah, I guess it's a good thing that there's a new team captain now.”

“But I thought Lee was-” He stopped. “Wait, did she get kicked off? Is Reyes the new captain?”

“Lee's off,” you replied, twisting your sleeve in your free hand, “but Sarah's not the captain.”

A crash seemed to only say that he'd dropped the phone – the very reason why Hi had such a protective case – before a gasp sounded when he picked it back up. “You're captain! I'm so proud!” “It's not a-”

“What're you doing for dinner tonight? No, not important, because now you're coming over to my house. Pizza. Your choice.”

“Are you finally giving me the recipe?”

“What? Never. That, my love, is something I'll tell no one. Not even you. I love you, babe! See you tonight!”

“See you,” you replied, a smile breaking out across your face as you ended the call, before packing up your bag and leaving the locker rooms, turning off the lights and closing the door on the past of the team, looking forward to your new beginnings.

A/N: We got some regret going on here, as well as (as my English teacher would say) some rebirth following death! I'm super excited to announce that the next (and likely final) instalment in this will be up on Friday. Thanks so much for reading! I'm sorry for the wait! Part five is up!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #ben blue #tory brennan #shelton devers #reader insert #female reader insert #oKAY so that's that #i have homework now #and the midweek morris! mustn't forget the excuse to bitch! #hope you enjoy y'all #i'mma rush off now #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Playing Ball pt. 2 - Fielding and Shielding

A/N: This series is getting i n s a n e and you'll never guess what I was up last night at midnight talking about? More ideas for this! So guess what there's more to come. 

Part One | Part Two (You are here!) | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @imaginesbyemma, @writers-block0o0

Summary: After you win your first game of the season, you learn there was someone in the audience you weren't expecting. Chaos ensues.

Warnings: A couple of sexual references, language, and punssss. The reader also considers the prospect of sex in this, I even used the word. Dick jokes.

Word Count: 3,027

Other Notes: Female reader, as per usual, and this is post-Spike. Reader is in senior year, about a month after pt. 1.

Softball was a great stress reliever, you would give it that.

And being forced to do the extra curricular on top of your workload had forced you to manage your time better, something that (though not your favorite thing in the world) had helped a lot when it came to your assignments.

However, that was all practice.

This? Your first actual game of the season?

More stressful than anything.

Pacing back and forth, you struggled to keep yourself in check and not allow the anxiety to overwhelm you, the line you walked slowly wearing a path in the grass.

“Loosen up, Y/N,” advised Sarah, her character bubble gum still being chewed as the first pitch became ever nearer. “You can't go in your first time dry.”

“What?”

“All I'm saying is, relax and you'll enjoy it. It's not all about winning, God knows we ain't won in ages. Good news is, our pitcher hasn't been suspended yet for the mysteriously recurring spitballs that nobody ever finds 'er doing.”

You tilted your head to the side a moment while attempting to comprehend what she had just said. “Spitballs?”

“Listen, dovey. You didn't hear it here, but there's sabotage that goes on with this team.” Pausing, her gum popped dramatically and she didn't even blink. “Watch your back. You're on outfield today. Whatever you do, don't throw for short stop.”

She looked up as a whistle blew loudly. “Time to go.”

Even more uncomfortable than you had been before, you reluctantly followed her to the huddle.

“It's our first game of the season, eighth inning, and our Griffins are down three to six, not that anyone is surprised at this point,” narrated Sarah sarcastically from behind you as the pitcher nervously experimented with the ball. “Ready to bat, Claybourne?”

“As I'll ever be,” you answered nervously.

“Remember. We got a lady on second and one on third. Heads up.”

She signalled the pitcher, whose pitch landed right where you needed it – you hit, and quickly dropped the bat and started running.

Without fully comprehending, you managed to just barely slide onto third base, your two runners safe.

Sarah flashed you a thumbs up from where she was crouched behind the next batter.

5-6.

You could do this.

The next girl – number 48, whose name you couldn't quite remember – stepped up, rotating the bat over her shoulder confidently, before hitting it low, giving you just enough time to run home as she stepped onto first base.

“That's what I'm talking about!” Sarah clapped. “Tied. One inning left. Let's see if we can win this shindig.”

You frowned at her sudden turn around from the earlier pessimism. “But I thought you said-”

“Shhhh. Don't sour this rare moment.”

Taking a seat on the bench, your eyes searched out a familiar face in the crowd, landing on Hi.

When he realized you had seen him, your boyfriend held up a hand and waved eagerly, the other offering a thumbs-up.

Idiot. You'd told him not to come – that it was only your first game of the season, that you probably wouldn't even be playing that much, and that there was a good chance that you would lose – but you should have known he'd come anyway.

Smiling even as the next batter struck out and the inning ended, you set out with a new sense of hope.

You wouldn't let Hi down.

“Aaaaand she's in!” Number 30, whose last name you were about certain was Young, barely managed to get the last point you needed, finishing up the game during the bottom of the ninth at 7-6. “And there we have it! Our fabulous Griffins pull out victorious! It's all Claybourne's fault!”

You blushed at Sarah's praise. “No it's not.”

“Fine. Half of our points are Claybourne's fault!” She ruffled your hair, easily falling into step with you as the team made for the change rooms. “Not bad out there, especially not for your first game. Your running? God speed. Not to mention that fly ball you managed to catch to get Dearborn out on what otherwise would've been a home run. Amazing, even if now she'll bitch about it on Friday.”

“Friday?” you repeated.

“Yep. She doesn't know it yet, but we're going out again. Two months running.” She grinned, before casting you a stern look. “I may like you so far but I will shove that bat so far down your throat if you have a problem.”

“No, no, I'm good with it.”

“There's my pro!” exclaimed Hi, hugging you tightly as you walked out of the change room.

“Even athletes need to breathe.”

“Right, sorry.” He released you with a wide smile. “I don't know too much about softball but based on Wikipedia and my rich history in childhood Wii Sports I'd say your triple saved the game.”

You rolled your eyes. “I told you not to come.”

“Since when do I listen? No regrets. You were awesome out there. You got a ride home?”

“Yeah, Chance will be waiting.”

“Ahh, wouldn't want to keep him waiting. I'll text you. Love you!” He kissed your cheek with a loud, wet smack before jogging off as you repeated the last words back to him.

You walked slowly back to where you Chance had said he'd wait for you in the parking lot.

Curiously enough, he was nowhere to be found when you arrived – only a tall girl leaning against one of the columns, texting.

“Well, I've no clue where you got it from, but you're pretty damn good, kiddo.”

It took you a moment to place the voice.

“Mom.”

The same woman who'd raised you, sent you out to Charleston to stay with your father when she started going through college, and you hadn't seen since.

The same woman who'd had you young because of a drunken one night stand but still raised you, working several jobs and never accepting the help that Hollis Claybourne had offered until you insisted that you wouldn't think any less of her if she finally got her college education and had you stay with your half-brother and father.

The same woman you hadn't seen in almost four years.

Here.

You ran into her arms, feeling yourself begin to tear up. “How did you-?”

“You're so tall. Is that makeup I see? Honey, you've changed so much.”

“You're still taller than me,” you retorted, crossing your arms for just a moment before throwing them around her again. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming out here? I would've, I dunno, made plans?”

“Oh, come on. I wasn't about to miss my favorite daughter's first softball game.”

“I'm your only daughter.”

She pulled you tighter into her chest. “And thank Jesus for that. What's new, honey? We haven't talked in so long. How's the infamous boyfriend? That still going on? Any hormonal changes?” You felt her chest rise in a small gasp. “You hadn't even had your period yet when I sent you out here. Oh, no, you had your first period with nobody but your father and your brother, you poor thing-”

“Mom.”

“Right, right.” Your mom pulled back, holding you at arm's length and looking you over. “I've got my car, I'm driving you home. Don't worry, Chance knows, it's not like I'm abducting you or anything. We'll spend so much time together you'll grow sick of me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Please. As if that's going to happen.”

Holding up a list you had just printed, you carefully stuck wink-eyed stickers onto the calendar in the hallway just outside the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

Without turning, you answered, “Softball practice schedule for the month of April.”

“Seems busy. What do all the other stickers mean?”

You took a step back. “Let's see. We have the little ones with the crossed out eyes and tongue out – the dead ones – for nights on which Chance is supposed to cook. The heart eyed faces are for date nights, happy faces for study sessions.”

“Happy faces?”

“I only have so many emoji stickers!” you huffed in mock exasperation.

“So, you already have dates planned. When do I get to meet this boyfriend of yours?”

You stopped, almost dropping the sticker roll. “You... want to meet him?”

“Honey, how long have you been dating? Since, what, sophomore year? It's been two years and I have no clue what your boyfriend even looks like. Invite him to dinner. Chance knows him, why don't I get to?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean. I guess I have met his parents.” And that was... interesting.

But it would be different if it was with your mother.

Namely because they both love me and they both seem inclined to embarrass me no matter the circumstances.

“I'll cook,” she offered.

“Okay. Fine.”

Grinning, your mom hugged you tight. “Love you, honey. He's Jewish, right?”

“How do you know?”

“I know these things.”

She drifted past, plucking the sticker roll from your hand despite your protests. “What're you doing?”

“Me? I'm taking these away until you, young missy, call up that Hi of yours and invite him to dinner Thursday night.”

“Thursday? That's tomorrow.”

“Want these stickers back?”

You sighed, grabbing your phone off the counter and flipping through your contacts, hesitating over Hi's contact name.

“Don't you dare try and get out of this by calling someone else. Don't make me look over your shoulder.”

Laughing, you finally dialled the number, feeling your heart race as you heard the ringing. “Put it on speaker,” your mother asked, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Do I have to?”

“I don't ask so much, now, do I?” You relented, wincing as Hi's voice came on the phone.

“What's up, daddy?”

“Hi!” Cheeks flushing red, you hissed, “You're on speaker!”

“So? Chance won't kinkshame me.”

“Hi, my mother's in the room.”

The line went silent for a moment.

Then, “I'm sorry, I must have heard you wrong. You mean to say your brother is in the room, right?”

“No, Hi. My mother.”

“Since when is your mother in town?”

“Since yesterday.”

“Cool! Hi Y/N's mom! I'm sure you're a lovely person with a bad taste in men!”

Alarmed, you glanced up to see your mom laughing. “I mean, he's not wrong. Go on, ask him.”

“Hi, do you wanna come to dinner tomorrow?”

“Dinner? You know the way to my heart, babe. And the artist who created my masterpiece will be there?”

Rolling your eyes, you answered, “Yes, my mom will be there. She wants to meet you.”

“Oh.”

You frowned, leaning your head to the side. “You still there, Hi?”

“Yeah, still here, still here. Always here. Always watching, always waiting. You know, we haven't gone to the park in a while. Wanna walk with me tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you answered.

“Great. I'll see you then. Love, you babe!”

“Love you,” you responded almost instinctively, confused. “Wait, are you going to-?”

The call ended.

“Ooooooh, trouble in paradise?”

Taking the sticker roll back, you didn't answer, confused.

What's up with him?

“Hey, babe, how's it going?” asked Hi, kissing you on the cheek as he met with you at your locker.

“Good,” you answered, grabbing your bag and stuffing your textbooks in. “How about you?”

“To be quite honest, I'm rather scared.”

You whipped around so fast that your bag swung and nearly hit him in the face. “You? Scared? And admitting it? What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you running a fever? Where was our first date?”

He laughed. “I'm fine, on our first date you broke up with me, and I'm nervous, really.”

“About what? Something happen?”

“About meeting your mother.”

You surveyed him for a moment. “You're serious.”

“Actually, I'm Hi.”

“You're nervous about meeting my mom.” You almost laughed at the thought. “Why?”

“Why?” Holding open the door to the school, your boyfriend cast you a bewildered look. “Because the girl whom I love and have been dating for over two years just invited me to dinner with the woman who raised her, who I know essentially nothing about.”

“What, and you think meeting your mother wasn't worse?”

“You'd met her before, though!”

“Yeah, once or twice,” you scoffed, glancing around as you crossed the parking lot. “She's really a lot to get used to. My mom, on the other hand, will do whatever it takes to embarrass me. The two of you will get along just fine. She already loves you.”

Hi shook his head. “Okay, look, Y/N, consider it this way. This-” he held his hands about a foot apart “-represents the spectrum of awesome. Let's say this is 1-” he waved his right hand “-and this is 10. Now, Chance lies about here. I'm not giving negative numbers out, but if I was, he'd have earned one. Ben's probably around the middle, Tory a little higher. I give Shelton a solid seven. Coop's probably an eight.”

“Wow. Coop ranks higher than your closest friends. He must be a good boy.”

“He is definitely a good boy.” Hi nodded, before shaking himself to refocus. “Anyway, you sit at a solid ten, only because there's no higher number. Now, I'm probably about a nine. Your mom? Raised you up to a ten, therefore she must also be a ten. Do you see where I'm going with this?”

“No, not at all. Unless you're saying my mom is too awesome for you.”

“That's exactly what I'm saying!” exclaimed Hi, almost walking into a stop sign. “She intimidates me. I made a joke about her taste in men. She's gonna hate me.”

“Hi, my dad was a one night stand. She laughed at your joke, and she's gonna love you, okay? You two have a... similar sense of humor. Do it? For me?”

He grinned reluctantly. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

“Y/N, honey, what took you so long?”

“It's the same walk home as always, mom,” you answered with a laugh. “Mom. This is Hiram Stolowitski.”

“Hi,” he interjected, sticking out a hand. “I go by Hi, that is. And the greeting too, I guess. Hi, Y/N's mom.”

She smiled. “I've heard a lot about you. I'd say 'come in' but you're already inside and this isn't even my house. Y/N, take over the pasta, stir occasionally. I'm going to talk to your first crush-”

“Mom, shut up!” you interrupted, flushing red as she continued to talk.

Let's hope she doesn't irreversibly ruin me in his eyes.

“Your mom is so tall,” commented Hi, the three of you sat around a table that you hadn't even known existed.

Apparently, your mother knew this house pretty well, even if its owner was only a one night stand.

“And you're so short... do you get it from your dad's side? Did he have a short-”

“Hi! You're in front of my mother!” you hissed, feeling your face heat up.

She only laughed, which made the situation worse. “I won't say, but he sure didn't know how to use-”

“Mom,” you whispered, putting your head in your hands. “My ears are bleeding.”

Your mother leaned over to stage-whisper to Hi. “It's no wonder the condom broke.”

Covering your eyes, between the gaps of your fingers you saw him look to you. “Ah, well, happy accident.”

“You two combined,” you murmured, “are less mature than I am.”

“Oh, honey, if I'm even remotely insane it's your fault,” argued your mother, ruffling your hair.

Hi snickered behind his hand as you groaned.

“I can't believe you were worried about this, Hi. I'm obviously the only one who's being embarrassed here.”

He shook his head. “Nah, you take after her.”

“Oh no. Such an insult, I am wounded in my heart.”

“You don't have one,” quipped your mom.

“Nah, you really do,” insisted Hi. “You're both super nice.”

You didn't have to look at your mom to know she was flattered.

“I see why my daughter here likes you.”

“Please. Who couldn't like me?”

“Stop making my mom like you more than me.”

“That was so fun,” gushed Hi with a smile as you drove him home. “I can totally see the resemblance, aside from your height and your eyes and your facial structure and-.”

“I thought she was too awesome for you?” you teased, amused.

“Oh, she is. But in a good way. Like you. I love you even though I don't deserve you.”

Thrumming your fingers on the steering wheel, you fought the urge to roll your eyes at his cheesiness, adding, “I'm glad you got to meet her. And you didn't mess up as badly as you thought you would, so that's a plus, isn’t it?”

“For sure.” He gazed out the window, watching the river as you crossed it, the calm waters only lit by the moon. “You'd be good at it, you know.”

“At what? Meeting my mom?”

“No, no! At being a mom.” You turned to him, and almost immediately, your boyfriend blushed. “N-not to say that we should have one – I mean, like, we're still in high school – I mean, we could always do the – not to pressure you, I mean – why did I even start talking? Oh, look, it's my stop.”

You laughed. “Dork. I'll see you tomorrow?”

“If I haven't died yet of embarrassment,” he answered, pointing finger guns at you before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Thanks for driving me home, Y/N. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you responded, smiling as he cupped your cheek and quickly pressed his lips to yours.

He got out, and you watched his figure retreat, a hand resting over the gear shift but not changing it just yet, musing to yourself.

Would we be good parents?

There was absolutely no denying that you had considered, well, sex – after all, the two of you had been in a relationship for longer than two years, and had already dropped the 'l' bomb.

But actually going through with it? Another story entirely.

Not to mention, what if Chance heard us or something happened?

You were an accident, and you didn't want to be stuck with one, either.

Finally, you shifted into drive, letting the moonlit road take over your thoughts.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hit me up with your thoughts! Part three is here!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #chance claybourne #reader insert #female reader insert #okay this was a lot of dialogue #the next one is gonna be fun though! #thanks for reading #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Playing Ball pt. 1 – Trying Out and Tryouts

A/N: So, ever want to get more ideas than you can possibly write? Just talk to @writers-block0o0 about Virals. This is another lovechild of our evil genius!

Part One (You are here!) | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Request: “Idea: reader is forced by Chance to play a sport. And Hi is supporting the idea.” @writers-block0o0 is the source of this.

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @imaginesbyemma, @writers-block0o0

Summary: There's a lot of things your half-brother has made you do against your will. Compared to all of that, his making you play a sport seems mild in comparison... not that it doesn't come with its own share of trouble.

Warnings: A couple of sexual references, mild language (damn, ass, the usual). Punssss.

Word Count: 2,674

Other Notes: Female reader, as per usual, and this is post-Spike. Reader is in senior year... for now.

“You don't do anything.”

Midway through cutting your sandwich, you looked up. “I'm sorry, what?”

“You don't do anything outside of school,” specified Chance. “You just... socialize.”

You removed the knife, but didn't put it down yet. “And your point is...?”

“Y/N, you need a hobby.”

“Can it be knife throwing at my half brother? That seems like a great way to take off the stress.”

“I meant a sport.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Technically, it is a sport. Did you know that-”

“I would prefer-” Chance interrupted, causing you to glare, “-one without implaement. Like lacrosse. You ever played lacrosse? Great game. There's probably some extra sticks in the-”

“Overrated.”

“You know, Tory and Ella play soccer.”

“Boring.”

“Basketball?”

“Just how tall do I look?”

“Volleyball?”

“Intense game of keep-up.”

“Track?”

“Yeah, sure, I'll just relive the good ol' Viral days and sprint-”

“Are you always this difficult?”

You shrugged half-apologetically. “No. Sometimes, I'm worse.”

Your brother's head hit the table in front of him. “Is there any sport you would play?”

Summoning the control over your flare that you had recently gained, you quickly used it to aim and fire the knife in your hand, dousing the rush before Chance could notice.

“Does that count?”

“No.” Then, “Just how much have you practiced – wait, no, don't answer that. Would you play any other sport?”

“Yeah, sure, loads.”

“Such as...?”

Dislodging the knife from the dartboard in which it had been embedded, you shrugged. “If you want me to do a sport that badly, you find that out.”

“I'm going out!” called Chance as he pushed open the front door.

You looked up from the homework you were somewhat buried in. “Where?”

“Country club.”

“You're... going to play golf?” The almost unanimously agreed upon most boring sport on the planet?

“I need a grant, and this is what rich men like to do best.” He frowned. “You want to come?” “Oh yes, I would love to spend my afternoon surrounded by boring, rich, old white men!”

Chance's brow furrowed at your sarcasm. “Watch the attitude, Y/N. You might be good at it.”

“I'm not sure if you've ever met a teenager that wasn't uptight like you, but that's generally not what clubbing means for us.”

“Fine, fine. No parties, and no being alone with Stolowitski.”

You smirked. “I can be alone with anyone else, though?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, spinning his keys on his finger. “The day you cheat on him is the day I marry my cousin in drag. See you.”

It wasn't until after he left that you realized what he was trying to do.

If you want to get me to try a sport, at least make it an interesting one.

“Hey, Y/N, you like the impalement arts, right?”

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, stepping into the car and adjusting your bag to put it at your feet.

“You enjoy impalement arts. Knife throwing, axe throwing-”

“Axes?” The corner of your mouth turned up. “Never tried that. Sounds interesting. Is it legal? Wait, no, don't answer that.”

Chance sighed, and you almost laughed at his exasperation. “You know what else is an impalement art? Archery”

You snorted. “Archers are so high strung.” Best way to annoy Chance, you had learned, was with puns. “Plus, they're all straight as an arrow. How can I find you a boyfriend there?”

“A boyfriend?” he repeated. “Y/N, I don't need you to find me a boyfriend.”

“Why? Are you suddenly in a relationship I don't know about? Is there a reason you didn't say you weren't gay?”

Turning to you with a thousand years' worth of exhaustion on his twenty-year old face, Chance sighed deeply. “With the establishment that I – one time – had gay thoughts, I was under the impression that you would start singing that one song from The Book of Mormon if I denied it.”

“Guilty as charged. But I'm still not doing archery.”

“Fair enough.”

It had been one week of relief from Chance's efforts to get you to try a sport, and while it had been quiet and less stressful, you couldn't believe you were currently on Bolton Prep's website, flipping through on your phone the, admittedly, well put-together pages of sports teams.

You were so absorbed, you almost didn't notice the front door close until your brother entered your peripheral vision. “Y/N, how do you feel about dogs?”

“Dogs?” Lowering your mobile to your lap, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “I mean, technically, I'm dating one. Why do you ask?”

“I found an old canister in the shed of tennis balls and it made me think of dogs.”

“Really? That's not what it makes me think of.” The way he subtly perked up almost caused you to laugh, knowing the words to follow would only deflate him. “It makes me think of a really funny video Hi sent me earlier on Snapchat involving a tennis ball shooter and a bouncy castle.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

“I mean, we could always get a dog if you want to walk it and bathe it and feed it-”

With every word, he only drifted further away.

“Ever been to Folly Beach?” asked Chance when you walked into the kitchen the next morning, again channelling his character very-old-man-in-a-young-body vibes as he flipped through the paper.

“Yeah. With Ben, Shelton, and them.”

“Oh? You like swimming?”

“Not really. It's fun enough when you're all trying to drown Ben, but not so much without them.”

He groaned, putting down the paper and throwing an orange from the table beside him at you. “You're so insufferable.”

Almost instinctively, you shot a hand up to catch the fruit before it could break your nose.

Judging by how Chance's eyes lit up, it was almost certainly a move you would later regret. “Softball! Why didn't I think of it earlier?”

“I really don't think-”

“Give it an honest try, okay? If you don't like it I won't pressure you any further.”

“Fine.”

“Come on! It'll be fun.”

You frowned. “I don't think I've ever heard you say that word.”

“Of course you haven't. We've literally never done anything remotely fun in the other's presence. The most amusement I've gotten with you is laughing at you.”

“Gee, thanks,” you drawled sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “I feel so motivated to let you throw a ball at my head.”

Chance leaned against the door frame to the backyard, gesturing you out. “I'm going to throw a ball at your head either way. You're welcome to catch it or you can let it hit you.”

Sighing, you stepped outside after him, taking the glove he held out to you. “Where did all of this come from?”

“The Claybourne legacy spans hundreds of years, entirely based in Charleston, South Carolina, from before the United States were even a country,” droned your brother. “There's so much sports equipment in the shed. It's crazy.”

He reached a hand up absently to the back of his neck, where he'd been hit by a lacrosse stick upon just opening the door.

Pulling on the glove, you frowned at how much room was left, yelping as a ball shot towards your face and putting the gloved hand up instinctively so it wouldn't crush your chest.

Blinking, you carefully moved the hand away from your chest, dumbfounded.

How had you caught that?

“The trick is hand eye coordination. You just have to watch the ball, and your hand will follow. Don't think about catching it. Clear your mind. And be aware of only the softball.”

“Since when do you play softball?” you asked, rearing back your arm to throw.

“I played some,” he answered, reaching out to the side so fluidly it was like he wasn't really trying and seizing the ball. “Good throw. Fast and accurate. Next time, aim for my chest and not my head.”

“How'd you-?”

“Common mistake. My face moves when I talk. My chest? Not so much. Obviously it'd be different if I was running, but it's the best place to aim.”

When he pitched back to you, it was, again, straight at your chest.

“Who taught you?” you asked, eyes zeroed in on his chest as he had advised before throwing again.

“Who do you think?” Chance nodded as he caught the ball again. “Excellent. Pop fly.”

“What's a-” You stopped as he threw the ball high, struggling to move under it. “What the fuck?”

“Catch it and the batter's out. So's any runners who've left their bases and not returned. One of the most important things an infielder can learn. Atta girl.”

You raised an eyebrow, knelt to the ground with the glove out and the ball in said glove. “Did you just say 'atta girl'?”

“You decide.”

Pausing midway in standing up, you realized why it seemed so odd.

The only person who'd ever said that to you was your father.

Confused, you didn't realized how hard you whipped the ball until Chance yelped, the glove right in front of his face.

“What did I say about aiming for the chest?”

“Sorry!”

Not sorry.

Just conflicted.

“I can't do this.”

“If I hear that one more time today I'm going to shove a bomb in your book bag.”

“Wow. I see what Hi meant when he said you could have an explosive temper.”

Chance's head hit the steering wheel. “Are bad puns your plan to anger me enough that I won't take you to the softball tryouts, Y/N?”

“I don't know. Why? Is my punishment working?”

“Y/N.”

“Do you wanna go and make a home run?”

“Y/N.”

“Are you regretting the idea you pitched?”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“We're here.”

You looked out the window, surprised and somewhat disappointed. “Oh.”

“Listen. You're going to do this. You're going to do your best. You're probably going to get at least one strike, and you'll fumble. More than once.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But,” he continued, “you're also going to crush this. Don't let your nerves get the best of you.”

“I think,” you murmured, looking around the sleek black sedan, “that we need a minivan.”

“Why?”

“You're being a soccer mom and you know what all soccer moms have? Minivans and over pressured children.”

Chance groaned. “I'm not a soccer mom. I'm a softball half brother and, speaking of which, you're being kicked out of this car so go get them. Or else.”

“Or else what?” you started to ask, but the moment you'd gotten yourself and your bag out of the car he started the engine.

“Rude.”

You spent a moment staring at the wide arc that the ball you had just hit made, awed by how high you'd managed to hit it, before the girl crouching as catcher from behind you hit you with a gloved hand and hissed, “Run, moron!”

And run you did, all the way to first base.

A quick glance to your right and you noticed a girl still running to try and position herself under where the ball would land.

Your feet thudded onto second base as the ball hit the ground, before you continued to third and nervously looked back.

Hesitating for a moment, glancing at the same catcher that had ushered you away now eagerly waving you over, you finally left the base, sliding over home plate a couple of moments before the ball hit the pitcher's glove.

Safe.

“Damn, love, how long you been playing?” asked the catcher behind you, crossing her arms over her chest.

Looking askance, you answered honestly. “Three weeks.”

“Some teacher you got... Claybourne, is it?” When you nodded, she raised an eyebrow. “He was a good lacrosse player. Good looker, too. Shame Wythe positively owned him.”

“Do I know you?”

“Nah. I just catch balls and kick lovely amateurs who don't run soon as they've hit. Name's Sarah Reyes. Been on the team a couple'a years. Here's a hint. They love the ones who can hit and the ones who can catch. Throwing's not such a big deal. Don't worry if you throw it over their head, but fumble it, girl, and you'll be dead.”

“Rhyming?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, trying to analyze this Sarah.

“One of my many talents.” She shrugged. “Tryouts are done, by the way. Unless you want to try and seduce your man in that uniform, I'd suggest you join the others in the change room before they lock it.”

“They lock the change room?” you asked concernedly.

“After five minutes. Found out the hard way. Changing in the boys' room isn't so bad... that is, until the soccer practice ends and suddenly you're standin' in front of about twenty hot-ass athletes with only a sports bra on your upper half.”

Good... to know, you thought idly, nodding along with her words. “I'll just... go now.”

“You do that! And look out for me at practice. I've a feelin' we'll be seeing you again.”

Some people have an odd sense of fashion.

Certain people, an odd way of talking.

Other people possess an odd mindset.

In rare cases, there exist few people with all three.

And, as you were learning, Sarah was most definitely the latter.

“So. You made the team,” she stated, leaning against the wall outside of the posted list, chewing bubblegum while wearing a leather jacket over the Bolton Prep uniform, multicolored socks visible at her ankles. “Who's surprised?”

Your tryout number wasn't even on the callback list.

You had made it straight onto the team.

Hell.

“Do you generally camp around here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “Nah. I saw you coming by and I wanted to offer you some advice.

“You see that girl right there? Blond hair, cute ass?” Before you could ask why exactly she was commenting on the other girl's derrière, she had continued. “Plays short stop. Hates y'all new girls.”

“And you're telling me this... why?”

Sarah's gum popped violently. “Because you're either going to want to do badly or be prepared to fight her if you do well. Chances are-” here she winked, alerting you to the pun she had made “-it'll be on the field. Suspension or toss up, your choice.”

When you looked to the side again, the catcher was gone.

Odd.

“Y/N!” called out Hi, jogging up to you with a grin. “Good morning, my lovely, beautiful girlfriend, light of my life, only good thing that lives on a Claybourne property. Whatever are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up at your locker.”

“Oh,” you responded half-heartedly. “Sorry. I was... talking to someone.”

Trying to adjust to make it less obvious that the list was behind you was little use – it was about the only thing of note in the entire hallway. “She play ball?”

“Yeah.”

He took in the list, a hand stroking an imaginary beard on his chin, before gasping. “Claybourne. 69. Final cut.” Hi turned to you, eyes wide. “Either you're cheating on me with a member of the girls' softball team, or you're on it. Because I doubt any of those admittedly very nice ladies could be better than this, since when do you play?”

“Since Chance forced me to,” you replied sheepishly, “when he found out I was good at catching.”

“No way! How'd that happen?”

“He threw an orange at me.” Your boyfriend snickered, and you crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “Come on! What would you do if balls were flying at your face?”

“I don't know, say 'no homo'?”

“Hi!”

He laughed, pulling you into his arms. “I'm joking, babe. I'm actually super jazzed. You're gonna be great at this.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Y/N. Don't be silly. I would never agree with your brother if I didn't have to. I'm only a little upset that you didn't tell me sooner that I'm dating a softball pro.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Hi.”

“And plus, I bet you look super hot in that uniform.”

“I'm doing softball, not cheerleading.”

“It's not about the uniform. It's about the person in it.”

A/N: All that time, and for that short little thing? Yes, I know, I know – but there's more to come! We have about three more in this, maybe four if I'm tempted enough. Thanks for reading! Part two is here!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #chance claybourne #reader insert #female reader insert #it's mostly chance oh well #so i'm super sick y'all welp it hurts #all over i need medicine #but on the bright side look at this #it's so good #it only took forever #thanks y'all for reading #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Mistake, Heartbreak, Hoping She’ll Wake - Hi Stolowitski x Claybourne!Reader

A/N: A little bit of a different format to celebrate the fact that I’ve never really had a request before! It’s more organised this way so I can say what I wanna say, I’m stealing the format from my other blog.

Request: “Hey, can you write a Hiram x reader? (Reader and Hiram are bf and gf) Where the @ gamemaster tries to hurt the reader and she almost dies and ends up in the hospital. Hiram serious for once tells her he loves her while she’s in a coma and she wakes up and cheesey shit?” Courtesy of @writers-block0o0

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: None of y’all actually asked to be added to my taglist so I feel a bit pretentious here with this, but here goes, I hope y’all lovelies enjoy - @themorrisislandpack, @shelton-devers, @viralgonepsych-o,  @virgosfr3ckles,  @quaintnessandqueerness, @parvovirusxpb-19, @eatsleepcringerepeat, @waterlovescake.

Summary: As Chance Claybourne’s half-sister, life has never been easy - but when someone working against your closest friends kidnaps you, it’s a matter of life and death all dependent on when and if they can get to you. Takes place during Code.

Warnings: Language - “damn”, “bastard”, and I think at least three (3) uses of the Lord’s name in vain, which might offend some people. Also, firearms mentions. Kidnapping. Blood mentions. It’s somewhat violent. Don’t read this to your kids, please. Just a bad idea.

Word Count: 4,008 (I usually don’t add that but damn I wanted you to know this is not a short oneshot!)

Other Notes: I hope I’ve fulfilled this request as well as the requester wanted, considering how long it took me to get around to it! (I’m still sorry!) Anyway, here goes nothing.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” murmured Shelton as they sat in the bunker, gathered around the iPad on which the next clue was scheduled to appear.

“Shelton,” sighed Hi, “you’ve always got a bad feeling. How bad can it…”

He trailed off as the iPad flickered on, revealing a video of a girl that they knew all too well.

“Y/N,” whispered Ben as the Gamemaster’s vile laugh filled the room.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” asked the man rhetorically, face not visible as a knife was dragged across her skin, barely touching it. “Have fun finding her.”

The video stopped, and a timer appeared on screen, giving them four hours.

“No. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening,” muttered Hi, getting up and starting to pace.

Tory stared in mute disbelief at the screen as the numbers started to count down before finally opening her mouth. “We have to find her. Hi, calm down. I know you’re concerned but this is not the time to be panicking.”

“My girlfriend is being held captive. By a madman!” Hi flailed his arms in the air for emphasis. “By someone who's probably going to kill her, how can I not panic? Why aren’t you panicking? How aren’t you panicking? We were supposed to go on a date, this was supposed to be a normal day, I was finally ready to-”

He sat down, too choked up with tears threatening to fall to continue.

“When was the last time we saw her?” asked Tory. “Shelton, you had tech with her. Do you remember what she said she was going to do?”

“She rode home with Chance,” offered Ben, causing all eyes in the room to turn to him. “Y/N rode home with Chance. She always does on Wednesdays. It’s why she hates them.”

Tory, Ben, Shelton and Hi all knew it was no secret that you weren’t exactly fond of your half brother – since you had been forced to move in with him and your father around the time that Tory moved to Morris Island, the two of you had never quite gotten along.

Not near as well as you got along with the Morris Island crew, anyway – you and Ben were like brother and sister, while you had been dating Hi for six months strong.

“We’ve got to find her. Who knows what he’s-” Hi struggled to keep down a sob “-done to her.” He turned to Tory. “How strong is your nose?”

You aren’t used to things going so fast, but with Hi, it never feels like you’re rushing things – and besides, amidst all of the adventures that your friends have managed to get up to since being infected, it’s hardly like your relationship is the least stable thing in either of your lives.

In fact, as Hi once put it, “it’s nice to have something that feels real for once when the rest of your day feels like a dream.”

Ironically enough, he was eating a Twinkie while saying this and ardently defended the golden snack’s “realness” when you brought it up.

A knock on your door startled you out of your reverie, but the moment you opened your mouth to answer, you frowned.

Who would knock on your door in this house? Currently, only your half-brother, Chance, lived here – not even your father was here anymore, considering his current occupation of serving a life sentence in prison.

Since moving in a few years ago, Chance had never come to your room, considering the two of you did not get along well. In fact, you were about certain that he wasn’t even home at the moment.

“Who’s there?”

Nobody answered, and you started to think that you must have imagined whatever you heard.

Oh well, can’t hurt to be sure. You padded across the carpeted room before pulling open the door.

You don’t even get the chance to scream as a hand claps over your mouth, and despite your struggle, you can’t twist to see the owner of said hand before you pass out.

A combination of Tory’s sense of smell, enhanced by flaring, along with a touch of technological tracing on Shelton’s part had them following a trail of blood through the woods not far from downtown Charleston.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t have gotten backup?” asked Shelton nervously. “Maybe the police would have been good to bring into this, considering he’s probably armed.”

Tory turned to him, yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness of late evening. “Yes, Shelton, and how were we supposed to explain how we found him? It’s better to keep the police out of this. We just solve the puzzle, grab Y/N, and nobody gets hurt.” I hope, was what she didn’t say, but it was what all of them heard anyway.

The four stopped abruptly as the fading sun cast light upon a dark building in the middle of the world, a shack inconspicuous enough that they would never have looked at it twice, but also a shack where the trail ended.

“He’s probably got cameras up around the place,” offered Ben, frowning as he took it in.

“Ben, can you check if there’s any windows? That seems safer than trying to get in through the front door.” He nodded at Tory’s request as she continued to survey it.

Before Ben had moved five steps, a shrill screech came from inside the shack, the scream loud to even the three of the four who hadn’t flared and bringing Tory to her knees, hands clapped over her ears a moment too soon. “Quick.”

The tallest of the boys disappeared into the trees to survey the perimeter as Hi sweated through his shirt, nervously wringing his hands.

“I can’t believe she got dragged into this,” he mumbled under his breath, the sound still audible in the silence of dusk. “This is all my fault. I should have gone all Harry Potter to her Ginny and broken up with her to protect her.”

“Hi.” Shelton grabbed him by the shoulders. “We all know how well that worked. Stop it. Y/N needs you right now.”

The other boy nodded, hardly hearing him as Ben came back. “There’s two windows. One is the room they’re in. One is near it. I think they’ll hear us if we break through there.”

“Front door it is.”

Ignoring the sense of foreboding that came upon them as they approached, the four walked up to the front door, Shelton testing the handle.

Easily, it turned and opened, not even locked.

“Either they just got here, or he was expecting us.” Shelton made to enter but Ben yanked him back by the collar.

“There’s no telling how he’s rigged this place. It’d probably be best if we all flared.”

“But won’t he see?”

Hi rolled his eyes. “Listen. If this Joker is really so mad as to try and steal from us and take Y/N while he’s at it, God knows what other crazy thoughts he’s got going on in his head. Who’s he gonna tell that will believe him?”

He was the first to flare, and soon, four pairs of gleaming yellow stood in the front corridor of a single-story shack that couldn’t have looked more like it was out of a horror movie if it tried.

Firearms from Glocks to AK-47s lined the walls and hung on racks, and a sickening spatter of blood on the floor had splashed onto the couch nearby.

It was a gruesome scene that made Shelton visibly shudder as they continued through the room, Ben grabbing one of the pistols off its rack and switching off the safety.

He hoped to God they wouldn’t have to use it.

“Oh, please, you’re pathetic,” a voice sounded through the walls, so muffled that only Shelton picked up on it at first. “Your friends are going to help you? How cute. You know why they didn’t drag you into this, hm? It’s because they don’t think you’re special. They don’t think you’re strong enough… because there’s always been a line dividing you and those four, huh?”

“They’re AP. They’re special. They’ve always been smarter than you and they didn’t think you would be enough of an asset to help them solve this… it’s a shame, really. If they’d have told you, maybe you wouldn’t have opened a door to a stranger.”

Now in the room next to the one in which the Gamemaster was talking.

“They have an hour and fifteen minutes left. Maybe if they rush enough, they’ll follow the clues and get here in an hour. Are you worth rushing for, sweetheart?”

Now they could hear your hardly there response, not even comprehensible due to the gag in your mouth around which you struggled to speak.

Shelton slowly started to push open the door, the dark-skinned hand trembling on the knob before he took a deep breath, turning it and finally swinging the door open in one fluid motion.

‘Shelton!’ you tried to shout through the duct tape on your mouth, using the distraction to hook your tongue around it and finally using your teeth to take the makeshift gag into your mouth.

“Please tell me my badass girlfriend just managed to eat the duct tape,” whispered Hi.

You turned to him, eyes wide, and found your boyfriend’s almost permanent smile had dropped, even his eyes showing the pain that coming upon you in such a state had brought him.

It was Ben who spoke first of the four, entering the room with his gun pointed straight at the Gamemaster. “Let her go.”

“Let her go?” repeated the man, before latching a hand on your hair and tugging hard enough to elicit a sharp yelp from you. “Sure.”

He dragged you across the room before any of the four could do anything, coming to a staircase you hadn’t known was there before throwing you down the steps, your head knocking painfully against the wall on your way down.

Black swarmed your vision as you heard footsteps scrabble on the floor above, Tory’s almost always confident voice sounding fragile in her next words.

“You’ll pay for this.”

They were an hour early, but even so, the Gamemaster had an escape plan, his final words the last you heard before succumbing to the darkness.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

The time was nine o'clock – coincidentally, exactly the same time at which Hi had made a reservation for dinner for the two of you.

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to get ready for the night out that he had been planning for weeks, and now you were in a hospital gown.

Between his well-conditioned upper body and the enhancement that flaring provided to him, Ben had managed to carry you back to the car, the four and you fitting awkwardly, considering you were unconscious and bleeding from where the wound on your wrist had reopened – the same wound from which the blood dripping made the trail they had followed.

None of the four had spoken, Hi taking your head in his lap and doing a silent inventory of the bruises on you, trying to find where the blood spatter in the room had originated.

You weren’t spotless, but there was certainly nothing to suggest it had come from you.

They had taken you to the hospital, saying you had fallen down the stairs and gone unconscious, and still, you hadn’t woken up.

It had been an hour and Hi was already worried sick.

“This is all my fault!” he cried, pacing the room. “You heard what he said in there. Maybe I should have told her about this, that there’s a mad psycho on our asses! I’ve never kept anything like this from her before. She knows about us, for God’s sake!”

Visiting hours were over and the four wanted nothing more than to see you.

“Hi. Your mother will be worried sick. We’ve got to get you home.” Ben, always the voice of reason, clapped his hands on the other boy’s shoulders from behind. “She’ll be fine. She needs time to recover after that. Worrying in here won’t get you anywhere.”

Your boyfriend only started pacing faster. “Six months. This is our six month anniversary! We’re supposed to be out on a date, not here! I should never have dragged her into our nonsense. It was all or nothing and I kept things from her and now I’m going to lose her!” He turned back to Ben, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her! She’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me and I’m in love with her, damn it! I can’t lose her because of that bastard!”

Exhausted, he fell onto the chair next to Shelton, putting his head in his hands.

“Hi. Let’s get you home. We’ll come back tomorrow, I promise.”

He nodded blankly, getting up and following Tory out, accepting the reassuring squeeze on the shoulder that Ben offered.

Even so, Ben would never stop blaming himself for what had happened to you – for the mess that he had gotten them into.

If I hadn’t told him about her, this would never have happened.

A week’s worth of missed work from your classes piled up on the table next to you - even if you weren’t in AP like the Virals all were, high school was demanding nonetheless - and Hi sighed, glancing at it before sitting next to you.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s me. Hi. I’ve said my name twice now.” He laughed, but even with nobody in the room to hear it, it sounded forced. “You’ve been asleep for a week now. I know even you need your beauty sleep, but you’re worrying me to death and worry is not a good look on me. This bod was not made for stressing.”

Drifting in and out of consciousness, you felt your limbs like dead weights and your boyfriend’s voice, usually light but now heavy with his pain, providing a familiarity in this foreign environment. His next words were the first you heard.

“I need you, Y/N. I like to think I don’t need anyone but I’m wrong. I’m always wrong. I need your voice, your smile, to run my fingers through your hair and to touch your skin and have it warmer than me. I-I’ve been wanting to tell you for ages now, and I finally worked up the guts to do it. I was going to take you out to dinner and then I was going to take you into that one cheese shop that’s always open late and tell you ‘now that I’m surrounded by cheese, it’ll seem a bit less cheesy when I say this: I love you’ and then kiss you amidst all the cheeses whose names I can’t pronounce.”

“I rehearsed that for weeks, Y/N, and I’m honestly shocked that you would take that away from me considering it’s the best thing I ever came up with. It’s been a week but it feels like I’ve gained ten years.”

“I love you. Please come back to me. If it’s the homework you’re hiding from, I’ll pay off Shelton to do it and I might even help him. But please, I can’t lose you.”

You couldn’t fight back your smile anymore, and honestly, considering how long you had slept, you considered it somewhat rude to pretend to do the same.

“What’re you dreaming about?” He had evidently noticed your smile. “Is it Twinkies? Those dreams are the best.”

Your throat felt dry and scratchy with your reply. “Better than a dream. It’s you.”

You finally lifted your eyelids open, struggling to keep them so as you adjusted to the light in the room and the brightness in the eyes of Hiram Stolowitski, who was grinning despite the tears that you could see on his cheeks.

“Y/N.”

“I heard all of that, you sap.”

“Y/N!” He threw his arms around you before loosening them, remembering you were injured. “You jerk. I can’t believe you’d fake being asleep like that after being asleep for a week.”

Odd, his summarizing exactly what you had just been thinking. Then again, that was exactly what made the two of you mesh so well together - you were kindred spirits.

“Water?” You hated the sensation that your words caused as he nodded vigorously, pulling a bottle from his backpack.

“Here. Drink and reflect on your actions.”

He smiled lopsidedly at you as you drank, the water feeling divine as you were parched. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here. I thought you’d never wake up, or when you did it’d be like one of those seven-year comas and then you wouldn’t recognize me because I’d be so old and my young attractiveness was gone.”

“Hi. You’re fifteen.”

You shook your head at his antics, struggling to sit up and breathing a sigh of relief as he helped you, adjusting the pillows and grabbing a couple from the floor. “I may or may not have nabbed these from one of the storage rooms.”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at him doubtfully.

“Fine, fine. It was Ben’s idea.”

Finally able to look him in the eye, you smiled again, before grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him.

Hard.

With tongue.

He’d be talking about this for weeks.

Smiling as you pressed your forehead to this, you whispered, “I love you too, you big dolt.”

“I mean, who couldn’t? Have you seen my muscles?” He pumped his arm as if to prove it, causing the two of you to laugh. “I’m sorry, I should have told you about the Gamemaster, I never expected he would go after you.”

“Hey, it’s the first thing you’ve ever kept from me, aside from your signature pizza recipe.”

“Which you’ll still never get.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, taking another gulp of water. “I’m your badass girlfriend who knows how to get duct tape off her mouth with her hands tied, and you can’t even tell me how to make a pizza? I’m starting to think I’m not good enough for you.”

Pressing a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, Hi replied, “You’re too good for me, Y/N, but you’re still never getting that. Maybe one day when I’m on my deathbed and you’re my next of kin, I’ll whisper it to you dramatically but miss the last ingredient and then the recipe will die with me.”

You pushed him. “No death jokes. Insensitive.”

“Irreplaceable.”

Your boyfriend grinned widely at you and you resisted the urge to gag at his cheesiness. “Where are the others?”

“What, am I not good enough for you?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think they’ll be here later. I came right after school. We’ve been in every day. Your brother’s been collecting your homework for you. Chance. He’s been worried sick about you, ya know. Something about how he should’ve been home, shouldn’t have left you in that ginormous place alone.”

You nodded, finding it hard to believe. “Huh. I doubt it’ll last once he realizes I’m back to my old, annoying self again.”

“Please. You could never be annoying.”

Hi’s gaze traveled your face as if he was taking it in for the first time. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” You grinned. “I’m still holding you to that, though. I’m not in any fit state to do all of this work.”

“Please. I’d have done it all if it meant getting you back.”

“Liar. You would at least have delegated some to Shelton.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “What can I say? You know me too well.”

“I’ll never know too much about you. I love you.”

A kick at the door made you look up, revealing the other three of the pack looking sheepish.

“Were you spying on us?” gasped out Hi, pointing an accusatory finger. “Honestly. You’re so depraved.”

“If it helps,” offered Tory, “we’ve only been here since you talked about Chance.”

“You are all horrible eavesdroppers and I don’t know why I’m friends with you,” you murmured, shaking your head with a laugh. “Also, who kicked the door?”

“In my defense, I was aiming for Ben,” retorted Shelton, brushing himself off.

“What? It’s not my fault I can’t stand these two.”

You threw one of the pillows that Ben himself had stolen, scowling as he caught it.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen any of you flare,” you said quietly, even if they could all hear you anyway. “I never knew your eyes went yellow.”

“Hopefully you don’t get yourself into more danger that we have to save you from,” replied Tory. “How are you? Suffering from cavities due to this charmer’s sweetness?”

You shrugged. “Honestly, just tired.”

Hi gasped dramatically. “You’ve been sleeping for a week and you want to sleep more? Honestly, Y/N, priorities.”

“I was joking,” you said with a laugh as the pillow was thrown back at you.

Looking up to the doorway murderously, you saw Ben hold his hands up as if to say ‘I didn’t do it’ and noticed a shadow behind him.

Chance.

“You’re not allowed to do that again,” he spoke, leaning against the doorway as the other three moved to offer him space. “No falling down staircases. In fact, it’s probably a good idea to just avoid them altogether.”

You scowled at him. “Like you avoid me?”

“Yes. Exactly. Good talk.” He left the room, leaving you staring at the door in confusion.

“He cares,” offered Tory, watching his retreating figure. “In his own way.”

You shrugged. “I don’t need him. I have you. And that’s enough.”

Ben mimed throwing up. “Stop listening to Thickburger here,” he laughed, ruffling Hi’s hair as he crossed the room. “I liked you better when you were feisty.”

“Uh-huh. Like you aren’t sappy, mister I-Steal-Pillows-From-Hospitals.”

He turned on Hi. “You, sir, are the biggest snitch.”

“Hey, she was the one who said it couldn’t be me. Checkmate, Ben. She knows what a big sap you are.”

Nodding along with his words, you couldn’t help but smile, glad to be back with Tory and her boys.

Like it or not, Ben and Shelton were like brothers to you, far superior to Chance, in your eyes, and Tory the sister you never had.

Hi was the best boyfriend you could have asked for, and the fact that they were all here and you weren’t still with the Gamemaster just proved that, no matter what he might have said to the contrary.

“So, Y/N, how about we get a jumpstart on that homework?”

“God, Shelton, stop being such a buzzkill,” you sighed, shaking your head. 

“Hey. Hi’s the fun one, Ben’s the strong one, it falls to me to be the boring, smart one,” he replied with a shrug, eyes widening when Tory turned to him with her hands on her hips.

“And what does that make me?”

“The bossy one?”

She punched him lightly on the arm, exchanging a glance with you. “Boys. Honestly. They smell, too.”

“I haven’t showered in a week.”

“Gross!” exclaimed Hi, jumping away from the bed, before laughing. “We should probably let you get dressed. Come on, come on, shoo, guys, give the lady her room.”

He ushered them out, before leaning back into the room to wink at you. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Hiram.”

You felt warm even under the thin cotton sheets and the flimsy hospital gown, the heat coming from your heart, and the knowledge that no matter what, your friends would always be there for you.

They never made you feel like the weaker one, no matter what the Gamemaster had said.

Having friends like these just made you stronger, and you loved them for it.

“Shut up, Hi! You’re like a lovesick puppy!”

“Yeah? You think we haven’t noticed how you look at - hey! What was that for?”

Quirks and all.

A/N: Fun, fun, fuuuuun! That didn’t take near as long as I expected. Which is a good thing, I wouldn’t want to keep people waiting. Thanks so much for reading!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #shelton devers #ben blue #tory brennan #victoria brennan #chance claybourne #okay serious tags are over with moving on #this was so great! it had angst and fluff and action #and hi stolowitski master of sarcasm #he was supposed to be serious but hey he basically wrote himself so don't blame me #i'm going to hell for this i used god's name like fifty times #but i mean i'm gay so i'm pro'lly winding up there anyway #tumblr is a bitch i may or may not have glitched out the tags and couldn't save this #luckily i copy and pasted so i didn't lose it #it's because i had a million tags before #i have little self control #so i'll try and keep it brief! i? take requests now #didn't know that but this was hella fun i'm eager to try that again #if you scroll through you'll see i'm obsessed with harry potter and virals #so message me! or send an ask! i like to think i'm a nice person #and a reasonably not-horrible author #that's all there's a tag limit why am i just learning this? i don't know #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Playing Ball pt. 3 - Breaking Bones and Breaking Rank

A/N: Okay! This is a short one, y'all, but it’s cute and it has bonding and it leads up to the awesomeness that is the next part.

Part One |  Part Two | Part Three (You are here!) | Part Four | Part Five

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma.

Summary:  Yeah, I guess the typo of "Why" from earlier just about covers it, but for the real deal... When the most infamous member of your softball team says something you don't like, you cannot let it slide.

Warnings: Puns, feels, mild language, Hamilton references. (I think there’s about three or four in here).

Word Count: 1,769. Like I said, pretty short.

Other Notes: Female reader. A couple of weeks after the last. Enjoy!

Midway through the season, you were beginning to understand why Sarah had been so pessimistic about your team’s prospects for the season.

In spite of your best efforts, good team members’ enthusiasm – and, occasionally, even their participation – had been quickly disappearing.

Suspiciously enough, all of those who had suddenly missed games had somehow gotten on the bad side of short stop Delilah Lee… not that anyone was bringing that up.

And, apparently, it was pretty easy to get on her bad side. After fumbling one of her throws the last match, you’d been anxious about this next one ever since, because apparently making her look bad was not in your best interest.

“Ahhh, my little rookie, how are you doing? I hope the fact that we’re miserably losing this match hasn’t brought down your adorable, naive little spirits too much.”

Sarah took a seat beside you on the bench. “Your brother been coming to these games?”

“He picks me up sometimes,” you answered, nonchalant. “I don’t tend to go to his lacrosse games, he usually doesn’t show up to mine. He’s working right now.”

“Still playing lacrosse?” She whistled low as the game resumed.

“Yep.”

It was as you started walking back to your field position that you heard it.

“Claybournes. Freaks, the lot of them.”

Whipping around to find, not surprisingly, Delilah herself, you hissed, “What did you just say about my family?”

She shrugged nonapologetically. “I said y'all are freaks.”

Flare just begging to take over, to pound her into the ground, to show her just how much of a freak you really were, you dug your nails into your palm to attempt to quell the anger starting to boil.

You’re in the middle of a game, Y/N.

Ninth inning.

Though it took an immense deal of restraint to not engage her and simply walk away, you certainly wouldn’t be forgetting what she had said any time soon.

It was after the game that you finally snapped, the rage under your skin at last boiling over.

That bitch has no right to say such a thing, the wolf within you seemed to scream.

On the way off the pitch, you turned to Delilah. “Dick move out there, Lee.”

“What?” she asked, feigning confusion.

“Insulting my family during the game.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. Your brother’s a scoundrel, and-”

“If anyone gets to insult Chance,” you hissed, cutting her off, “it’ll be me.”

Behind dark sunglasses, your eyes flashed dark blue as your fist collided with her nose, a crunch distinctly audible under your knuckles.

“Ow!” Hand flying to her face, Delilah called out, “The bitch hit me! Did anyone see that?”

“You had it coming, Lee. Walk it off,” advised Sarah.

However, your coach wasn’t near as dismissive.

“Meet me inside.”

Refusing to bow your head in shame even as your pride seemed to flounder and take a bullet to the head, you followed him into his office nonetheless.

“Listen,” he started as soon as you had shut the door behind you, taking a pen from the cup on his desk. “I know you girls can be… sensitive, but you can’t just go around punching folks whenever you feel like it.”

Whenever you feel like it? “But coach, I-”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to you,” he – ironically enough – cut you off. “Now, knowing your violent history-”

“Violent history?” you repeated. Since when did you have a violent history? What the hell was this man talking about?

He seemed to ignore you. “-it was really quite generous of me to even let you try out, let alone become a member of the team, which prides itself on being considerably more level-headed than you were, such as in your… altercation with Mr Deacon. Now, knowing how hormonal and emotional you ladies can be, I’m going to let you off with a two game suspension and a phone call home.

Hormonal?

Did he just seriously attempt to blame your actions on PMS?

“Are you serious?”

Your coach glared warningly. “Go home, Y/N. That’s an order from your coach.”

Resisting the urge to sulk or to punch him in the face, you left, holding your head high and pretending not to notice the fact that you were being laughed at, making your way out to where you had parked and starting the engine, only allowing your feelings to catch up after you were safely shielded behind the tinted windows.

Sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal while struggling not to let your head fall into the bowl was how Chance found you a couple of hours later.

“Y/N?”

He flicked on a light, causing you to screech and cover your eyes. “It burns!”

“What are you doing in the dark?”

You held up a spoon with one of the now soggy flakes, raising an eyebrow. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks to me like both you and the cereal you’re eating have seen better days.”

He grabbed a chair, pulling it up to sit beside you and leaning forward, forearms rested on spread thighs. “What happened today with you and Delilah Lee?”

“Oh. You heard about that.”

“Yeah, they called while I was at work. Which was odd, because I didn’t know they had my cell number. Since when am I listed as your contact again?”

Casting a dejected glance up at him, you droned, “The house’s voicemail message has your cell phone number.”

“Oh.” Chance nodded slowly. “I should have realized that. Now, tell me what happened.”

“What’s there to tell?” you asked, stirring around the cereal, appetite lost. “I punched her. I think she was bleeding. It’s obviously because of my female hormones.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. What did she say?”

“Probably something like ‘Ow, I’m bleeding’.”

“No. What did she say to provoke you? You wouldn’t have just punched a random person.”

“Of course I would have. I have a violent history.”

Your half brother forcibly took the spoon from your hand, shoved it and the bowl away, and turned you to face him without even batting an eye – dramatic, even for Chance Claybourne.

“Was that really necessary?”

“What? Stop trying to change the subject, Y/N, we’re talking about you right now. And until you tell me exactly what happened today, I’m not answering any of your questions, okay?”

“Why don’t I just go?” You made to get up, but his hands firmly pressed you back down by the shoulders.

“What. Happened?”

Sighing, you finally obliged him. “Okay, so she said some stupid shit. Wow, that’s a tongue twister.  Are my answers to your satisfaction?”

“Y/N. Please, I really don’t ask that much of you. Can you tell me what she said?”

“She said we were freaks.”

Dark brown eyebrows knitting together, Chance nodded slowly. “What’s it with that word? 'Freak’? Every time you get in a fight with someone, it seems to come up. You shouldn’t let it get to you like that.”

“If I’d have wanted a lecture, I might have visited our father in prison and told him I’m still dating Hi,” you bit out. “That’s not what got to me.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but – wait, what got to you, if not that?”

“What do you think?” You smiled wryly. “Look, I’m only gonna say this once. You’re insufferable, but as the person who deals with your bullshit the most, I’m the only one entitled to make fun of it.”

He swallowed thickly. “That’s the closest to even an 'I like you’ that you’ve ever gotten.”

“Huh. Mark it on your calendar it’ll never happen again. Celebrate the anniversary every year. Make it a birthday cake and blow out the candles alone.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“I’m proud of you.”

“What? I’m suspended for two games right now. You need to set your priorities straight.”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at you. “That’s not what I meant, idiot. I mean that… here I go, and I will say this only once… it was a good thing of you to stick up for yourself and your family. You’re a good person, Y/N.”

“Wow, get me in touch with your dealer, that’s some pretty strong shit,” you murmured teasingly, before hugging him.

“No. Stop this. This is not what I asked for.”

“Too bad.”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you, too, you big softie.”

“I could crush you.”

“You can’t. You’re too soft.”

He awkwardly patted you on the back. “Okay, okay, can we stop now?”

“Fine.”

Believe it or not, the trio of girls that Tory “fondly” referred to as the Tripod of Skank weren’t the only bitches in Bolton Prep.

This you learned, of course, after the fact that you insulted the reasonably popular Delilah Lee by punching her in the face and, apparently, breaking her nose.

She’s just milking this for all it’s worth, now, isn’t she? you thought to yourself, feeling even further alienated from these girls who all seemed to have either a glare for you or nothing at all.

Nobody, not one person, dared to say you had done the right thing.

What kind of control does this girl have over the school? Coming to your locker, you almost yelped as a hand touched your shoulder.

“Y/N, relax, it’s just me.”

“Oh. Hey, Jason. What’s up?”

“Honestly?” He stuck his hands in his pockets, leaning his back against the locker next to yours. “Chance asked me to look out for you today.”

“Wow. I keep forgetting that the two of you are friends, for whatever reason.”

“More than-” he paused “-most people realize, yeah. Mostly because he knows that almost everyone in this place has more money than sense. I don’t blame him.”

“Oh?” you repeated, even feigning interest seeming an effort.

Something about Jason could just be so… boring.

Laid-back, you tried to correct yourself – there was a reason he was only really good friends with one of the Claybournes.

“Yep. So, how’s it going with you, little Claybourne?”

“Could be better,” you answered, closing your locker and leaning back against the metal door in an imitation of the boy next to you. “How about you? Get that homework done?”

“Wait, there was homework?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Nah, there was no homework. I’m just messing with you. How’s the lacrosse team doing?”

“Considerably better than the girls’ softball team,” he teased lightly. “I hear their short stop just got her nose broken.”

“Broken?” you repeated.

“Oh, please, don’t act surprised. With who you associate with, it seems as though invisible strength is common.” The bell rang, and he righted himself. “Try not to get killed.”

“I’ll try my best.”

A/N: Yeah, short excerpt, I know, I know. I already warned you about that, so you can’t hurt me now. I hope you enjoyed! For those of y’all who start school tomorrow, good luck, and thanks for reading! Check out part four here!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #chance claybourne #jason taylor #reader insert #female reader insert #welp there we go #that was two in a row #someone reward me #okay i have to go eat now #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 5 - Infection

A/N: Okay! This isn't exactly a full chapter with a discernable plot so much as it is a series of scenes, but I really liked the quite welcome change. Drabbles, I'd call it, but they're all about 500-750 words, so it's more like short shorts. All filled exactly one letter-size page in 12 pt. font, that's the only deciding factor, and they do go in order of appearance! 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (You are here!)

Request: Technically this wasn't asked for. But it contains some thoughts that I discussed with @writers-block0o0​. I'm sad to see this end, but, of course, I've got tons more ideas to pursue with this reader! Anyone can request them, or anything Virals-related, in my message box, asks, comments, I really don't care how you reach me!

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0​, @imaginesbyemma​, I tag by request for pairings/series/fandoms.

Summary: You may have lost what made you different, but it's resurfaced, and the impacts haven't been buried. In interacting with others in your life, you find relationships redefined, as you share those close to you a part of yourself.

Warnings: Puns, feels, and fluff. All of the segments are puntitled, and we also have (entirely safe) underage driving. I may have, for once in my life, managed to have this entirely clean!

Word Count: 3,131

Other Notes: Female reader. Post-Terminal, pre-Spike. (It goes Shock, Swipe, Spike, Shift, right? It's Shock, Shift, Swipe, Spike. I'll never get that order right).

Furtively Different

“So, that's... that's how it is?”

Shelton narrowed his eyes at you.

The last one of your closest friends you had told, and the look he was giving you was making you start to regret – if only in the slightest – not choosing to keep Tory or Ben or Hi with you for support.

Instead, you had loaded it onto him at lunch, and only now, standing in the hallway outside of your tech classroom, could he react.

You had waited until everything resolved itself to choose to potentially widen the gap between you and the pack – because you weren't sure that you could have faced this divided.

Not that it had made much of a difference. Your flaring abilities had been stripped, experiments conducted, and none of you were near the same... though your infection had started to resurface in the strangest of ways.

Your flare color and abilities hadn't gone away, they had simply... changed. And by that, you meant that the red you had once had danced around the color wheel to a dark blue while Tory and her boys' flaring took the form of light blue eyes and communication almost without borders.

Though you wouldn't really know much about the telepathy. Just as your eyes were darker than the pack's now, the same abilities had been used for a darker purpose, taking advantage of the strength and the individuals but never with any of the same links that seemed to bring together your best friends.

“Yeah, that's how it is now,” you finally answered, bringing yourself back to the moment.

He let out a low whistle. “Tell me, does your Trinity know how to count?”

That was what he was commenting on?

“Ella, Will and Cole were the voluntary members,” you explained. “Chance was the unofficial orchestrator that Will didn't really like to acknowledge, and then I was pretty much the bargaining chip between the two. He got control over them, they got control over me.”

“I know where he lives.”

“So do I,” you added apprehensively. “Wait, what are you saying?”

“Nothing,” responded Shelton a little too quickly. “Nothing, Y/N. I just can't believe I wasn't invited to your girls' night with your boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Awww, Shelousy, I'll sit through all your One Direction albums with you to make it up to you.”

“Do that and I might just forget that you called me Shelousy.”

“Deal!”

Unable to resist the urge, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug.

“This is new. Do we usually hug?”

Despite his words, Shelton's arms tightened around your waist, returning the sentiment.

“We do now. Suck it up.”

He laughed. “Or what? You'll sink your canines into me?”

“Are you really pulling a Hi?” you asked, pulling back to stare fixedly at him. “I would say you're doggone mad.”

The hallway's artificial light glinting off his glasses, Shelton shook his head. “You're barking up the wrong tree.”

“Damn. This is really ruff.”

“Not feeling it here? I can take you to LIRI. You'd fit right in with the labs.”

“Oh, please, I'll have you eating your words so fast you'll be wolfing them down.”

“Just stop,” bemoaned Jason, causing you to startle as you remembered that you weren't the only people in the hallway. “Please. For the good of everyone.”

In perfect unison, you and Shelton retorted, “Don't hound us about it,” before high-fiving.

“But, come to think of it, we really should stop.”

“Agreed.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Driving Me Crazy

Tap, tap, tap.

Dark eyes, the cobalt blue of a deep ocean, regarded idly the repeated motion against the desk.

Heightened hearing could not only hear the tapping, but its resonance through the dark wood.

Your new control over your flaring had taken some getting used to, but you had gradually become more accepting of it.

Curious, how though accepting its effects and giving into the flare, you had never quite consciously come to terms with the fact that you would be forever biologically changed by it.

You couldn't just go to the doctor and have bloodwork done, nor could you ever consider yourself entirely human.

Human, there's a thought. “What's the difference between human and humane?”

“Deep.”

The voice, recognizable immediately, was easy for you to place in the room, and you threw the pencil at Chance without even having to look back from your comfortable seat in the office chair.

He moved out of the way. Damn.

“Can we talk?”

SNUP

Grateful for being able to quell your flare instantly now, you spun around. “About what?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” you repeated. “Grab the keys.”

Chance, confused, nonetheless walked forward as you herded him out of your room and down the stairs, obliging your request as you pulled on your shoes.

“Where do you want to-?” “Pass the keys.”

“You can't drive. It's not even legal, you don't have a permit.”

When you didn't respond, he crossed his arms over his chest, affixing you with a stern look, in as close to a show of responsibility over you as he had ever gotten.

“Are you asking me to teach you to drive?”

“No. I'm telling you that if you want to talk it'll be about the gear shift.”

Chance continued his staring for just a moment longer before nodding. “Let's go, then.”

For as long as you had known him, you had never seen Chance in the passenger seat of his own car – which served to you as a sign that he

“What's brought this on?” you asked with a side glance, accidentally putting on the wrong turn signal and quickly correcting the mistake. “You're breaking the law to hang out with me.”

“Not my first time breaking the law,” he commented under his breath. “You're my sister.”

You raised your eyebrows at the stop sign ahead of you. “Did you do a genetics test, or...?”

“If I'm responsible for a human life, it's useful for that human to actually communicate. I've made mistakes. Huge mistakes. You were kidnapped. Once by a psychopath, once by the government.”

“And…?”

“And that wouldn't have happened if I had listened to you for once. So I'm here. And I'm ready to talk to you about anything.”

“Anything?” The word was dangerous. It should have been outlawed years ago.

“Anything.”

“Have you ever had gay thoughts for Jason Taylor?”

The glimpse you managed of his expression was priceless. “The hell kind of question is that?”

“Unless,” you added with a wide grin, “you'd like to start this new relationship by lying to me-”

“I haven't had gay thoughts for Jason Taylor!” he sputtered, then paused. “More than once.”

“So you have had them!” Lifting your foot off the gas at a stoplight, you raised the roof triumphantly. “Called it.”

Frying My Nerves

“Eyes on the road, Y/N,” muttered Chance, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“Y/N! Over here!” You looked up curiously, seeing Tory stand and wave at your lunch table.

Approaching, you realized she was the only one there. “Where are-?”

“Oh, they're around. Somewhere. I just wanted to make sure you saw me.” She smiled.

“Tory. We always sit here, and in case you hadn't noticed, there's not that many redheads in this school,” you teased, but nonetheless sat down. “How's it going with you and Ben?”

Sighing, Tory asked, “Since when are you into girl talk?”

“No, we're talking about your boy, silly. Duh.” Leaning forward on your hands, you gave her your attention. “Tell me, does that darkness and mystery about him lend passion to your relationship?”

Her smile twisted downward into an oh, really? look. “Yeah, you're insufferable.”

“You didn't answer the question, unless – wait, you said yeah, was that my answer?”

The other girl didn't answer, only waggled her eyebrows. “It's… a little tense, but also intense.”

“Tense as in…?” you prompted.

“As in I literally made out with your-”

You covered your ears. “Ew, ew, ew! Disgusting! No more boy talk. Ever again. You ruined it.”

“No, we can still do boy talk. With the alarmingly small number of tolerable girls in this school,  I need to keep my options open.” Tory grinned nonetheless at your reaction. “He's not bad.”

“Who's not bad? And at what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side.

“They're both not bad at kissing.”

Groaning, you grit out, “Stop, stop, those are my brothers.”

“Brothers?” she repeated, copying your motion of tilting her head.

“Brothers. Friends. Same difference,” you scoffed, but you wouldn't take it back any time soon.

“It's just… weird.” Tory stole a fry off of your tray, waving it in the air as she spoke. “Ben and I. Normal boyfriends, you'd introduce them to your parents and then your dad would give them the whole what-are-your-intentions-with-my-daughter speech and you'd be super embarrassed. But he and Kit already know each other.” She put the fry in her mouth, brow furrowing. “We haven't really gone on any real dates, either. What did you and Hi do?”

“Well, Hi's never met my parents, if that's what you're asking,” you started, “and Chance doesn't really count, now, does he? They'd hate each other regardless of whether I was involved.”

“That's not what I meant. I meant, what did the two of you do for your first date?”

“I don't remember when it stopped being considered the two of us hanging out and started being dating,” you replied with a shrug. “He asked me to be his girlfriend in front of the Pineapple Fountain, I remember, and I almost shoved him in I was so surprised. I guess that would've been our first date.”

“Wait, he asked you to be his girlfriend there?” Tory snickered.

“What, you never knew? After that he started singing, 'Who's in front of a pineapple beside the sea? Hi's new girl-friend' and I broke up with him for all of five minutes.”

She stole another fry from the tray you hadn't touched. “So when Hi says he's been in more than one relationship with a beautiful girl more than once he's not lying?”

“I don't know. He might just be talking about his mother,” you mused in response with a laugh.

Tory's expression shifted. “You know, I think you're really strong and resilient and loyal.”

“What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“It just came to mind, with all that happened. And I'm glad you're willing to talk about it.”

Even so, you knew that part of the reason she forgave you so readily is because after what Ben had done to earn her affection, the grudge that Tory had held impacted her pack and her relationship.

She wouldn't let misunderstanding stand between her and the ones she loved again.

“Sure, sure, just make sure you call my cell and not the house phone next time you need me.”

“That was one time!” Her freckles were obscured by her furious blush.

“Yes, but the fact that you knew I was home and didn't consider Chance and started gushing about how I think I might have a problem, it's heavier than usual, it's painful and-”

“Shut up, shut up!”

Assailance at Sea

“Are you sure?”

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, raising both eyebrows. “Are you saying that I should leave you here on this beach alone, to whatever elements of nature, and your likely death?”

“Yes.” You laid in the sand, sprawling dramatically. “Leave me here. Let me die alone.”

“Get up, Y/N.” Stoic expression still in place, his voice betrayed his amusement.

“I won't burden you. I will become one with the sand. When you come back there will be naught to suggest my existence. You will walk on this beach and think of me, and wonder why.”

“I see why Hi and you mesh well together,” he commented, forcibly yanking you to your feet and onto Sewee. “I also see why he'll kill me if I let you die on this beach.”

“Awww, good to know, you're doing this for your own life and not mine.”

Ben's lips thinned. “That, and the fact that I want to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows arched, intrigued. “Recently everyone does. I should start charging.”

“Listen, I… you know Tory pretty well, right?”

“You want to talk about Tory? Really? First time alone with you in ages and you want to talk about your girlfriend? Honestly, you two are boring. Were Hi and I really this bad? Is this karma?”

“Yes,” he responded immediately, then adding, “Us two?”

“I will betray nothing of our private correspondences.”

“What if I offer you dirt on Hi?”

You didn't stop to contemplate for long. “She totally wants you to take her on a date.”

“He's thinking of asking you and Chance to dinner at his place with his parents.”

“No,” you breathed, eyes widening. “How do I know you're not lying?”

He shot you a blank stare. “Do you want to see the messages? “

“Wait, you have messages?” Lighting up, you proposed, “If you show me the messages I'll help you plan a date for Tory tonight on IM. Deal?”

“I'm betraying the integrity of the group chat in doing this,” he droned.

“Please. Like you care about the integrity of the group chat.”

“You know me so well.”

Ben passed his phone to you, and you lit up. “Wow. This is intense. So many messages.”

You frowned. “He really freaked out about this and proposed a role play while no one was on and then started acting as me, Chance, Linus and Ruth all by himself?”

“You know your drama queen.” He glanced over. “Wait, stop scrolling up!”

“You enabled me. You did this. This is international waters. I am bound by no law.”

“It's my boat. You're bound by the law of my fist.”

“Oh, Ben, you know exactly what to say to please a woman.”

Pretending to continue to scroll through the messages even as you had turned off the screen, you smiled to yourself, glad that the two of you were back to the way you always were.

You weren't sharing that much – Ben never had.

He was the closer-to-your-age and less frigid brother Chance wasn't, even if the story would probably be far different if the two of you lived in the same house and he had to drive you everywhere.

Still, he was like family.

“He's got characterization on point. Y/N: Wow, Mrs Stolowitski, these muffins are delicious. Hi: That's not the only delicious thing she's made. Chance: There's only so many things on this table.”

“None of us could read that. It was too painful.”

“It's like fanfiction. Can you imagine people making fanfiction about you?”

“You know Tumblr. It's a cesspool.”

“Morris Island is a cesspool. You're all criminals. Every one of you has committed a felony.”

“I guess we are.” Thinking you weren't looking, Ben broke out a grin. “Some of us steal hearts.”

“Benjamin Blue! You've been spending far too much time with Hi.”

“Any time is far too much time with that clown.”

Walking It Out

“Hey, sexy!”

You froze, hand at your side curling into a fist at the words, a voice you couldn't quite place.

“My beautiful babushka!”

Oh. It was only Hi. “You know that means grandma, don't you?”

Falling into step beside you, your boyfriend shrugged. “Doesn't matter. You'd make a beautiful grandma just like you make a beautiful girlfriend.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“You're blushing. I win!”

“I'm not blushing.” You rolled your eyes. “What's up? Did you just miss your ride home?”

“Worth it for you, but for the record, yes. Yes, I did. However, I have an excuse, and you're going to need to keep going straight here.”

“My house is to the right, though.” Tilting your head to the side, you chanced, “Are you high?”

“Yes, I am Hi, as a matter of fact. And you? Divine.” He grinned, a spring to his step as he half-tugged, half-dragged you in the wrong direction.

“I have a bag. I hope you aren't planning on taking me somewhere where they'll think I'm shoplifting. Or particularly far.”

Hi grabbed the bag off your shoulder. “Solved. Now I have you for as long as I want, right?”

“I finally convinced Chance to cook dinner, so you until my likely death by food poisoning.”

“When's he home?”

“Eight o'clock.”

“Plenty of time, plenty of time!” Your boyfriend smiled wider, if possible. “And I have your bag so you can't run away if you want to get your homework done.”

“Blackmail. Such lowliness you stoop to to get my attention.”

“Your attention is a sweet bliss as I do not deserve.” He grinned. “Guess where we're going?”

“There are so many places in downtown Charleston, I at least need a hint.”

“We've been there before.”

“Yeah, because that narrows down the options,” you drawled sarcastically, but soon processed your destination when one of two distinct fountains came into focus. “We're going to Waterfront Park?”

Hi applauded with a laugh. “You are indeed the genius that I gladly asked to be my girlfriend here. Yeah, we're going to Waterfront Park. You've been...” he drum-rolled on his thighs, “dated!”

“Tell me something I don't know.”

“You don't know that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on,” he replied.

Hi. Ever the charmer.

“Nor do you know that here – in the same park as the Pineapple Fountain, the Charleston symbol for hospitality and the accommodation of our small corner of the country, that which is south of the icy north's frigid and unwelcoming igloos and-”

“You're gushing because you're nervous about what you want to ask me, and you want specifically to ask me if I'll bring Chance – or, rather, he'll bring me – to your house to have dinner with your family because you feel our relationship has progressed enough that you would like me to meet your family, formally, as your long-term girlfriend and love.”

Now at a halt, it took several moments for Hi to regain control of his jaw to close his mouth.

When he finally managed to do so, his first words were, “What. The. Hell.”

Well, sorry, Ben, though it didn't seem that his first instinct was to blame one of the other boys.

“You're smarter than I thought. I mean, not that I didn't think you were smart. I thought you were smart – not smarter than Tory, I mean, I did but don't tell her that, and I guess you two are smart in different ways and-” He stopped, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “So, yes?”

“Yes, I'll have dinner with your family.” Smiling demurely, you added, “If Chance agrees.”

“I'll take my chances.”

He scrambled to find his footing as you attempted to push him into the fountain. “Assault!”

A/N: That’s done! I’m glad and sad at the same time. I’m working on something else for this world, and damn, I’ll get to work on a masterlist soon because this is most definitely getting intense. Thanks for reading!

#virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #ben blue #tory brennan #shelton devers #chance claybourne #jason taylor #bluenan #reader insert #female reader insert #(cries because it's done) #it's oVeR #welp time to get a life #i jest i jest i don't have a life #i can't center things i tried it failed #oh well #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 2 - Induction

A/N: Part two to this series! Ahhh I'm loving this and I hope this doesn't disappoint.

Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here!) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Request: Continuation of @writers-block0o0's request.

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma.Tell me if you want to be added.

Summary: When you get too curious, your brother drags you into the mess that is his research. Now, as the younger Claybourne, you face a difficult choice when he finds out your secret.

Warnings: Emotional blackmail. I think there's language? Yep, Chance says “damn”. Also, mentions of blood, mentions of needles, and unhealthy family relationships. Oh, and alcohol mentions! (This isn't as bad as it sounds?)

Word Count: 2,222

Other Notes: Female reader, and also, this one takes place between Exposure and Terminal – after Emma has been rescued and Chance reveals that he's been looking into the virus, but before he “joins” the Virals. Part three is under construction right this second!

You hadn't meant to get yourself into this mess. Truly, honestly, you had not.

Curiosity killed the cat, though, and satisfaction hadn't brought Y/N Claybourne back from the infection that her half-brother had forced upon her.

“Why did you do this to me?” you whispered, alone in your bed, rivulets of blood streaking the pillowcase in which you had wrapped your hand, the pain dulled but still present as it had not seemed in the moment.

What kind of a person alters the life of their younger sister permanently, without her asking for it?

It had to have been him. There was no other way – no other way of transmitting it, at least, not to your knowledge.

What other method of transmission could there be? Saliva? Too late.

STI?

You immediately put your head in your hands, cleansing the very thought from your head.

“Y/N. Come out and explain yourself. Now.”

You winced. “No.”

“You broke a mirror.”

“So?” You scowled. “You've broken things of far more value.”

“It's eleven at night.”

“Weren't you the one who came in at 2 in the morning saying you'd been breaking hearts?”

“I was drunk. You're not.” He paused. “Are you?”

“Do I sound drunk?” It would be considerably easy, with the fact that you knew where the liquor cabinet was and (though not to your brother's knowledge) where he kept the key.

Huh. Buying friends with alcohol. If you ever got desperate, you could always turn to ten year-old whiskey that probably cost a few hundred dollars.

Not that you would ever get that desperate, but the idea amused you enough that you almost missed what Chance said next.

“Talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know something you don't know.”

Childish. “Is this where you pretend that the advice you give me is good advice and I ignore it because even if it is good advice I would never take advice from you?” You unwrapped your hand slowly, wincing as it seemed to peel off where it had stuck.

“I know something you don't know about your boyfriend and his… pack of friends.”

The bedding slipped from your hands in surprise at his implication, the wording not escaping your notice.

As far as you knew, Chance had no idea of Tory, Shelton, Ben and Hi's infection.

“What do you mean?”

“Open the door.”

Cautiously, you crossed the room, taking a deep breath before finally unlocking the door.

“Yes, brother dearest?”

Even with the only light what streamed into the hallway from the bathroom you had just exited, it was easy to see from the disheveled appearance of the Claybourne heir that he almost certainly had not been sleeping, even before you smashed the glass.

In fact, you weren't sure when the last time he slept was.

“Have you seen anything… inhuman in your friends, Y/N?”

Smiling sweetly, you answered, “I think it takes more than what the average human has in order to be able to tolerate you. Does that count?”

He growled – actually growled. “This isn't a joke. They have a virus that they shouldn't even be able to catch! It's biologically impossible.”

“Did you give them this virus?” you asked, playing dumb and twirling hair around your finger. “Seems to me you're awfully concerned with someone else's business. Did you manage to sleep with all of them? Tell me, how is my boyfriend in-”

“You are insufferable. This could kill them.”

The world seemed to slow down a minute. “Kill them?” you repeated, a bit quieter, a bit less daring than you had been a minute ago. “Seems like it's something that you wouldn't want to spread so carelessly then, especially not to unsuspecting people. And you're concerned… why?”

Gaze boring into you, Chance answered. “Because they don't know what they have. Because it may be terminal. And because there's more infections than just the four of them. Myself included.”

“Oh, so you can catch a disease that it's biologically impossible for you to catch but you can't catch a ball? That's a bit messed up-”

“Damn it, Y/N, how do you not get it? This is what I've been working on. This is what I've been experimenting with, and everyone you care about could die from it.”

“Are you included in that? I don't think you should include yourself in that head count.”

Your brother grabbed you by the shoulders. “I don't care if you care about me. Do this for them.”

“What do you want me to do? Break more mirrors? Maybe some syringes?”

“I know what I put in you. You already have it. You've spiked.”

Spiked? Not quite the word you were used to for flaring, but it could be seen as such – especially as it was only doomed, apparently, to hurt you and others around you. “Tell me this,” you spat, starting to feel sick to your stomach. “The one person in the world you're supposed to protect, the one responsibility that you can't get rid of. Your half-sister. Who you're supposedly so concerned about… and you decide to experimentally shove a needle in her neck and infect her with something that could kill her?”

“I made a mistake. Want to live? Want to save your friends? You'll help me fix this. Or would you like to watch this virus betray its hosts? See the light pass from Blue's eyes? Witness Shelton's parents' reaction to finding out their son is dead too young? Watch Tory scream as her insides tear themselves apart? Break away from a kiss with Hiram and find out that you've been kissing a corpse?”

His words chilled you, and from the dark glint in his eye something told you he knew the effect he was having you.

“You are, of course, also welcome to help me find a cure to this, if you're not fond of seeing such things. Only catch is, this stays between us.”

Chance stuck out a hand.

“You're asking me to trust someone to help cure me of the very supposedly terminal illness that they themselves gave me.”

“Yes. I am.”

“You're asking me to sign up for something without knowing what you're going to ask of me?”

“Yes.”

“You're asking me to keep the fact that I'm doing something to save the lives of my closest friends from said friends?”

“Yes.”

“You're asking me to trust for protection someone who has proven time and time inept at their job of doing just so?” “Yes.”

You put your hand in his.

“I don't know how I share blood with someone as vile as you, but I'll do it. For Hi. For all of them.”

For answers.

“Ella's taking you out,” murmured Chance in your ear as he dropped you off the next morning. “Be ready after school.”

“What? Like a date?” you called after him. “Or murder?”

He didn't answer.

“I'm taken and kind of enjoy life, Chance!”

No response.

“Well, then.”

“Dates and murder can be arranged,” spoke Hi cheerfully, causing you to startle. “Oh, hey. I didn't see that you didn't see me there.”

“Hey yourself,” you replied.

“Feeling better? Jason looks perky. It's no wonder you're such a good kisser with me as your tutor.”

You groaned, remembering the sarcastic excuse you had given for leaving your friends. “I'm fine. Great, actually.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I was a little worried about you not texting me. You know, like what if he does have something I don't? I actually saw your brother yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Yep, it was a chance encounter.”

You smacked him, laughing nonetheless. “You're horrible.” “Ah, but Y/N, you're the one who's still with me.”

Hi kissed you lightly on the cheek, smiling warmly. “See you at lunch, pretty lady.”

“See you at lunch.”

Knowing the secret you were keeping, the words suddenly felt more hollow than anything you had ever said to him.

You don't get it yet. I hope you will.

“Hustle, Claybourne, hustle.”

You looked over your shoulder.

Of course. Ella Francis, star of the Bolton Prep soccer team, just as Chance had promised.

“What are you doing here?”

She leaned against your locker. “Come on. I haven't got all day. You already know.”

“Is this a date with love or a date with death?”

It seemed like something Hi would say.

“You're flirting with a less than desirable fate, so I'd say a much needed date with rationality. Maybe the two of you can stop for coffee on the way. Hurry up.”

Ella was beautiful, no doubt about it, but the dark look she held was about as attractive as the nausea coming upon you at what your brother might have planned.

“You're kidding. This is insane.”

“Nope. Put it on.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“You agreed to this. Ever heard of the concept fall from glory?”

“Are you referring to me?”

“No, I –  just put it on, okay?”

You sighed, taking the suit from Ella and begrudgingly moving into the bathroom to change into it. “Why do I need this, anyway?”

“Because nobody wants to make eye contact with someone on the phone in a suit. Obviously.”

“Where are we going?”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Where do you think? We're staking out territory.”

“Hold on, what?” You frowned, confused. “Territory?”

“Listen, did you not get the scoop or are you just playing dumb? We're in this game to finally win against Tory and the boys she's got wrapped around her finger. We're letting them know they've got company.”

Alarmed, you shook your head while exiting the bathroom. “That's not what Chance told me.”

“Okay, look here. You're doing whatever it is he promised you our way, or you're not doing it at all. Come on. We've got some watching to do.”

Hours later, you laid in your bed, exhausted, confused, and distrusting when your brother knocked on the door.

“Door's not open to liars.”

“I didn't lie to you, Y/N.”

You idly played with a pen, knowing you should get started on your homework but too tired to focus. “When I first moved here you said you wouldn't get involved in my business as long as I stayed out of yours.”

“You were outside the study! I had no clue what you'd heard.”

“You told me that you were sorry. You lied. You meant to do that to me and then you exploited me.”

He huffed. “Listen. I need to talk to you about what you saw today, or it'll get worse, all right?”

“Fine. Come in. You're still a liar.”

The door clicked open almost immediately, Chance leaning against the doorway. “Happy?”

“You're one of us now. Act like it.” His words were almost as cold as he was.

“Who's us?”

“Ella. Myself. Cole. You'll meet him later. If you prove yourself well enough.”

“Oh, it'll be such an honor to meet someone who joined this of their own volition! Almost enough to remind me that I was forced into this with my arm twisted behind my back!” you responded with a mock sense of cheerfulness. “Listen, okay? I don't understand how trying to take down the four of them will help cure them.”

“That's just what Ella thinks we're doing. Different lies. Different means to the same ends. The more threatened they feel, the more likely they'll be to be willing to get rid of this virus!”

You once idolized your brother, recognized that he was the favorite in the eyes of your father and destined for greatness. A long-term girlfriend, grounded in every way, his future laid out for him.

He had always been the one to dress to the nines and still look dignified, to keep his head in a room full of rich people he might not have known, to get the cars and the praise and the 'oh, look what your brother's done. I suppose your father might have done something well after all.'

You had been left with 'I take you in, you might at least try and do something as good as Chance, for once.'

He had robbed all the love.

You only looked up to him because of his height.

And in that moment, you realized love isn't quantifiable, nor does it balance – one can put as much love into something as they want.

It offers no guaranteed output, and you certainly weren't about to be the recipient of any sudden outflow of affection.

Instead, it'd go to the girl he was so fixated on. The one you considered a friend, the one whose other girl friend it would seem hated her.

It's always about Tory.

You were stuck in your brother's group of allies, like it or not. You would have to share this curse he'd inflicted upon you with people who considered it a gift.

“Even when I was kidnapped, I never felt this trapped,” you muttered, the words barely audible, not even to your own ears.

The tapping of his shoe against a plank in the hallway stopped, and for some reason you didn't feel any regret at having hit a sensitive spot.

“Leave me alone, Chance. I'll talk to you another time. For once, try and do something that'll serve anyone other than yourself.”

You turned over on the bed, listening to him walk away.

Even with him gone, you didn't sleep a wink.

A/N: Part three is over here!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #ella francis #chance claybourne #newest instalment! #only took me a year #hah no but there you go #there's some jealousy #there's a tad bit of humor #there's just a great thing here okay? #i'd like if you read it #maybe like it? #comment? #that would be great! #if you have a request #feel free to send it in #my message box is open #my submissions are open #my ask is open #and my door is open i should probably go close that #lol no i'm joking #nobody cares #here i go posting this at midnight #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 1 - Injection

A/N: Welcome to part one of a five-part series about the same Claybourne reader and Hi as my others. Enjoy!

Part 1 (You are here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Request: @writers-block0o0​ asked for some more with the same Claybourne reader, with the question “what if she was a Viral too?” She's still Hi's girlfriend, but this is less about them as a couple and more about her!

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0​. Tell me if you want to be added, because I’d love to add you.

Summary: Something's up with your half-brother, and there's no telling what it is. With his new job at Candela Pharmaceuticals, you expect him to be concerned with his work, but that doesn't explain how much time he's been spending in your father's study.

Warnings: There's no swearing in here! Not that I can tell, anyway, which is really quite surprising. However, it does contain needles, blood mentions, and vomiting, so there's always that.

Word Count: 2,345. Yes, really.

Other Notes: Female reader, and yes, this will have a part two! (Spoiler alert: it’s going to be a series.)

Something was up with Chance Claybourne.

Living almost alone with his half-sister, one didn't see him much around the house, but recently he had spent a suspiciously long amount of time in his father's study.

Our father's study, you tried to remind yourself, padding along the hallway in your socks, exhausted.

You walked by the door to the study, before pausing a moment and putting your ear to the door.

“Useless!” muttered Chance under his breath, the distinct thump on the desk what could only be him hitting it. “It makes no sense.”

Footsteps that started to near the door signaled not only that your brother was wearing shoes in the house, but that he was going to exit, and you scrambled away from the door, walking back so it would appear that you were approaching the study again.

The door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang, and Chance stormed out, startling when he saw you so close before starting to near you.

Backing away instinctively, you asked nervously, “Chance, why are yo- what's that in your hand?”

The long metal tip that was pointed out from his hand could only have been that of a syringe, and, terrified, you yelped as he pushed you against the wall.

“I'm sorry.”

He knocked you up the back of your head, sharply forcing your head forward and causing you to black out for a moment from the sudden loss of oxygen to your brain.

When you came to a few moments later, you were on the floor, your brother nowhere to be seen, and feeling the same as you had a moment ago but trepidation crawling its way through your skin.

What did he to to me?

Walking into the kitchen the next day after school, your eyes darted around the room, looking for what was out of place in the usually spotless room.

You saw it.

Raw ground beef, unwrapped but still on its tray, dripping.

Gross.

Who would leave that out? Unless it was a subliminal message telling you to cook dinner, there was no reason to have such a thing on the counter.

It looks good.

You froze, your eyes focusing on it, the urge making you want to vomit.

No, no, no, that's disgusting, there is no way I'm eating that. Realizing suddenly how close you had come, standing in front of the counter before even knowing that you had moved, you backed away.

To the other side of the counter.

Out of the room, for good measure.

What was that?

You walked decisively to your room, closing the curtains, before sitting down on your bed and pulling out your homework, hoping to take your mind off of what had just happened.

It was a shame that algebra wasn't intellectually stimulating enough to absorb you fully and keep you from your thoughts.

What had just happened in the kitchen was most definitely not normal. While it was a tendency of yours to check what was in the fridge right after getting home from school, you never would have pulled out any raw meats, nor noticed them as you just had.

So what had it been that possessed you in that instant, to think that the globs that were useless unless cooked were something that you wanted to eat?

“Y/N?”

“Chance?” What are you doing home? “Buzz off.”

You were still mad at him over what had happened yesterday, though you still weren't sure of how much of that you had imagined. After all, since what happened with the Gamemaster, you had had far too many intrusive thoughts and imagined being knocked out by a stranger in a thousand ways.

It wouldn't have been the first time.

Then, “I thought you were working late?”

“I got off early.”

It seemed too convenient.

“When did you get home?”

“Just a couple of minutes before you.”

“You left something on the counter.”

“Did I? I'm surprised you noticed.”

You scowled at the door suspiciously before proceeding to ignore the person on the other side in favor of silently wondering why he had been acting so strange recently without his voice to prompt more questions.

Lunch had never been so awkward as it was here, sitting with Ben, Tory, Shelton and, of course, Hi, and it certainly wasn't because of the conversation.

Oh, no. While it wasn't always interesting, the attitudes of everyone made any discussion topic into something far more passionate than it usually was. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was that you couldn't bring yourself to eat the food in front of you, and the first bite of your salad had almost made you gag.

In fact, you'd been nauseous even before that, almost passing out in the hall and catching yourself just in time on your way to the cafeteria.

“He was too,” argued Hi, as you tuned in to the conversation, before pulling out his English textbook, turning to the page on which Shakespeare's portrait was and holding it up to his face. “Wherefore art thou, oh opium? A poppy by any other name would taste as sweet. Perhaps I doth need to eat some more of this.”

Shelton and Tory snickered while Ben groaned at his impression of the English poet, complete with a ridiculous accent, but you didn't even crack a smile.

“Y/N?” Hi poked you on the arm which was holding up your head. “That was hilarious. Why aren't you laughing?”

“Sorry, it was so funny I forgot to laugh,” you replied bitterly, glaring at the back of some random student's head for lack of any better place to look.

Your boyfriend looked from you to Ben. “She's behaving like you, Blue. Which can only mean one thing, and that's that you infected her with your updog!”

“Shut up, Hi. That didn't work the last fifty times, what makes you think it'll work now?”

At least I'm not the only person in a foul mood. Shame it wasn't as common for you as it was for the oldest of your friend group.

“I'm going to the washroom,” you announced abruptly, standing and ignoring how you almost collapsed.

“Don't fall in! I love you but there's a line!” called Hi as you left.

Though grateful for the quiet that started to bring back your appetite, it certainly wasn't a salad that you were hungering for.

Like the other day, all that you wanted was meat, and the very thought was disconcerting as you turned and entered the bathroom, going to the sink and washing your hands, hoping the coolness of the water would help to jerk you back into reality.

Looking up at the mirror, what you saw caused you to blink rapidly, not convinced that it could be real.

You leaned forward to try and see more clearly what you had thought you had seen – a fringe of vibrant red around your iris, the flecks seeming to fade before your, well, eyes.

I must be imagining things.

“Y/N?” Tory frowned at you concernedly from the doorway of the bathroom, startling you. “Everything okay? That time of the month?”

Desperate for any way to explain what was happening, you found yourself nodding in agreement.

“Want some chocolate?”

Chocolate. The very thought was repulsive for some reason, tinging your skin with green as the nausea you had managed to distract yourself from worked its way to the surface, and you scrambled to move into a stall before chucking up what little you had managed to eat.

“This isn't just your period, is it?” asked Tory, holding back your hair. “Does it have something to do with Hi? You’re not as you usually - did the two of you?” 

“Jesus Christ, no! I think it's just a stomach bug. Probably just a twenty-four hour thing. I'll stop in at the nurse's office and get some Pepto, I should be fine.”

“Can I grab you anything? Are you sure you want to stay the rest of the day?” If there was one thing that could be said for Victoria Brennan, it was that she cared – and while her compassion was a comfort on most days, right now you just wanted her to leave you alone. “Do you want to come back and sit with us?”

Shaking your head, you replied, “I'll be fine. I think I'm just going to walk around a little bit before class starts.”

“What should I tell the boys?”

“I don't care. I'm in a dramatic love affair with Jason Taylor and you caught us in a steamy make out session in the science lab,” you suggested sarcastically, before moving to the door and leaving to collect your thoughts.

Privately.

What's Jason got that I don't? was the first thing you saw upon opening your phone, a joking text from Hi that he had sent at lunch.

You were seated in the passenger seat of Chance's car, the drive seeming excessively long, when it happened.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment and begged you to let it go faster, to give in to something distinctively animal, and without hesitation you embraced it.

Your vision seemed to clear, and you caught your reflection in the mirror, eyes gleaming red.

Shit.

It wasn't just your imagination. Something was distinctly wrong, and you turned to stare pointedly out the window, desperate to ensure that your brother wouldn't notice.

The drive home was too short. You couldn't risk whatever sort of episode you were having not ending before you got there.

You needed a different destination, and quick.

What Tory had said earlier was what first came to mind.

“I need to go to the drug store.”

Even looking out the window, you could practically feel your brother's suspicious glance. “Why?”

“I need supplies.”

“What supplies?” he pressed.

“Supplies,” you emphasized, hearing the breath Chance sucked in as he realized what you meant.

It might make the awkward drive longer, but it would give you more time to try and snap out of whatever you were going through, the car's air freshener becoming so suffocating that you rolled down the window.

Whatever you were going through, it was suspiciously close to what Hi had described when he was talking to you about flaring, and that was what scared you the most.

How would he react?

How does he snap out of this? Once he had described how slapping Ben in the face had ended a flare, and experimentally, you lifted your leg before violently jamming it against the bottom of the glovebox.

SNUP

Well, that worked well.

“You good?” asked Chance, voice tentative as if somehow the implication that you were on your period made you suddenly prone to lashing out at any given opportunity.

Eyes no longer red, you turned to meet his. “Yes. Just fine.”

As if. Something was wrong. And considering that it probably had something to do with whatever he had done to you the other day, it was probably best if you didn't tell him.

For some reason, the syringe didn't seem so much like your imagination any more.

Eleven o'clock, the numbers at the top of your phone screen read.

Late. Late enough that nobody would see you for several more hours.

Late enough that it was safe to slip out of bed and go into the bathroom, turning on the light and closing the door before turning to the mirror.

Before you lost your courage, you closed your eyes, trying to summon the feeling that had overwhelmed you in the car.

Animal. Letting go of what you thought was right, forgetting about school.

Forgetting about everything but your instincts.

It came almost too easily.

SNAP

Flare.

You inhaled deeply, the smell of the bar of soap in the dish on the counter sharp and bitter, eyes now able to distinguish the slimmest of cracks threatening to form in the porcelain of the sink.

It was exhilarating. It was wild.

And it was terrifying how easily it had come.

“Y/N Claybourne,” you whispered, your name seeming twice as loud as it should have been in the otherwise silent room, all of your senses heightened.

There was no hiding from it. Something was wrong with you.

Something that seemed suspiciously similar to what the Virals had been going through, but your eyes weren't yellow.

They were red as blood.

It hadn't taken several days. It had come on almost instantly, but with the same symptoms.

Just… more control.

What is it? It couldn't be the same as what Hi and Ben and Shelton and Tory had gone through, but it was remarkably similar. It couldn't be the same virus - that had been eliminated along with Dr. Karsten.

It has something to do with Chance.

Shuddering as you felt bile rise to your throat, you turned off the light, the only thing you could see in the darkness the haunting reflection of the red eyes in the mirror, taunting you with questions that you weren't sure you could trust anyone to answer.

Frustrated, your fist reeled back, thumb on the outside as you Ben had taught you, before ramming into the glass of the mirror and shattering it.

SNUP

Your amplified strength had caused it to break with far more force than anticipated, shards starting to fall into the sink and the sharp pain enough to kill your flare. 

What was that?

You sucked in a ragged breath, blood starting to drip from your hand, before turning away, unlocking the bathroom door and crying out as you find a breathless Chance on the other side.  

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you bit out, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder. “I'm going to bed.”

And with that, you pushed past him, ignoring his calls and idly brushing your hand to remove the shards of glass.

Breaking a mirror, you were alright with him finding.

Why? Not so much.

Let's hope he never finds out.

You could only pray that he wouldn't notice how much more force it took to make such a break than you possessed.

A/N: That’s done. And there we go! Thanks for reading. Leave a like or comment? Part two is here!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #ben blue #tory brennan #shelton devers #chance claybourne #i can't believe i got that word count #or that nobody really likes this #no self pity! i got this out and i'm glad my writing is desirable #i just ordered a binder and i'm super jazzed #money gets to come out of my bank account yay for that #not #but hey birthday in a few months #that's all folks #thanks for reading #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 3 - Insurrection

A/N: With this this little serial is 60% done! I have two parts left – none as action packed as this, they're mostly fluff, but hey, who doesn't love fluff? This one is the continuation of Seeing Red, as you can tell from the title. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (You are here!) | Part 4 | Part 5

Request: Continuation of @writers-block0o0's request!

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma. Tell me if you want to be added.

Summary: Serving as a member of the Trinity – which, ironically enough, contains four people – you're dragged into things you never wanted to do under your half-brother. Soon it gets to be too much.

Warnings: Okay! This one is pretty intense. Matches and gasoline with implication that they're to be used for arson. Language – the word “asshole”, “asshat”, “ass”, twice “shit”, and “damn”. Use of God's name in vain, guns, gun fire, blood, violence, unhealthy family relationships, and slight PTSD. Angst. Really all-in-all just bad.

Word Count: 3,000

Other Notes: Female reader, and also, this one takes place during Terminal. J'espère que vous l'aimerez – I hope you'll like it! I wrote this really damn fast but I think it's good. I ALSO FORGOT SOME CRUCIAL PLOT DETAILS IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT FORGIVE ME IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING WEIRD.

“There's a reason Cole sounds like asshole,” you grumbled to Chance as he drove you to another infuriating, obscure location for another infuriating, meaningless job.

He nodded. “He's not the most stellar, personality-wise.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Live with it, Y/N.”

He parked, and you got out of the car, wincing as the Trinity member's wolf whistle met your ears.

You chanced a glance at your brother, wondering what his reaction would be.

“She's taken, asshat,” bit out the older Claybourne, eyes flashing.

“Doesn't mean I can't admire the only good thing your father's made.”

Exasperated, you stalked across the grass to Cole, grabbing him roughly by his shirt collar.

“Mmmmm, you're a woman with-”

Whatever he was about to say, you would never know, because your fist meeting his face effectively silenced his next words.

“Damn, no need for violence,” he muttered, rubbing his cheek with a scowl.

“Compliment me again and I'll be sure I flare before I hit you,” you threatened with a smile, relishing the horror that his expression morphed to show.

That aside, you begrudgingly got to work.

You wished that was the worst thing you had ever had to do.

You would be wrong.

“I can't do this. Don't make me do this.”

Backed into a corner, you knew that you had no choice.

What would Chance do if you didn't obey? It didn't matter what he did to you.

If you didn't go along with this, your best friends in the world could die.

But if you did, they would be devastated.

“Take the car. There's gasoline and matches in there. Don't crash it.”

You winced, not sure whether his concern was for you or for the car. “Okay. I'll do it.”

“I'll take care of Tory. Make it quick.”

And with that, he placed the car keys in your hand and left through the front door.

“This isn't legal,” you murmured, before making your way to where the car was parked and unlocking the door. “This isn't right.”

“This isn't what I signed up for.”

But if it was what it took…

It was difficult to be inconspicuous when you had to reach the island by boat while carrying flammables, but you had managed.

It was difficult to find again the bunker, especially in the dark, but that you had also managed.

Dousing the belongings of your best friends in the world with gasoline after they had taken you into their secret hangout spot and shown you how significant it was to them?

Something it was proving exceedingly difficult for you to manage.

Taking your phone out of your pocket, your finger hovered over the names in your contacts, wanting nothing more than to talk to someone.

You couldn't call Tory. That would have been your first bet, but she was with Chance, if he was to be believed.

Hi's name had a heart next to it, and you smiled lightly, before having the happiness fall from your face as you realized that he would be the last person you'd want to see you like this, no matter the reason.

Ella wouldn't understand. She'd just do it herself.

Chance? Never.

Ben would be less understanding than Ella. He'd never forgive you if he-

“Y/N?”

You whipped around to the source of the noise, the matchbox tumbling from your grip and your phone almost joining it.

“Ben, I can ex-”

“You're in the bunker. Alone.”

Shit.

“Again, I can-”

“You have a match box.”

“Ben, I-”

“You're one of them.”

He crossed the room, the way he stalked silently reminding you of a predator as he closed in.

“It's not what you think.”

The laugh that escaped Ben's lips was harsh, cutting the thick air and slicing through to your heart. “You know what? I get it.”

“Wh-what?”

“You wanted to be something more. You wanted to be special. So you decided to do something you knew was wrong to be seen as a hero when you fixed it.”

“That's not it at all!” you retorted. “I didn't have a choice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I don't exactly see anyone here forcing you to try and burn down the bunker.”

“It wasn't my fault!” you cried frantically.

Quieter, you repeated the words, trying to convince yourself that they were true.

Hoping that they were true, because that was the only thing holding you together.

“He did this to me.”

“Who?”

“He's the one who made me this.”

“Y/N. Who is he?”

“He did this to me! My own brother!”

He didn't get it. Of course not.

“He made me this monster.”

SNAP

Your emotions spiraling out of control, your discipline over your flare finally gave way, your more alert red-eyed gaze catching how Ben's resolve seemed to shatter just from examining his face.

“Monster?” he repeated, a rare tinge of pain accenting the word.

Footsteps pounded from outside, and the two of you turned, red eyes telling you who it was before the rest registered.

Shit.

“I thought my instructions were clear.”

“I'm sorry,” you whispered. “Where's-?”

“I trusted you.”

“They're my friends! They're my family. Not that you'd know what that means.” Feelings suppressed for so long came to the surface, the bottle of emotion suddenly spilling over. “They love me. You never did. If you loved me, you wouldn't have made me-”

Wouldn't have forced me to go against the people who actually do love me, you wanted to finish, but he started to reach for a bulge at his hip, the gun he pulled out one you could never have prepared for. “You've left me no choice.”

Chance's face blurred into that of the Gamemaster, your memory of the experience and the gun he had held to your head resurfacing as panic set in.

You scrambled away from the person your traumatized mind tried to convince you was the same psychopath who had done horrible things to you, reality becoming obscured with the fear setting into your system.

Pulse racing, you blinked rapidly, not able to fully comprehend what was happening, overwhelmed as your mind betrayed you.

A flash of red hair and a sharp crack of the gun had hardly registered before you were shoved to the ground.

Tory.

It was all moving too fast, too fast for it to register, too fast for you to come back to reality, too fast for you to do anything to stop what was happening.

Tory rolled off of you, clutching a hand to her arm as your eyes, now seeing clearly, sought out Chance to see if he had any remorse for what he had just done.

To see if there was any part of him that was still human.

He looked down at the gun in his hand, something seeming to shift in his expression, and then his gaze flicked to the red starting to bloom on Tory's sleeve.

With his flare now gone, the pain in his eyes was no longer obscured.

I didn't want it to come to this, his expression seemed to say, as he cast away the gun as if it were a snake.

You couldn't help but wonder if he'd have had the same reaction to having realized he had shot you.

“I'll kill you,” hissed Ben, alerting you to the presence you had almost forgotten, anger making its presence known in the baring of his teeth, the narrowing of his eyes, the way his entire posture had shifted.

But Chance was silent, as if accepting his fate.

Something inside him had broken, and you could only hope that it was the part of him that had stopped being human.

“Let's go, Y/N.”

He left the room without another word, taking your following him for granted.

You didn't follow.

“Are you okay, Tory?” you asked quietly, the smell of blood flooding your nostrils.

She smiled painfully. “Superficial wound, really. I'll be fine. What's up with your eyes?”

Summoning the control you had fought so hard to gain, you released your flare.

SNUP

Concern took its place.

“We'll worry about that later. Are there bandages in here?”

Ben stole out of the room, coming back a moment later with a first aid kit.

“I've got her, Y/N. I… I think it might be best if you got home.”

I don't think I can bear it if you stay was what he didn't add. The lack of conviction in his voice scared you more than if he had yelled at you.

“I agree,” you replied, “but I'm not quite ready to go to a home with nothing between Chance and I.” You managed a smile. “Besides. I think we're going to have to take Tory's shirt off in order to treat this, and it's a little early in your relationship for you to see that, don't you think?”

Tory giggled at the look on his face. You couldn't blame her.

But it quickly returned to the serious expression that he wore so well as he nodded. “How are you getting home?”

You shrugged. “I'd say the same way I got here, but I'm assuming Chance took that.”

“Call me when you're done.”

Watching his shadow retreat, you turned back to Tory.

“I had no idea,” she said quietly, “that Chance was like that.”

You nodded as you pushed away her shaking hands, taking over the job of unbuttoning her shirt for her. “He's a complicated man.”

“He's been experimenting, hasn't he? And he dragged you into it?”

“Something of the sort,” you answered quietly, grimacing when the shirt started to stick, saturated with blood as it was. “Tell me if I'm hurting you.”

“How long have you been… like this?”

Infected, she doesn't say, because she seems to know it's like a plague to you.

“Remember when I puked in the toilet at school and you basically asked if I was pregnant?”

Her eyes widened in realization. “I should have seen it.”

“How could you have? There was nothing to suggest it was more than a flu, and besides, weren't you under the impression that it died with Karsten?”

“Chance flared in front of us, though. I should have known there would be others.”

You frowned. “He did?”

“You didn't know? That's why he's been spending so much time with us.”

“He has?”

Tory nodded, her eyes pained. “Recently, you've been drifting away. He's sort of filled in that gap – not that, not that he could ever replace you, but-”

“I get it.”

And get it you did.

All those missions that he'd sent you on, all those times stalking your friends and moving rocks and staking out territory.

All those interactions with Ella, having to ignore her hatred of Tory, with Will’s delusion that he was the leader and his pretending that Chance didn’t orchestrate all of the Trinity’s moves, with Cole’s comments on how “your brother's an ass and you've got a nice one, must run in the family”.

All those times you'd had to turn down invitations to hang out because of what had been planned.

Of course he'd have used it.

Of course he'd have gotten close to them.

He'd purposefully ripped out the stitching holding you into your friend group and sewn himself in with new threads weaved of lies and deceit.

Was it really to help them, or to get closer to the girl he was in love with?

You weren't sure you would ever know, nor that you wanted to.

Instead of letting the anger now forming beneath your skin rise to the surface, you funnelled the rage into focus as you dressed Tory's wound, seeing now that it was clean that the bullet had grazed her but not entered – shaving off the skin and making it look far worse than it was. You could handle this.

Thank God. After all, with your current state, it wasn't as if you could exactly take her to a hospital.

“Are you okay?”

You almost laughed at Tory's concern. “You got shot and you're asking me if I'm okay?”

“It's only physical, it'll heal,” she replied calmly. “You're finding out that your brother betrayed your trust and used you while simultaneously trying to replace you.”

“My trust? I've never trusted him. He's young. He's stupid. And until he realizes that, I won't give him the respect he thinks he deserves, simple as that.” You shrugged. “He's got a heart somewhere in there, I'm sure. He cares for me, his ambition just obscures it. And right now he's invested so much in one person that he's become less aware of others.”

You had never quite thought it through, but you found the words came easier than you would have expected, as if they’d been there all along.

“So it's… my fault,” she muttered.

“No,” you replied firmly. “You are what you love, not who loves you.”

“Deep.”

“It's a Fall Out Boy lyric.”

“Still deep.”

You pulled out your phone, smiling shyly to yourself. “You don't hate me?”

“Hate you? How could I hate you?” Tory laughed. “You're an awesome friend and I understand why you've been keeping this from us. We kept our flaring from you for the longest time. But you make us happy. You make Hi happy. Not that he's not constantly cheerful, but he's in love with you and you both want the same thing – to be loved and to be in love.”

“Deep.”

“It's a One Direction lyric.”

“Still deep.”

The two of you laughed as you dialled Ben, him picking up on the first ring.

“She'll live,” you announced as soon as you heard the ring fade.

“I'll be there in a minute.”

He hung up, leaving you in silence.

“So, I haven't talked to you in a while. Any juicy relationship gossip?”

She smirked. “Your brother is a good-”

“Shut up! Shut up!” You smacked her on the arm, laughing, time apart almost forgotten in the way you interacted.

At least she forgives me.

You could only hope that the rest of your friends could come to do the same.

“You control it really well.”

It had been awkwardly silent between you and Ben for the last few minutes, the boy you considered a brother obviously somewhat hurt by the fact that you had been keeping a secret from him, and his words surprised you.

“What?”

“Your flaring. You never lost control in front of us.”

You shrugged. “You guys just never made me mad enough.”

He chuckled lightly, the rare sound music to your ears.

“You must not have listened to Hi much recently, then. The man's running commentary is enough to make anyone homicidal.”

Ben was back, and you couldn't be more relieved that he was talking to you.

After all, when the man's coping strategy was “ignore until it goes away”, it demonstrated that he must have at least partially forgiven you.

“I didn't expect you to get it,” you confessed, wringing your hands in your lap.

“Please. I think I win the bad decisions that put my friends' lives in danger game.”

“I didn't put anyone's life in danger.”

“See? You're already losing.”

You laughed lightly at his bluntness, before asking, “Are you going to tell Hi?”

Ben exhaled loudly, turning away from you as he considered his response. “That's a tough question to answer. Is he going to see Tory's arm in the morning and ask what happened? Yes, he's too curious for his own damn good. Is Tory going to go into full detail and explain everything? That, I cannot say.”

He cast a side glance at you. “He's going to find out one way or another. Chance can't just hold on to the foolish idea that after that, we're not all going to know.

“The question is, are you ready to risk losing the love of your life by telling him this? Are you fully prepared to accept if he doesn't feel he can trust you any further and the two of you break up? Will you understand if he's hurt and keep your distance if he asks?”

Ben turned to look you in the eye. “I won't blame you if you avoid the problem. God knows I've done enough of it myself with Tory. I won't blame you if you stall so you're fully prepared for however he reacts. I won't blame you if you never say anything at all.” He shrugged. “I'm your friend no matter what. Even if I don't always act like it. And, quite frankly, I care about you too much for you to get hurt over this. Just because I get it doesn’t mean he will, much as he loves you.”

“Ben...” You didn't know how to react to his sudden shift in demeanor, so unrecognizable from his usual emotional detachment.

“Now mention that I said any of that and we're going to have a real problem.”

There was the Ben Blue you knew.

“Said any of what?”

“Exactly.”

Looking out on the gentle waves lit only by the moonlight, you felt everything, the weight of what you had done, catch up to you.

You would never approve of your own actions.

But at least you could accept them.

“I'm so tired,” you murmured to the salt water, leaning your head against the rail of Ben’s beloved Sewee.

You weren't sure how you'd face Hi in the morning, or how you could speak to Chance after what he'd done, and what he’d made you do - the wedge that he’d driven in between you and your friends, that you weren’t certain would ever be fully forgotten.

Meaningful thoughts blurred into meaningless words that started to overlap as you tuned in to the sounds of the boat's motor, adrenaline long gone from your system and your sleep deprivation catching up.

It wasn't long before you succumbed to the exhaustion, knowing that you were safe with Ben and, to be quite honest, relieved that you didn’t have to stay awake any longer.

A/N: Part four is here!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #ben blue #tory brennan #will speckman #cole whatever-his-last-name-is #ella francis #this! was so easy! to write! #i'm relieved #so it's out super early #it's all uphill from here motherfuckers #sorry i have a bad mouth #this was a lot of non-dialogue #which is weird for me but i liked it a lot #it was new! #so i hope you like it #please leave a comment #or a like #or even reblog? #thanks for tolerating my bullshit #i will queue this now so i'm not posting both parts in one day #have a lovely one! #stop tagging now #shut up addi

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Wild Animal - Hi Stolowitski x Claybourne!Reader

A/N: Look at me, getting shit done! This is another request filler in the same universe as the previous one, with the same reader. The first oneshot can be found here. I wouldn’t say you have to read it, but it’s useful.

Request: “Part two of that oneshot - she gets in a fight at school because some wanky kid tries to corner her after something she says.” Paraphrased because we talked a while on it, but that’s the premise! Courtesy of @writers-block0o0.

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: I don’t know why I put this in. I guess I’ll just tag @quaintnessandqueerness because it feels right?

Summary: Months after your being kidnapped by the Gamemaster, you’re mostly recovered - or so you think. Takes place during Terminal

Warnings: Not near as bad as the prior one. We got language - “bitch”, “bastard”, “dick” and “shit” - basically my daily vocabulary - and fistfights which is bomb as hell, but I get if you don’t like it. And there’s some sensitive material in here - PTSD, specifically. Also a dick joke.

Word Count: 1,357.

Other Notes: This is with a female reader, as per request. I really like the other ideas that I’ve got for this series, so just keep an eye out for those! Oh, and also, this is a slight UA (universe alteration) in which Bolton Prep wasn’t so dickwaddish as to kick Ben out.

Sitting in an English class learning about Shakespearean drama was about as boring as it could get - not because it was difficult, but because you already knew the topic at hand.

There was just about nothing that you could be taught, especially not about the theater itself.

Someone put their hand up, and you didn’t really pay attention to what he said.

That being said, you still heard clearly, “How could the crowds have believe pre-pubescent boys’ impressions of women?”

Please. Who didn’t know that there were no women actors in the Globe?

“It’s not that hard to impersonate a woman,” you found yourself saying, all eyes in the room turning to you. “I mean, you just have to have a higher pitched voice and walk as if you have nothing between your legs. I suppose it would be easy for you, the latter especially, considering there’d be no real change-”

“Ms. Claybourne!” interrupted the teacher, reminding you that you were in a classroom as classmates quietly snickered. 

“Sorry, just slipped out. Won’t happen again. Did you know that the line from Romeo and Juliet, ‘a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’ was both a pun and an insult because the Globe’s rival theater, the Rose, had a sewage problem?”

While the class’s attention was distracted from your outburst, there was no denying the way that Grant Deacon was glaring at you.

Disconcerted, you hoped that he would forget about it, feeling yourself shrink lower in your seat as the lesson continued.

Fifteen minutes after school, you finally drifted towards your locker, the halls now considerably emptier and not near as suffocating as they could be during the day.

“Claybourne!”

You froze, hoping that they were calling your brother even as you knew that your brother didn’t go to school here anymore, but no such luck was in your favor as the same student you had insulted - albeit immaturely - came down the hall, clearly headed in your direction.

Instinctively, you started backing up, calling out, “Back off!” Grant approached closer, and you looked over your shoulder at the empty hall.

Shit.

“You’ve got a wild animal cornered!” you added, starting to panic as you held your hands up, textbooks skittering to the ground with loud thumps.

Please don’t come closer, please don’t come closer-

“You think you’re funny, do you?” he taunted, now only a few feet away. “Not so tough on your own, are you? I guess you’re used to hiding behind your big brother. No such luck here, though. Daddy’s in prison, whatcha gonna do?”

Pressed against a wall, you hissed through your teeth as he got close enough that you could smell his breath.

“I guess you’re a pretty thing, though, if you ignore the fact that you’re so goddamn stuck up.” Grant smiled at you but his grin only sent chills up your spine, your vision starting to be framed with red when he put his hand on your shoulder.

All of your rational thought was robbed as you attacked him back, panicking as you frantically attempted to get his hands off.

“Bitch!” he cried out, grabbing you by the uniform blouse as you kicked and screamed, one of his large hands going to your thigh and threatening to go up your skirt.

Footsteps squeaking on the tiled floor of the hallway only made you claw at him even more feverishly, hoping that nobody would see you for what you were.

Freak.

Hands under your arms made you reverse your efforts to kick back, but the voice soothed you.

“Y/N, it’s just me. It’s Hi. Calm down.”

The red in your sight started to wane as a dark figure that you couldn’t see quite clearly ripped Grant off of you, before decking him.

Hyperventilating even as your distress started to become less prominent, rationality started to tell you that what you’d done was wrong as Grant spat at the ground, blood coming out of his mouth, before stalking off. “Freak, just like the rest of you.”

Two buttons were on the floor from where you had ripped at his shirt, and claw marks from your scratching fingernails contrasted red against pale white on Grant’s forearms. Your textbooks had slid to the ground from when you had dropped them, the memory still vivid and nauseating.

“What have I done?” you whispered, turning around in Hi’s arms so you wouldn’t have to look anywhere but his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

His hand rubbed circles into your back as he made eye contact with Ben over your head. “You did what you had to, Y/N.”

“I made him bleed.” Then, realising that almost everyone else had already left, “What are you still doing here?”

“Thickburger here was going to ask you on a date tonight,” answered Ben for Hi, “but couldn’t find you.”

He gathered the textbooks off the ground as you mumbled unintelligibly into Hi’s chest, savoring his warmth and taking in the familiarity. “I guess Chance and I are more similar than I thought. Both of the Claybournes, crazy. It’s from our father’s side, then.”

“Y/N. You’re not crazy.” Hi spun you around and held you at arm’s length, holding your gaze with his.

“That was animal. Even you four don’t fight like that when you’re flaring, and you have wolf DNA.”

“You’ve been through a lot. More than he has. Nobody can blame you for that. You panicked. It’s natural. But if we hadn’t come, what do you think he would have done to you?”

“He didn’t deserve it,” you murmured quietly. “It was my fault.”

“Y/N, he had his bloody hand up your skirt,” spoke Ben bitterly. 

“That’s not why he attacked me,” you responded, adding quietly, “it’s because I insulted his dick.”

“Hold on a second, what did you just say?” asked Hi, eyes lighting up.

You frowned, looking anywhere but the two boys as you answered, a little louder, “I said it would be easy for him to walk as if he had nothing between his legs.”

He pulled you into his arms, causing you to yelp, grinning. “See, Ben? This is why I love her.”

“You love me?” you repeated. “After that?”

“Listen here.” He sat on the floor, pulling you against his chest. “You are beautiful. You are strong. And what you went through doesn’t change that.”

“But-”

“Shhhhhh,” whispered Hi, pressing a finger against your lips. “You are strong because you never stopped fighting that bastard. You are strong because you came out of that situation, and I know you have trauma from that. Who wouldn’t? It’s not changed how I think of you.”

You relaxed into his arms with a sigh as he added, “I love you, Y/N. And I always will. And you’re going to let me buy you dinner tonight and I’ll continue to tell you every single reason I’m in love with you, like the way you talk and your beautiful wit and when you insult my Twinkies because you love me but they’re not real-”

“If,” cut in Ben, leaning against the wall with a curled lip and your textbooks in his arms, “you’re quite done here, Hi, I’ll remind you that I’m your ride home and you’re going to see her tonight.”

Looking up, you asked teasingly, “Who said that? I never accepted.”

“Come on, we all know you’re going to say yes. Who could refuse this?”

Laughing, you shook your head at your boyfriend’s antics, nodding demurely. “I suppose I could deign to honor you with my presence.”

Hi pulled you to your feet as he kissed you on the cheek, adding, “Wish I could stay with you but the man calls. He doesn’t get my love for you.”

“I’d say he does,” you added, raising an eyebrow at the darker skinned boy, “but he doesn’t have the same guts.”

“Might I remind you that you asked him out?” retorted Ben, pointing a finger, causing you to laugh, the incident that had just passed almost forgotten as you smiled at your boyfriend and honorary brother, glad that they would always have your back.

A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!

#virals series #hi stolowitski #hiram stolowitski #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #ben blue #this is short! but i like it! #and it didn't take too long #i checked it over only ten times #and yeah! so here it is #i hope you like it selah #if you don't that's cool #and there! #it's done #love you people who read my shit #hope you enjoy!!!

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 4 - Inspection

A/N: Who’s ready for some well-deserved fluff? Hi didn’t make much of an appearance in the last few, so here’s the Hi/Reader that I technically promised. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here!) | Part 5

Request: Still on @writers-block0o0’s request!!!

Navitgation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0, @imaginesbyemma, tell me if you want to be added!

Summary: It’s hard for you to come to terms with what you’ve done as a member of the Trinity the next day at school. When your boyfriend is concerned, 

Warnings: Flufffffff!!!!! As well as language - “dick wad”, “cock”, “fuck”, and mock mentions of “kinkshaming”. A boy whose girlfriend’s contact name is “daddy”. A little bit of sexual reference, but all in all quite mild.

Word Count: 2,500

Other Notes: Female reader, this is right after the last one! I hope you enjoy.

Technically speaking, your half-brother was supposed to give you a ride to school today.

But given that he had tried to kill you last night, you decided that it would be better to take the walk, leaving a note for him.

Walking to school today, dickwad, you left on the counter, a heart over the ‘i’ in dickwad, before grabbing your bag and leaving out the door.

You hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

You were avoiding people – there was really no doubt about it – but you felt sick to your stomach at just the utter mindlessness of the school day, and how it did nothing to distract you from the events of last night that already felt ages away.

After an irritatingly simple math class, you finally gave up and called your brother.

“Y/N, I-”

“Can you call and sign me out?”

“I’m not home-”

“I know.” I’m glad for it, actually.

“I’ll call.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you hung up the phone, making your way to the office and signing out before finally being free from Bolton Prep.

It didn’t escape your notice that leaving before lunch also meant you wouldn’t have to speak to Shelton, Hi, Tory and Ben.

“I have to talk to her.”

“Hi, no,” argued Shelton, shaking his head. “She’s obviously got to be traumatized.”

But Ben was nodding along with Hi’s words. “We should at least check on her.”

“No, I’m with Shelton. She needs her space.”

“But, I… I miss her,” sighed Hi, absently twirling a fry in ketchup.

“Hi. Do you want to talk to her for that reason, or because you want to know what it is about her that Tory and Ben are leaving out?” asked Shelton, looking him in the eye.

“She almost got shot! If I almost got shot I know you people would be right there.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “If you almost got shot it would be impossible for us to forget because you’d be bemoaning it for days.”

“He’s got a point,” Tory conceded, amused. “Tell you what. We give her her space during the school day, and then after school we’ll check up on her at her locker.”

“Good idea.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s a good plan but I still miss her.” Hi leaned onto his hand, looking dejectedly at the fry that was thoroughly and somewhat grossly saturated and casting it aside. “Concept. You two get together and satisfy my need for cuteness in my day-to-day life.”

“Concept. Shut up, Hi.”

Tory elbowed Ben in the side but did nothing to hide the flush of red that overtook her.

“Come on. What’s their ship name again, Shelton? Bory?”

“You should really stop shipping real people,” he sighed, “but for the record it was Bluenan.”

“Shelton! Don’t encourage him.” This time, Tory expressed the sentiment.

“Don’t worry, I have a square chicken plush,” stage whispered Hi to Shelton, “I’ll show you. It’s called… the Cock Block.”

“Shut up, Hi,” repeated Ben and Tory, now in unison.

“Wow, not even a couple and already in sync! You should either get together or start a boy band.”

He clutched his leg in mock agony as he was kicked.

“All of you are just denying the obvious.”

“Can it, Thickburger.”

“Where is she?” asked Tory concernedly, at your locker with Ben and Hi after school.

Shelton jogged up to them. “She wasn’t in tech. I don’t think she’s here today.”

“She was here this morning.” Ben frowned. “Did she go home?”

“I’m calling her,” spoke up Hi, quickly tapping in the speed dial.

“I have two questions,” murmured Shelton, looking over Hi’s shoulder.

“It’s ringing. Shoot.”

“First of all, why is her speed dial 666?”

Tory snickered as Hi answered, making direct eye contact, “Because of her devillish lovemaking.”

It was a struggle as the other boy choked out his next question. “Why is her contact name Daddy?”

“Oh my God, Shelton, stop kink shaming me!” called out Hi as the phone stopped ringing, abruptly going silent then groaning once sent to voice mail. “Hi, Y/N, it’s Hi. Shelton is kink shaming me and I need you to defend me, daddy. I love you, baby. Please call me back.”

He sighed, hanging up, before redialling the number.

“What if she didn’t go home? What if she was super vulnerable and something happened? What if those Trinity assholes got to her?”

He was concerned for you, and five calls to voicemail later, he finally relented.

“Tory, you have Chance’s number, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll dial.”

“I really hope his speed dial isn’t 666 for the same reason,” muttered Hi without the usual note of humor in his voice, his worry evident just by his tone.

“Nah, I was upset with him last night,” answered Tory, handing him her cell with the volume high enough that they all would be able to hear. “Don’t make it weird.”

“What do you mean? I shouldn’t pretend to be you and tell him to-” the ringing stopped as Chance picked up the phone but Hi continued in his largely inaccurate impression of Tory “-talk dirty to me?”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Look, asshole, I really hate you,” started Hi without explanation, his voice quavering now that he was on the phone, “but – where is she?”

“She? Hold on, who is this? You’re not Tory.”

“Wow. Tell me something I don’t know.” He rolled glassy eyes.

“This is – Hiram, then? Just a second.” Chance’s voice stopped, a rustling on the other end. “I’m sorry, who are you looking for?”

Blinking, your boyfriend retorted, “Who do you think? Y/N, of course.”

“Y/N?” he repeated. “She’s not at the house?”

“The house? School just ended.” Fixedly looking at the other three, Hi added, “Since when has she been home?”

“I don’t know, a while. I called in for her a few hours ago.”

“You called in?”

“Yeah, she asked if I could.”

He frowned. “She called you?”

“Look. I fucked up. She’s not… she’s not in a good place right now. She wasn’t happy about having to call me. Have you tried calling her?”

“Do you think you’re anything but a last resort?”

“I don’t know why she’s not answering you, then. You can check on her if you want. Is that all?”

Tory held out her hand for the phone. “Don’t think you’ll be forgiven any time soon.”

She stopped the call, before fixing the three with something between a grimace and a smile. “Well then. I say she needs her space.”

“You’re the boss,” answered Shelton with a shrug, but Hi wasn’t so easily convinced.

“I’m going to go see her.”

Ben shook his head before relenting. “I’ll take you tonight. After dinner.”

“Romantic boat rides after dark? I can’t believe I have to cheat on Y/N to get to her.”

“Keep it up and you won’t be getting there at all.”

“Okay, okay, shutting up.”

You sat in your room, curtains closed, music on, homework open, eyes puffy, and ice cream container halfway finished.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t healthy for you to eat a pint of ice cream in one sitting at eight o'clock at night, even when someone else was home.

Then again, strictly speaking, it wasn’t healthy for someone to be shot at by their half brother.

Technicalities. What can you do?

Being that your music was on rather loudly, it was no wonder that when pattering against your window started you didn’t hear it at first, and then dismissed it as heavy rain.

That was, until you heard the voice.

“YOU’RE INSECURE! DON’T KNOW WHAT FOR!”

Years of hanging out with Shelton had ensured that the lyrics were immediately recognizable, even if the voice was off-key.

“YOU’RE TURNING HEADS WHEN YOU WALK THROUGH THE DO-O-OR!”

You paused your playlist, feeling the tears you had suppressed for long start to surface as his words reached you.

“DON’T NEED MAKE UP TO COVER UP! BEING THE WAY THAT YOU ARE IS ENO-O-OUGH!”

“Shut up!” you heard from what you recognized a moment later as Chance’s voice.

From the subsequent crash inside the house, cry, and shout of, “What the hell? Did you just throw a rock at me?”, the only logical conclusion you could come to was that the very person serenading you had responded to being asked to stop with violence.

Which, of course, only meant that it could be Hi – not that there was any doubt as to who would stand on the lawn outside, throwing rocks at your window, and attempt to woo you over with a One Direction song.

You opened your bedroom door, wiping away the tears that had fallen, and closed it behind you, rushing down the stairs as the out of tune song continued to meet your ears.

“BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE, THE WAY THAT-”

“You’re lucky we have no neighbors!” you called out, socked feet becoming stained by the grass that you trod over.

He pointed at you. “I go through all that and you have the audacity to lie to me? For shame, Y/N, for shame.”

Hi couldn’t continue shaking his head at you for long, though, gathering you in his arms as soon as you were near enough.

“I’m a me-” Your words were cut off by his lips, insistently pressing to yours before he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re a hot mess. And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Get a room!”

You stole the one rock that remained in Hi’s hand, expertly aiming it before firing it through the window, senses heightened even as you weren’t flaring, managing to hit Chance squarely on the chest.

The window closed a moment later.

In your boyfriend’s strong arms, as you pressed your head into his chest, you felt the tears that you had barely just managed to wipe away start to fall again, letting yourself cry as the reality of what you had done caught up with you.

“It was horrible,” you gasped out, feeling yourself start to lose control.

SNAP

“I didn’t hear the whole story. Do you want to tell me?”

“You don’t want to know.” You shook your head, wincing as snot got on his shirt. “I did things. Horrible things. I can’t even begin to-”

“Look at me.” Burying your face further into the floral printed fabric, you winced as the hands on your shoulders tried to pull you back. “Please, just-”

He pulled you out and you didn’t get the chance to close your eyes before he glimpsed them.

What must he think of me?

He knows I’m a part of the Trinity, he knows what I’ve done, he knows that I’ve-

When you opened your eyes because you couldn’t bear the silence, he was smiling.

“You look hot with red eyes,” he whispered.

You were torn between disbelief and smacking him. “That’s not true.”

“It’s got something to do with Chance, doesn’t it? This.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t treat it like it’s a gift. You treat it like a disease, which means someone else obviously gave it to you. Considering what Chance has been doing, it had to have been him.”

Smiling, you asked, “Since when are you so intuitive?”

“I’m super intuitive!” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I mean, remember that time when you were super grumpy and I not only diagnosed the cause but also knew exactly how to make you feel better? I’m an awesome boyfriend like that.”

You giggled. “That you are.”

Chance opened the window again. “You’re going to freeze to death out there.”

“Don’t worry, she’s immune,” replied Hi, ruffling your hair. “She’s just so hot.”

If you had ever seen an adult man’s head hit a window sill with any more exasperation, it didn’t come to mind at the moment.

“If you must do this, at least keep it off my lawn.”

He closed the window, and you turned back to Hi, before starting to laugh.

“He’s so over protective,” you drawled sarcastically, “but only when it comes to you.”

“What can I say? I’m just a local menace, really. It’s not my fault. The ladies can’t keep their hands off of me.”

“Yes, it’s hard for them to resist the urge to slap you.”

“What is love? Baby don’t hurt me-”

“No, no, make it stop!”

No, your boyfriend really couldn’t sing, no matter how many times he argued the contrary.

But he could always make you feel better, and that was enough, and when the two of you collapsed in giggles it never felt more natural.

“So, um, see, the problem about living on Morris Island is that I may or may not have had to have Ben drive me here,” interjected Hi, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

You pouted. “Fiiiine. Go see your boyfriend.”

“Buuuuut,” he paused a moment for effect, “my parents aren’t home tonight.”

You gaped a moment.

Then, “Are you propositioning me?”

“What? No, no, no! Unless you wanted to, but – wait, do you want to? No, that’s not what I was – not that I wouldn’t want to, but-” He stopped for a moment, face full red, to compose himself. “I was actually suggesting that we stay up all night watching really crappy chick flicks and eating ice cream. We could even grab Tory and force her into it, if you wanted.”

A laugh threatened to come on at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, Hi’s suggestions always original, but you attempted to keep a straight face.

That lasted all of five seconds before you broke out in a grin. “I’ll get my ice cream and meet you on the boat. Invite Ben for me.”

“Will do!”

“I have the movies,” announced Tory dramatically, opening the door to Hi’s room. “Come to think of it, it’s generally not a good idea to open a closed bedroom door without knocking when you know that a couple are behind it, but I have to ask… what are you doing?”

You looked up from where you were pretty much straddling Hi and trying to shove a spoon into his mouth. “I’m not sure whether the best excuse is the truth or not.”

“Tell her the truth,” piped up Hi, “and let her see what a cruel, cruel person you are.”

“I was trying to get him to try ice cream with a potato chip in it.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, I… I can see that. Th-that’s really interesting. Tell me, is this normal for you?”

The two of you shrugged in unison as you awkwardly rolled off of your boyfriend. “It doesn’t usually go to such extremes.”

He nodded in agreement, adding, “Please say you brought 10 Things I Hate About You.”

“I raided Whitney’s collection. Of course I brought it.”

“This isn’t what my mother would expect if I told her I had two beautiful girls in my bedroom.”

Hi was hit by two pillows in almost perfect unison.

A/N: I couldn’t resiiiiiist that last part, honestly. ^-^ I hope you enjoyed! Leave a little something if you did. Part five is here! 

#Virals series #hi x reader #hiram stolowitski x reader #hi stolowitski x reader #hiram stolowitski #hi stolowitski #ben blue #tory brennan #reader insert #female reader insert #I forgot to tag this lol I'm Sorry!

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Masterlist - Virals Series

Note: If any of these links do not work for whatever reason, be it on mobile or web, hit me up and let me know!

LIGHT UP THE NIGHT – HI STOLOWITSKI x CLAYBOURNE!READER

The reader stars in this series as Hi's girlfriend and Chance Claybourne's half-sister. Chronologically, this goes Mistake, Heartbreak, Hoping She'll Wake; Injection; Induction; Wild Animal; Insurrection; Inspection; Infection; Trying Out and Tryouts; Fielding and Shielding; Breaking Bones and Breaking Rank; Eavesdropping and Shortstopping; Defection and Resurrection; Spring Into Action (all six parts).

Series Summary: Hi is all you've ever needed. Your boyfriend is, though often sarcastic, one of the cheesiest people you've ever met, but the world loves to drive wedges between you.

Chronological Links:  Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen

Mistake, Heartbreak, Hoping She'll Wake

What better leverage to use against the Virals' pack than the girlfriend of one of their own? When you're kidnapped by the Gamemaster, it's a matter of life and death, and you can only hope your friends will arrive in time. Set during Code.

Warnings: Language. Firearms. Blood. Violence. Kidnapping.

Wild Animal

Months after your being kidnapped, you still haven't fully gotten over it. When you decide to make a comment that doesn't exactly compliment one of your classmates, you have to fight the reaction to his cornering you.

Warnings: Language. Violence. PTSD.

Seeing Red – Injection (pt. 1) | Induction (pt. 2) | Insurrection (pt. 3) | Inspection (pt. 4) | Infection (pt. 5)

There's nothing your half-brother Chance is if not manipulative. And when he drags you into his plans, you have to live with what he's done to you. A five-part chronicle.

Warnings are individual and listed at the beginning of every part.

Playing Ball – Trying Out and Tryouts (pt. 1) | Fielding and Shielding (pt. 2) | Breaking Bones and Breaking Rank (pt. 3) | Eavesdropping and Shortstopping (pt. 4) | Defection and Resurrection (pt. 5)

There’s a lot of things your half-brother has made you do against your will. Compared to all of that, his making you play a sport seems mild in comparison… not that it doesn’t come with its own share of trouble. 

Warnings are individual and listed at the beginning of every part.

Spring Into Action – A Seasoning for Life (pt. 1) | Spring to My Step (pt. 2) | Springing a Leak (pt. 3) |  Spring Loaded (pt. 4) | No Spring Chicken (pt. 5) | Unseasonable Surprise (pt. 6)

Description to come - this series is in progress!

Warnings will be individual and listed at the beginning of every part.

HELTON FICS – HI STOLOWITSKI x SHELTON DEVERS

Though I wouldn't say I love it more than Bluenan, this beautiful gay ship is perhaps one of my favorites... and probably equal. They're stand-alones, but could be seen as part of a series. Chronologically is Dance With Me, then Sparks Fly.

Series Summary: Taboo aside, everything seems to stop for these two nerds when they’re together.

Chronological Links: Part One | Part Two

Dance With Me

Shelton Devers doesn't dance. Hiram Stolowitski won't take no for an answer.

Warnings: None.

Sparks Fly

Hi knows that Shelton is afraid of the sound of fireworks. After what they've been through, who wouldn't be? He comes up with a plan to work around that on the Fourth of July.

Warnings: Gunfire mentions (likening of fireworks to guns), the word “shit”.

#masterlist #virals series #virals fanfiction #helton #bluenan #hi stolowitski #shelton devers #tory brennan #ben blue #writing #chance claybourne #i'd tag all the side characters but that takes too long #here it is go read everything i write for this fandom you have no excuse now #lol i jest #read at your leisure #shut up addi